Betrayed Heiress: My Second Chance Mate is A Lycan King

Aira’s POV

Monday, April 31, 2001.

It poured heavily, yet my skin boiled as though I were next to lava. I haven’t slept well in over two weeks, and it feels as though I am losing my mind. There are times that I lay alone in my room and hear voices. Strange, unfamiliar voices.

They speak to me about an upcoming danger. But I am simply going crazy, right?

How wonderful.

My siblings have been gifted with abilities that make them powerful-abilities that make them capable of defending themselves against any form of attack. But I? What have I been granted? Ah, yes.

Madness.

Tuesday, May 22, 2001.

I have been feeling awfully lonely these past few weeks. The voices have been keeping me company. They aren’t that bad, at least not when I actually try to listen to them. They tell me that they are the spirits of my ancestors.

Crazy, isn’t it?

They tell me their stories of their time among the living. They, too, had powers, just like my siblings. Each with different magical and defensive abilities. I envied them all. I suppose the only powers I have are for communicating with the dead.

I suppose now I will never be lonely. I will always have someone to talk to.

Joy.

Wednesday, June 6, 2001.

Finally! I have been able to get some shut-eye. But my slumber hasn’t exactly been as peaceful as I hoped it would be. I kept having quite disturbing dreams. There are times I see my siblings strike each other down with their powers. There was yelling, bloodshed, and a strange burst of power.

The family I once loved parted ways. The light in their eyes vanished and was replaced with a strange darkness. And to make things worse, when I told the spirits about this, they would tell me that it would come to pass.

I asked them and pleaded with them to help me find a way to stop it. They said that it was already written and that there was nothing that could be done to change it. but there was no way I was going to have that.

I could not just sit back and watch my family be destroyed.

Friday, June 8, 2001.

I told Malaya about the dreams I had and my conversation with the spirits. At first, she threw her head back and laughed. She thought I was joking. But when she saw that I was serious, she looked at me anxiously and asked if I needed any mental assistance.

I tried to convince her that I was fine, but she wouldn’t believe me. She told Vincent. They all just thought I was mad. And I suppose I am.

How could I possibly believe that a family that has been bonded together for decades could simply be torn apart in mere seconds? It didn’t make any sense.

It is about time I ignored these damn spirits and dreams. They were messing with my head and filling my mind with poison.

Perhaps if I paid no attention to them, they would go away.

Friday, August 18, 2001.

I have found solace in painting. Indeed, an old habit my older sister indulged me in when we were just children became the source of my peace. The spirits quieten when I start to paint, but I do have those strange dreams, though.

I should consider seeing a therapist.

Friday, November 30, 2001.

I have been seeing Dr. Rashel, and I have to admit that agreeing to meet him for weekly sessions was the best decision of my life. He didn’t treat me like some psychopath. He listened to me. He listened to all my dreams and even joked about them.

He taught me to embrace everything I was experiencing instead of running from it. But he also gave me some medications that occasionally granted me some peaceful sleep.

Although I have to admit that for the past month, I haven’t been taking them. That is because my dreams aren’t as gruesome as before. I actually enjoyed the dreams I have been having. Instead of them being part of my family, It was of a strange woman.

A very beautiful, strange woman.

She had eyes that held me captive in my dreams. The first few days she showed up, I couldn’t exactly get the details of her face. But as the nights passed, I was able to make out her face more and more.

I became obsessed with her. My obsession became so bad that I would almost be driven to tears when I awoke from my slumber. At times, I would try forcing myself to sleep. But I knew it was pointless because her visits to my dreams weren’t consistent.

I began to paint her.

At first, I didn’t know what I was doing; I just picked up a brush and started to play with the canvas. But soon it formed into an image. The image of a woman with the most warming smile.

That was when I knew I was in love.

Tuesday, December 25, 2001.

It’s the holidays, yet I stay up in my room painting the woman who blessed my dreams. I believe I have over thirty portraits of her. portraits of the same woman that I have yet to meet.

My siblings are starting to believe that I am going mad. But I honestly could not care less. All I wanted to do was spend my days up here, drawing the face of this beautiful angel, until the day our paths crossed.

That is, if they ever do.

Tuesday, January 1, 2002.

Vincent just had to drag me out of the house. It is the New Year’s festival, and he believed that I needed to step outside and receive some fresh air. Deep down, I knew he was right, but at the same time, I loved staying up in my room and painting the face of that gorgeous woman.

It had become my favorite thing to do. I just hope I have fun here. I hope this won’t be a big waste of my time.

Wednesday, January 2, 2002.

I met her.

At least, I think I did. I don’t know why she appeared so strange in person. Last night I met the woman that I believe was haunting my dreams, but somehow I refused to believe it. Her face resembled the woman I have been drawing, and at first Vincent was terrified.

