Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 233

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Chapter 233: Nightmare_The Death Date_Part 3

She touched her hands to her body and realized she was nothing like herself, and her pregnant belly was gone. Bringing her hands to her face, she finally let out a scream as she felt the same strange texture on her skin as on her hands. She had no hair on her head, and if her scream of terror was heard by the people around her, they gave no sign. None of them turned from their sorrowful weeping to look at her.

They couldn’t see her. She was an invisible bystander!

Fear, panic, and confusion consumed her all at once, making her shake her head and tremble all over. With the cries of the mourners growing louder around her, she turned slowly toward the direction of the grave that had just been freshly cemented. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

This had to be some kind of terrible dream—but it felt too real to be false. She could feel things, see things, just as if it were truly happening. Her feet moved on their own as she walked toward the grave, her eyes drawn to the tombstone that stood stark and new, the name carved onto it painfully clear.

Isabelle Dawson, born 1670, died in 1688.

She sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled back from the grave, disbelief flooding her wide eyes. How could this be possible? The dead person buried here had the same name, and surname, as her!

What was going on? Her thoughts spun in panic as she tried to understand what this meant. That couldn’t be her, she hadn’t been born in that year. So who were these people? And why was she here, back in time, in 1688?!

She looked around at the faces of the people grieving; there was not a face she recognized, but one woman in particular looked familiar and stood out from the rest. However, before she could move towards this woman, something touched her shoulder, and she jolted. Just like that, everything turned blank for a moment until she heard,

"Sweetheart?" The voice came with a gentle pat on her shoulder, and she slowly opened her eyes to the looming face of her husband. She blinked once, then twice, before sitting up quickly on the couch, looking around and realizing she was back in the chamber where the canvases were. Rohan was sitting half on the edge of the couch, looking down at her with concern darkening his eyes.

"Are you all right?" he asked, noticing the beads of sweat on her forehead and how frantically her heart was pounding. "Did you have a nightmare?" he questioned gently, moving his hand to her flushed cheeks and brushing away a few strands of stray hair, tucking them behind her ear as he watched her closely—patiently waiting for her to calm down enough to speak.

He wouldn’t have disturbed her sleep if he hadn’t sensed something was wrong. Her breathing had been off, and her heartbeat had been pounding so hard he could hear it even from outside the door.

At last, she calmed enough to meet his gaze. "I don’t know... it felt real, and yet when I woke up, it felt like a dream," she muttered, her voice small and her eyes filled with fear.

Rohan moved closer and gently helped her sit up properly on the couch. "What is the dream about? Tell me," he coaxed, wanting to calm her heart and the fear he saw in those large hazels.

She looked down at her hands, turning them from back to front and side by side, and then she sighed in great relief. "I wasn’t myself in the dream. My hands looked like burned twigs and dried... and I saw people mourning around a grave..." She shuddered, remembering the name that was carved on it, and then she looked up at Rohan when he gave her shoulders a gentle, encouraging squeeze to continue speaking.

"I... the name on the tombstone was the same as mine... Isabelle Dawson was written on it... What does such a nightmare mean?" she asked him, looking up at him for confirmation that what she had just experienced was not real. It couldn’t have been, as it wasn’t the land of the dead.

Rohan was stunned by her words, but seeing how uneasy she was and how she was looking at him like that, wanting reassurance, he remained calm and asked, "What else did you notice? What year was this Isabelle Dawson?"