The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate-Chapter 186: Wrong Timing

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Esme stirred awake on the comfy bed, the remnants of sleep clinging to her until the sensation of a hand brushing tenderly against her cheek roused her fully.

Her lashes fluttered, and as her vision cleared, her breath caught at the sight of Donovan before her. His gaze was locked with hers, soft yet intense, and it held her captive with its undeniable pull.

"Donovan?" Esme murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

But before she could make sense of his presence, a dull ache pulsed through her temple. She winced from the sensation, instinctively lifting a hand to her forehead. "You won’t believe it," she said. "I had the strangest dream—so bizarre. Did you know—"

Her sentence faltered as her eyes instinctively swept over him, landing on his face. Something was different, and it didn’t take her long to realize what it was. The dark runes that had always etched his skin in a haunting pattern were gone. The realization hit her like a jolt, and memories of their love making, the way his face looked under the golden glow, when he marked her, and how she thought the runes had vanished from his face flooded back. She had dismissed it then, blaming her overwhelmed senses. But now, there was no mistaking it.

"Don?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, laced with confusion and wonder. "You look... different."

Slowly, her hand reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his face. His skin was warm beneath her touch, smooth and unmarred, and her heart skipped a beat at the vulnerability in his expression. Donovan leaned into her palm, his head tilting just enough to savor her touch, like a creature starved for affection.

Her heart squeezed at the sight, and she felt the weight of his intense gaze pressing on her. They looked so piercing and raw, as though they were viewing every hidden corner of her soul. Esme’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. She hated how easily he unraveled her composure, how he could make her feel so utterly bare with a single look.

Except she was—under the sheets.

"What happened to the marks on your face?" she asked, meeting his gaze once more. Her voice remained shaky as her thumb traced the space where the runes had once been. "They’re gone."

Donovan captured her wrist gently before she could withdraw her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers as he pressed a kiss to her palm. His lips lingered, and his silence spoke volumes to Esme. In that moment, she forgot about the dull ache in her head, forgot her strange dream, forgot everything except the man before her.

"You’re more beautiful than I even dared to imagine," Donovan said after pulling away, his voice rich and velvety, with each word caressing her like a soft breeze. "Utterly radiant."

Esme froze, the words striking her like an arrow to her heart. Her breath hitched as her cheeks flushed with warmth, and her mind raced to grasp the full meaning behind his statement.

"What...what are you saying?" Esme whispered, her voice laced with confusion and a tremor of something else. Hearing such a compliment from Donovan had affected her quite a lot more than anyone else who had ever complimented her appearance before.

Donovan tilted his head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as though he was waiting for her to catch on. His eyes, now clear and more focused, held an intensity that made Esme’s chest tighten.

She hadn’t noticed it earlier since Donovan was fond of usually, instinctively staring at things without his sight, but this time around, those eyes were truly watching her, and it left her feeling raw, exposed and utterly captivated.

Esme’s heartbeat quickened, and her hands clenched the bed sheets as she sat upright, unable to suppress the rising wave of realization. The way his gaze traced over her face, as though committing every detail to his memory, sent shivers cascading down her spine.

"Are you saying..." Her voice cracked under the weight of what she was about to ask, and she swallowed hard, pointing at herself as if seeking confirmation for what her mind refused to believe. "Does that mean... are you... you can see me?"

The disbelief in her wide, blue eyes pulled a soft laugh from Donovan.

"I’m being serious!" Esme snapped, her tone a mixture of frustration and wonder, though the vulnerability in her expression betrayed her awe.

Donovan leaned closer when he took in the expression on her face, his movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the moment. His fingers brushed a stray strand of her hair from her face, the touch sending a spark of electricity through her.

"I wanted you to be the first person I see when I regained my sight," he murmured, his voice low and reverent. "And you granted me that wish, Esmeray."

Her breath caught in her throat as his words settled over her like a tender embrace. She searched his face for any trace of deceit, but all she found was his sincerity and a raw, unguarded emotion that left her completely defenseless.

"You..." she began, her words failing as she struggled to contain the wave of emotion threatening to spill from her inside out. "You’re not messing with me, are you?"

