The Seventh Wife of Alpha

Chapter 5

Ismail's POV

The first time I laid eyes on my newly-wedded mate, Chloe, I could immediately sense that my werewolf, Matthew, had become more unstable. In fact, it had been silenced for a long time due to the curse.

This was an extremely rare phenomenon.

"I heard you can cure my illness," I said coldly, sizing up Chloe in the darkness.

"I'm talking to you." I leaned in, using my fingers to lift her chin and force her to meet my gaze.

As I looked into her eyes, an electric current passed through my body.

Identical...

This feeling was identical to when I first saw her picture.

For a moment, I saw something in Chloe's eyes that reminded me of that specific woman.

In truth, I already had the same feeling when I saw her picture. Otherwise, I wouldn't have agreed to my mother's arrangement to marry her.

Knowing full well that they two were not the same person, I still chose to marry this girl called Chloe.

Strangely enough, in the first second that I saw her, I felt an unexplainable impulse and desire burning in me.

My vision in the dark was excellent, and I could clearly see her expression. She was now cowering in the corner of the bed, resisting my approach.

"How interesting," I sneered mockingly. "You really know how to play innocent."

I wasn't deaf to the rumors about me that circulated outside, and I knew them all too well.

This woman's father, Jadir, led the weakest army here, called the Blue Army. Despite knowing that his daughter was likely to not survive the wedding night, he still sent her over.

It was just a matter of seeking power and fame. He was using his daughter to attach himself to our army.

No way that this woman was completely unaware of all this. Yet still, she continued to put up an act in front of me. How ridiculous.

Thinking of this, my contempt for her grew even stronger. "You're already in my bed, so put away your tricks."

I said, telling her to drop her act. Well, having said that, for some unknown reason, my desire for her grew stronger and harder to restrain.

Each of my breaths became heavier. I leaned forward, grabbed her shoulders, and began to undress her.

My movements were swift and void of any hesitation. I spoke in a low, harsh voice. "Let's see if you really have what it takes to cure me!"

She tried to escape, but I caught her.

After a heated session for god-knew-how-long, exhaustion overtook me and I fell asleep.

In my dream, I remembered feeling like I was on fire – every inch of my body was burning up. It was awful. However, this sensation wasn't new to me; actually, it happened quite often.

It was as if I was teetering on the edge of h*ll, ready to plunge down into the abyss at any moment. I fought to keep my wits about me, but I could feel them slipping away.

And then, just as I was about to lose it completely, something was shoved into my mouth, and I chomped down without thinking twice.

Soon after, a bloodcurdling scream pierced my eardrums before the sweet aroma of blood began to fill my nostrils and oral cavity. The next thing I knew, my consciousness had slipped away again.

But, this time it felt different; the relapse felt much more bearable.

I soon drifted off into a deep slumber.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in a hospital bed.

Apparently, my mother had sent someone to bring me here.

It was dark outside. I sat up, feeling woozy and longing to return to my sleep.

But for some reason, I couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard I tried. Therefore, I sat on the bed and took a sleeping pill from the drawer.

For years, I had relied on medication to fall asleep, and my dependence on them was increasing.

Perhaps I was nearing my death. With the help of the pill, eventually, I fell asleep. However, I started having nightmares non-stop.

I had a dream about that woman named Chloe, whom I met just a few hours ago. She was locked up in a cell, and the ring was stuck on her finger, impossible to remove.

Every scene that followed was related to her.

Although we barely knew each other, I felt like I had known her for a long time and found her strangely familiar.

The next thing I knew, she was looking at me with despair and sorrow, saying that if I missed her, I would never find someone who could truly wear that ring.

I opened my eyes and sprung up in bed.

My forehead was drenched in a cold sweat. It was an odd sensation, as I had never dreamed of a woman before.

All my previous late wives' lives were much more pitiful and tragic than Chloe's. But, I had never dreamed about them.

What was going on?

Well, Chloe indeed resembled that woman a lot. But, I doubted that was the reason I dreamed of Chloe.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead and got out of bed to get a glass of water from the dispenser. Then, I walked to the French window and gazed out at the pitch-black night sky.

I stood there for a while, feeling the pounding in my head not going away.

Clenching the glass in my hand, I made a decision. I turned around and left the hospital.

In the stygian depths of the dungeon, Chloe lay there in her sleepwear from the night before, her exquisite features serene in repose. Amidst the veil of night, my eyes skimmed over the two faint rows of teeth marks on her left hand. I couldn't help pausing for a moment before fixing my gaze upon her finger which was adorned with a glimmering black ring.

I couldn't resist bending down to take her delicate hand into mine, but before I could make another move, Chloe, who had been curled up in bed, suddenly pulled her hand from me.

My outstretched hand froze in mid-air, and it took a moment before I slowly drew it back and stood up straight.

She then began to stir and a few seconds later, she opened her eyes, still groggy from sleep.

"Awake?" I asked her calmly.

I didn't know why I had come all the way back from the hospital to see her. Well, what would I gain from checking on her?

Was it because of the dream I just had?

When she saw me, fear filled her eyes. "I don't want to go there!"

It seemed that my mother had already told her about it. I was silent for a few seconds before I blurted out, "I have good news for you. I've decided to keep you here."

After a brief pause, I added, "... until the ring is taken off."

Chloe didn't believe me. "Is that true?"

"You can choose not to believe me."

"No, I believe you." Chloe's voice rose several octaves, her eyes sparkling in the darkness. But in less than a second, they lost their sparkles. "But... I can't take the ring off."

Her voice sounded like a deflated balloon.

I was reminded of the dream I had not long ago.

"Well, then you should put in some effort," I said, leaning down and lifting her chin with one hand. I lowered my head and kissed her lips.

"Mmm..." Chloe seemed somewhat reluctant.

I tightened my grip on her jaw, and spoke in a cold voice, "Or, do you want to live with them in that place far, far away?"

"Or are you just like the others? Petrified of me, hating my guts?"

Chloe's struggling ceased.

"Your father sold you to me, which means you're mine now. You should feel honored that I even lay a finger on you. Got it?" My disdainful words cut through the darkness like a razor.

Chloe replied to me with silence.

Her body was stiff, and though she did not speak, her dissatisfaction was apparent.

My interest in her suddenly vanished, so I relinquished my grasp and rose to depart.

As I walked away, I realized that my headache had improved considerably.

What sort of magic did this woman named Chloe possess?