Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 122

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Chapter 122: Her abductor_Part 1

Her body was jolting and hitting against something firm and moving, she could hear the faint creaking noise of old wheels and smelled the strong stench of hay and horse. She groaned, wanting to open her eyes but her lids were just too heavy to be lifted. Her head was pounding so hard, and the jolting made it all the more worse.

Belle felt her head hit against something hard when she jolted again, the hit this time was so hard she moaned and forced her lids open. For a moment, it was like her memories were empty, she couldn’t think nor remember anything. To her horror, even her name seemed to be lost to her.

Everything was dark and slightly blurry as she opened her heavy eyes. She laid there on something faintly damp and waited, breathing roughly, for some moment for her vision to adjust to her surroundings and for her memories to serve her right on why and how she got here.

Her limbs were weak and felt detached, her tongue numb and heavy in her mouth and it still held the strong taste of the acidic thing she faintly remembered breathing into her lungs before she fell unconscious.

From a far distance of her mind or her surroundings, she could hear sounds of birds and the howling wind. Where was she? She wondered, turning her head as her vision slowly began to adjust to the gloom and her foggy head began to clear to make her memories return in little flashes.

The last thing she recalled, she was getting dressed in her chamber, excited about something... what was it? She asked herself, and as if her brain had heard the question, it answered her with a flood of memories. She was walking to go and meet him in the art chamber when suddenly...!

She gasped. She had been abducted right inside the castle! With that realization came a strong, paralyzing fear of her predicament. She had been abducted! Terror gripped her so hard she shivered slightly.

The urge to know where she was and who had the audacity to enter the castle and abduct her made her attempt to sit, but that action was impossible with the swaying vehicle and the pounding in her head. She was in a moving wagon, she took note, with a sinking feeling that made her chest tighten into a dreadful knot.

She was lying on a pile of hay, and the sealed wagon door near her feet creaked and cracked every time the vehicle jolted forward. The space around her was moderate—not too tight, but not exactly comfortable either. It looked like the kind of wagon used to transport young horses from one land to another.

She recognized it well enough; every year in Aragonia, her father received a new horse, and she had seen similar wagons arrive at their estate.

But this time, a human was being carried in it. Her.

This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be here.

With so much difficulty that made her limbs shake like the quivering bones of a newborn learning to walk, she pushed herself into a sitting position, the jolting ride and the smell of hay making her feel nauseous and sick.

She was breathing hard from such small movement, she felt like laying down and sleeping off the drugs that must have been pressed to her nose. However, sleeping was the last option, knowing she was most likely in danger.

She supported herself with her hand, her blonde, sweat-drenched hair sticking uncomfortably to her face and neck.

The space was stuffy, but from the faint light slipping through the gaps in the wagon’s wooden walls, she could tell it was twilight and evening was approaching.