Her hands reached up to cup his face, tilting it gently so he had no choice but to meet her wide, anticipated gaze. "Are you?"

Donovan’s lips curved faintly, the flicker of his amusement softened by the weight of the moment. "Why would I do that?"

He took both her hands in his, dropping light kisses on each one. "What would you have me do to prove it to you?" freewebnøvel.com

Donovan wondered what his silly, yet lovely mate would bring up this time. He watched as she hastily reached for a book lying on the table, thrusting it toward him in her desperation to confirm the impossible.

"Tell me," she demanded. "What am I holding right now?"

Donovan’s eyes followed her movements with a steadiness that sent shivers down her spine. "A book," he replied without hesitation.

Her breath quickened as she opened to a blank page. "What’s the title?"

"You just flipped to a blank page. Is this the book you said—!!"

Donovan never finished his sentence.

He wasn’t given the chance when Esme unexpectedly surged forward, flinging herself into his arms with such force that it nearly knocked him back. Her embrace was fierce, with her arms wrapped around him like she could anchor herself to him. Donovan’s breath hitched as her body pressed tightly to his, and for a moment, all he could feel was her warmth and the faint tremor coursing through her.

She buried her face against his shoulder, her sobs light but uncontainable, hence, the sound shattered his composure.

Donovan froze for a bit before his arms came up, cradling her with a surprising gentleness. Pulling back slightly, he tipped her chin up, his thumb brushing away the tears trailing down her flushed cheeks. His voice was soft, almost pleading as he asked. "Hey, hey, what’s with the tears? Did I say something wrong?"

"I’m not sad," Esme managed to say, shaking her head to dispel his worries. She sniffled, her lips curving into a teary smile. "I’m just so... so happy. For you. But how did this happen? When? Is that why the marks on your face are gone?"

"It’s because of you," he said, making Esme blink cluelessly.

"What? Me?"

"When I marked you," he explained, his voice laden with something deeper, something that made her pulse stutter. "I don’t know how to put it, but your acceptance of me must have healed what the marks left behind. I don’t know how, but what I do know is that it couldn’t have been possible without you."

Esme’s eyes shimmered with a fresh wave of tears, her astonishment and joy mingling in a way that left her momentarily speechless.

"Donovan... I can’t believe this. You can finally see again."

"Not just ’again’ Esme," he shook his head. "For the first time, I see you."

Donovan had spent the past four hours drinking in every detail of her. From her sleep-tousled hair, the faint flush on her cheeks, and the soft rise and fall of her breathing when she slept.

The sight of her, so unguarded and utterly hers, filled his heart with a quiet joy he couldn’t put into words. Instead, he leaned forward, closing the distance between them as he captured her lips.

Esme eagerly responded, her lips moving against his as though she could taste the emotions he poured into the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads almost touching, Donovan’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.

His dark gaze dipped to her lips, his intention clear. He wanted more. Needed more. But before he could kiss her again, Esme suddenly froze, her expression shifting from soft contentment to wide-eyed horror.

"Wait... you can see me!" she exclaimed, pulling away abruptly and clutching the duvet she had wrapped around her chest. "You CANNOT see me like this! I’m pretty sure I look like a beggar! Wrapped in the blanket, untidy hair, no no no, I don’t even have any makeup on!"

Her voice faltered, a mortified gasp escaping her lips. She glanced at the disheveled state of her appearance in the reflection of a nearby mirror and groaned inwardly. Surely, the moon goddess must be mocking her for such a wrong timing, letting Donovan see her like this. While he was clad in a simple white tunic and pants, she looked like a witch.

She looked like she went to battle in her sleep.

Meanwhile, Donovan blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he watched his mate lament to herself. She suddenly got off the bed, dragging the duvet along to shield herself.

"Esme?"

"Close your eyes for thirty minutes! I need to get ready." she uttered as she clutched the fabric tighter around her, retreating into the bathing chamber.

Donovan remained stunned and entirely amused as he watched her scurry off like she was being chased by someone, leaving him sitting there on the bed, in the soft, morning light.