He refused to believe that we actually hadn’t met each other before. but even yet, I still didn’t believe that she was that same woman.

Despite my belief, I still had to get her number. I had to see her again.

I just wish I felt more excitement.

Sunday, January 6, 2002.

Now I have met her.

The second our eyes met, I knew she was the one. The woman that has been visiting my dreams for the past two months.

It turns out that the girl I met at the festival was actually a twin! What great news! I knew I didn’t make a mistake in getting her sister’s number.

Caroline.

That was the name of the woman that appeared in my dreams.

Thursday, February 14, 2002.

Ah, the day of love!

And indeed, I was in love.

Caroline was a woman who brought clarity to my mind and warmth to my soul. I know that it has only been a month since we have known each other, or at least that it may be to her.

To me, I have known her for three months. But she doesn’t know that. I have yet to show her my paintings.

I suppose one could say that I am scared. Well, I couldn’t be blamed. I didn’t want to creep her out. I will show her my paintings one day.

But today, I gave her roses and a box of chocolate to celebrate the day of love.

Although there were complications, I watched Marilyn stare at us with tears in her eyes. The truth is, after I met Caroline, I never paid her much attention again. Which, I suppose, was quite heartless of me.

I guess she thought I was into her when I took her number at the festival.

I have to make things right.

Saturday, February 16, 2002.

I have finally made things right. I spoke to Marilyn and explained everything to her. I even showed her my paintings. And to my greatest surprise, she understood everything. even encouraged me to ask Caroline out. I just hope she actually accepts me.

Friday, February 22, 2002.

She accepted me! I have never been more happy in my life! And Marilyn has met a man named Jake; I believe he is quite a good chap! I do hope this happiness lasts forever. But now, all is truly right with the world.

Friday, March 1, 2002.

The dreams are back.

The dreams of my family tearing apart are back. And this time the dreams came every night, each being more gruesome and horrendous than the last. There are times I would cry in my sleep, and Caroline would hug me.

She was quite the angel.

But not even her light could shine in the darkness my dreams brought.

Wednesday, March 13, 2002.

Caroline is pregnant.

I don’t know how any of this happened. I mean, we have known each other for a short while, and a baby just feels a bit too soon. But I am not abandoning her. We are going to have this baby, and my kid is going to be the most blessed in the world.

My kid will never lack. I need to work hard. Build an empire.

My child will be great. I will make sure of it.

Sunday, September 1, 2002.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Similar to Caroline, I met my little girl before I even met her. She is beautiful. I can’t wait to give her the world because I am already working hard to give it to her on a golden platter. I didn’t know how I did it, but within the past few months, I have been able to build a company. One with different branches.

My siblings didn’t like it, though. They all seemed rather angry. All except Camille. She supported me all the way. Although I did wish the rest of them did,.

But I can’t be bothered about the others. I am not doing any of this for them. I am doing it all for my little girl.

Friday, November 22, 2002.

Aira.

That is the name that left my lips as soon as I held my child. My little girl is here. She is just as I saw in my visions.

I need to work harder for her. I need to work to the point where she never has to shed a tear for anything I can’t provide.

Wednesday, December 25, 2002.

There is a great evil approaching. I could feel it deep within my bones.

I could feel it growing nearer and nearer every day.

I wanted to tell Caroline; I wanted to warn her, but I couldn’t. This is Caroline and I’s first holiday with Aira. I didn’t want it to be spent in fear. I wanted it to be filled with joy, laughter, and fun.

And that is exactly what we are going to do.

I will surround my family with the world’s best security. No harm shall come to my girls.

Not even after my death.

Saturday, November 22, 2003.

It has been damn too long since I wrote here. I thought I had lost this journal. I’m so glad I didn’t.

I needed an outlet.

Caroline no longer understood me. No one did.

The only solace I received was in my paintings and journaling.

It was Aira’s first birthday today. Despite the heaviness in my heart, I was still filled with much joy. She has grown so much in the past year. Oh, she is gorgeous.

Caroline was starting to fear that I adored Aira more than her. and honestly, I wasn’t quite sure.

Aira is the apple of my eyes, which is quite certain.

This evil lurking in the shadows has made me quite paranoid. There are days I refuse to let Aira out of my sight. Caroline feared for my mental health, but she wouldn’t understand. No one understands.

But deep down, I knew I couldn’t protect my little girl forever.

Thankfully, I was able to convince Caroline to record a little tape for our little girl.

I fear I won’t be here for much longer.

Monday, December 1, 2003.

I can’t trust anyone.

Not even my-

My eyebrows crease when I see that this is the end of the journal. The rest of the pages have been ripped out, and I wanted to scream out so badly.

I shut the journal and brought my knees up to my chest. My eyelids fall shut, and I feel a tear slither down my cheek.

Never in my life have I wanted to meet anyone as much as I wanted to meet my father.

Marco Kingston truly was a great man.