Betrayed Heiress: My Second Chance Mate is A Lycan King

Aira’s POV

“Did you find the journal helpful?”

I lift my gaze to find Vincent standing above me. I am seated in the middle of their garden, beneath an old oak tree. I thought that it would be better for me to be here as I learn more about the man who dedicated years to shaping my future.

It may sound strange, but how does one miss someone that they have never even met?

I shut the journal and wiped away a few stray tears. As I rise to my feet, I clear my throat and say, “Yes, it did. There are a few scribbles that talk about ways he learned to manage his powers and gather some form of control.”

Vincent nods. “That’s good. Although we are still yet to identify exactly what your powers are, apart from the incident at the art gallery, have you seen any strange visions?” He asks, and I shake my head no. He appears a bit annoyed due to the fact that his left eye twitched. He takes a deep breath and says, “Well, if you do, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Okay…” I say it slowly, still trying to understand what that sudden reaction was all about.

He checks the time on his watch and says, “I have a few meetings to attend. In the meantime, make yourself at home.”

I nod. “Thank you,” I say, and he nods once before walking away. Once he was completely out of sight, I was startled by the sudden ringing of my phone. As I check the name of my caller, a smile lifts the corners of my lips.

I pick it up and place it on my ear. “Yes, I am still very much alive.”

“Oh, I know. I didn’t call to confirm that,” Alex’s gruff voice says from the other end.

Biting my bottom lip, I can’t help the excitement I feel just speaking with him. I know it has only been an hour, but I really do miss him. “Then why are you calling me?”

“One to hear that sexy voice,” he says, and a blush instantly creeps up my cheeks. “And two, to know how you are doing. How is the whole family reunion going?”

My eyes fall on my father’s journal in my hands, and I release a rush of air. “Well, it certainly is one big and complicated family.”

“Well, I can’t wait to hear all about it. ready to get out of there?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

There is a little shuffling in the background, and I can practically picture him scurrying to his feet and making his way to the car. “You will see me in five minutes.”

“Okay, baby,” I say with a sheepish smile.

Just before I am about to hang up, he says, “Hey.”

My eyebrows furrow, and I reply, “Hey.”

“Guess what?” he asks, and I pull my phone away from my ear for a moment to be sure if it is still Alex I am speaking to. And indeed, it is.

“What?”

“I love you.”

And just like that, my entire face felt as though it had been set ablaze. Even though he couldn’t see me, I covered my face in embarrassment. “I love you too.” I reply, then hang up before he gets the chance to say anything that will have me blushing like some little high school girl.

As I take a few breaths to calm myself down, my attention returns to my father’s journal. I turned to the back page, where he scribbled some tips that helped in controlling his powers. Although his were mainly visions and dreams and speaking to spirits,.

And when the madness got a little too loud, I shut my eyes and silenced the world. It took a great deal of focus, but I did it. I had clarity and full control. My chest heaved in and out, but so did the voices.

Pursing my lips, I find myself a bit perplexed. But either way, I do as the journal said. I shut my eyes and silenced the world around me. That is when something strange happened.

My eyes were shut, yet I could see everything around me. The world was quiet, but I could hear every sound of nature. The clouds grew gray, and a howling wind blew the world around me. Lightning strikes the sky, and a growling thunder is heard.

Am I the one doing this?

I suppose there is only one way to find out.

I imagined the wind growing stronger and stronger. Light objects flew through the air, and I could see a woman walking up to me. She had the smile of a con artist, one so beautiful and true yet ugly and fake.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

My eyelids part when the cracking of wood fills my ears, and the next thing I know, the tree behind me is descending. Yet I was not harmed or touched in any way. The sky that was once bright and sunny is now gray and sad.

But in a matter of seconds, the clouds begin to wither away and return to their bright and sunny glow.

“Well, I must say that was quite impressive.”

My head snaps to the side to find the woman I saw walking towards me in my vision sitting on the fallen tree behind me. She has a round face and chubby cheeks; her eyes are the sharpest shade of icy blue I have ever seen; and that smile on her face…

That smile is a con.

She waves at me like a friend would and says, “Hi, I am your aunt Rebekah.”

An unsure smile lifts my lips. “Oh, hello.”

“That was some crazy power show you did right there. Marco couldn’t do any of that. So is your power controlling the weather or something?” Rebekah asks, and I notice that she speaks a bit too fast. It was a miracle that I was able to catch everything she said.

I look down at the journal and say, “I am not sure yet.”

“Give her a break, Rebekah.” My head snaps up to find another woman standing right in front of me. My eyes grow wider than saucers as a surprised screech leaves my lips. How the hell did she get here? I didn’t even hear or see her coming.

“I was just getting to know our long-lost niece, Malaya. Don’t be such a spoilsport,” Rebekah says, and I look up at the woman in front of me. So this is Malaya, the one my father first confided in about his visions.

It’s funny that I get this sense of familiarity with her, but I am certain I have never even met her before. She stretches her hand out to me, and I take it. The second I do a chill I have never felt before in my life, it shoots up my arm.

“It’s good to see you again, Aira,” Malaya says, and my eyebrows crease in confusion.

“We have met before.” I ask, and her lips stretch into a lopsided smile.

“Of course, I was there with your mom when you were born,” she says, then takes a step back to take a good look at me. “Your father really does not miss.”

My eyebrow hikes, and when she sees my confusion, she says, “Follow me.”

She starts to walk back to the house, and I follow her cautiously, holding my father’s journal closely to my chest. I can feel Rebekah’s eyes drilling holes into my back and sending uncomfortable chills down my spine. I try to ignore her, but it is pretty hard.

I think back to how both of them showed up, totally undetectable. I wonder what type of powers they have.

I follow Malaya up the stairs and into a dusty room. There are boxes and tarps everywhere. The room doesn’t look like anyone has ever lived in it. and then I see the reason why.

My feet come to a halt as my eyes fall on the portrait on the center wall of the room. The man sitting on a golden armchair, giving off the aura of a devil with his dashing hazel eyes and perfectly trimmed goatee, was one I could easily recognize.

Marco Kingston is my father.

“We all have rooms in this mansion. This was supposed to be your father’s room. Even though he never stepped foot in here, we dedicated the room to him. All of his stuff is in here, untouched.” Malaya explains as she walks up to a box laid in the center of the bed.

She opens it and takes out a canvas.

My heart plummets to my stomach when I see what is painted on it. or, should I say, who?

It was as though I was staring into a mirror.

My heart grows still in my chest as I stare at the portrait of myself. I was smiling brightly and even looked as though I was having a good laugh.

Rebekah comes to my side and says, “At first, we weren’t exactly sure who this was. Marco painted this on December 1, 2003. Just a few days before he died. This was the last painting your father did.”

Malaya, who is holding the painting, lifts her gaze to meet my eyes. “Your father already knew the kind of woman you would become.”

And with that said, tears started to stream down my face like a river. I feel a pair of arms wrap around me, and I recognize them as Rebekah’s. Malaya joins shortly after, and the both of them embrace me in a warm hug.

“It’s okay, little one. Don’t cry. You are home now.”