It was my wedding night, and I was supposed to be in bed with my husband—an old man my foster mother had sold me to because, to her, I was nothing more than trash.I lay stiffly on the bed, waiting for the nightmare to begin.A rosy pink blindfold covered my eyes tightly. Earlier that evening, after the wedding ceremony, I had discovered the strange tradition of this house: the bride’s eyes must remain shut until her husband had “claimed” her. Fear curled deep inside my chest.“I only need tonight to escape this mess,” I whispered to myself.By morning, I would pack whatever little belongings I had left and disappear from this cursed mansion.Or so I thought.The room smelled nothing like I expected. Instead of medicine and old age, the air carried a rich masculine scent—fresh, warm, and intoxicating.The bed beneath me was soft and comforting, almost gentle enough to make me forget the terror sitting in my chest.For a moment, I remembered the dreams I once had growing up. I had imag
Last Updated : 2026-05-31 Read more