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Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Immortal Husband

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 770    |    Released on: Today at 21:34

e Goodw

of a glass and wood cabin at the edg

e cabin had a minimalist Nordic design, and its large e

tless, but the air was filled with an extreme

re was mostly cold toned metal and dark lea

the master bedroom door tightly shut. Out of respec

to have vanished from the face

lly made me extremely comfortable; I could

antique restoration workbench and began restor

d the key portions of the manuscript and sent photos of it

ftsmanship without reserve and handed over several s

put me in a great mood, but the s

my uncle Arthur had sent several thugs to loiter outside th

llance and call the police directly. I knew well that on

outside the window was pitch black, with occasional strang

a small photo frame on the dis

visibly aged, showing the blurred back of a girl

reserved, and the edges of the fram

that this seemingly cold captain must also harbor

hose heart already belonged to someone else would never d

ame from deep in the forest, like

cup and walked to the floor

o see several dark shadows flash t

om my [Sanctuary of the Mind], I vaguely detected an

ad silence, as if it had merely

allucination brought on by recent exh

eters from the cabin, Cyril was crushing, with one hand, the throat of

iless as an Asura in the moonlight, and fo

the glass cabin, and his scarlet eyes instantly shed thei

thirst instinct was in an extremely agitate

pse, then vanished into the darkness, cont

Sweene

e, I washed the blood off my hands

lhouette in the cabin. It was the scene I had dreamed of for

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Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Immortal Husband
Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Immortal Husband
“I entered a contractual marriage with Cyril Sweeney just to protect my antique restoration studio from local developers. I thought he was merely an eccentric, wealthy cargo pilot, but I soon realized I had married a monster. His skin was colder than ice, he could throw a grown man across a room effortlessly, and strangers in tailored suits dropped to their knees calling him "My Lord." But the most agonizing part was his violent rejection of me. Whenever I got close, or accidentally scraped my skin and bled, he would shove me away like I was a plague. His glacial eyes would turn pitch black, his throat convulsing as if fighting a demon. "Run before I kill you!" He roared at me with a feral, terrifying rasp, his hands clawing at his own throat. The final straw came when I found an antique pocket watch on his desk, holding a faded photograph of a young girl. I realized I wasn't a wife; I was just a convenient, nameless replacement for a ghost he still carried over his dead heart. I didn't understand why he looked at me with such desperate agony, nor why my blood drove him to the brink of madness. I didn't know the girl in the photograph was actually me from ten years ago. As I slammed my truck into reverse to escape his haunted glass villa, I had no idea the real nightmare was just beginning.”