Cursed To Be His Bride ✔️

Chapter Twenty One: Lisa

It wasn't possible, was it? For once more I wanted to believe I was living in a mirage and rest of the world was playing along.

I was out of ideas as to how could I overcome this dream I’d been seeing since long before that day.

I'd never want that horrible nightmare to become true, hadn't I enough things to mourn yet? I was in no need for another catastrophe or a reminder of an old one!

Please God! Please have mercy on me! I cried with my ripped tongue, no one heard me, no one could.

My mind screamed at the probable possibilities to ignore this one veracity that stood before me in wonder.

He didn’t look familiar with my presence all the while I was quite horrified by his.

I would take that he didn't recognize me but again why would he? He was no friend, no enemy.

I doubted if he had even seen me before but I knew that face all too well that haunted me for years long.

I could forget my own name someday but boy I wouldn’t misjudge his face!

He searched me unhurriedly trying to churn his memories to get a look of me in them but so far he was with no luck and somehow I felt glad about that.

There was nothing but pure horror in my memory of him but his might’ve contained the blood thirst as well.

I didn’t know just how tensed my body was until at my right, Edward's fingers were smoothly running up my palm to the inside of my hand where he crawled up along with my veins.

It did pacify my quick breathing but there was no restriction upon my heart, it was swaying in its own terrific rhythm in spite of the fact that it was now the core of every predator’s attention.

After a long moment’s caress, he calmed me down to some extent, my rapid heartbeat slowed but the gazes never averted away from my skin, my neck to be specific.

I bet they’re just fantasizing about having my pulse between their fangs.

That was one of the small and stupid snags of being in the centre of vampires, they'd know when you were scared or troubled.

It did nothing but assured them of the willful submission of their prey.

I felt like shrinking into a ball and I wanted to as long as no one could see me.

"Have me met before?" He asked, his voice was like a spiky thorn on my way to my memories.

I was at once relieved that he didn’t recognize my existence but the truth that he’d forgotten what he put me through was unbearable.

What was his name again? I was so overwhelmed by shock that marginally forgot everything Edward had spoken a while ago.

Their names, the greeting, and this man in front of me, he was the reason of my every sorrow to that very day.

I wanted to say 'Don't think so' that I'd never seen him before, that he was just a stranger who must’ve crossed paths with me but the truth was I could never forget the face of a murderer—regardless who it might be; it was like letting go of my grief.

"29th September." I blurted, blinking several times in hopes to say goodbye to the tears.

The images started heating up and spun around in my head at an inhuman pace, utterly ripping the control from me.

That night, that day, that beginning and end . . . there was no way to put all that in order for any simple clarification. I couldn’t explain all that to myself.