I Married The Villain Alpha

A figure emerged, dressed in the same garments I had grown accustomed to. Her pale skin gleamed faintly in the dimness, burnt orange curls framing her face like a halo of fire, and piercing green eyes bore down on me with an intensity that sent shivers crawling up my spine.

She muttered something under her breath—words I couldn't understand, foreign and haunting. My muscles tightened, coiling like springs ready to snap. I tried to stay still, to suppress the rising panic, but my body betrayed me. A strangled cry tore from my throat, raw and unbidden, breaking the eerie silence.

My eyes flew open, this time in a frantic jolt into consciousness, and a scream ripped through me, sharp and uncontrollable.

The sound was enough to alert everyone nearby. Hannah's startled voice reached me first, trembling with concern as she shot up from her seat.

I clutched at myself, my hands trembling as they ran over my arms, my skin—real and solid beneath my touch. Mid-sob, I finally forced myself to look around.

The grand walls that had grown too familiar surrounded me, their ornate carvings and details far too vivid to be a figment of my imagination. The high ceilings loomed above, and the rich furnishings stood untouched, their familiarity grounding me in the present.

Hannah's voice rang out again, louder this time, but her words blurred into the background. My chest heaved as I dragged my heavy, trembling body off the bed, my bare feet touching the cool floor. My heart pounded relentlessly in my ears, deafening and unrelenting.

I barely noticed the others flooding into the room—Roselle, Selene, and several other servants. Roselle and Selene rushed forward, their hands outstretched to steady me, their voices pleading for me to calm down.

But I couldn't stop.

With unsteady, shaky legs, I moved toward the mirror.

The figure staring back at me made my breath hitch.

It wasn't me.

It was her, as it had always been.

The face of Iris—the one I had possessed—stared back at me, pale and wide-eyed, her lips trembling in sync with mine.

I had stayed in her body long enough to regard it as my own—and yet, she stood before me, in the nightmare.

"Your Grace! Your Grace!" Hannah's frantic voice shattered the vision. I blinked, disoriented, my breaths ragged. Turning, I found her wide-eyed, her face pale with worry. Roselle and Selene approached cautiously, each extending a hand toward me as though afraid I might shatter.

I stared at them, my gaze flickering between their faces and the quiet crowd lingering in the background. My body trembled as I fought to anchor myself in reality. Was this real? I asked silently, my sanity wavering like a thread pulled taut.

The pounding in my head suddenly became impossible to ignore. A sharp ache stabbed through me, and I clutched my temples, wincing.

"Your Grace, you shouldn't be standing. Let us get you to bed," Selene said softly, breaking the tense silence.

Wordlessly, I nodded and allowed them to guide me. Each step on the cold floor was a reminder that I was here—alive, grounded in something real. Once I was seated on the edge of my bed, the crowd dispersed, and Roselle hurried away to fetch tea and came back almost immediately.

Still, my mind refused to let go. The nightmare replayed in endless loops, like an uninvited guest haunting my thoughts. "What was that?" I thought bitterly, staring down at my hands.

And then, the memories came rushing in. My dark days. The bridge. The boy I'd saved. The icy water that had seeped into my skin as I waited for death to do it's thing—only to awaken in this strange, unfamiliar world.

A dull ache spread through my chest, tingling across my skin. My muscles tensed as the weight of it all bore down on me. I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. Not here. Not now, I reminded myself, holding onto what little composure I had left.

"Your Grace…" Hannah's voice was quiet, tentative. "Are you alright?"

I turned my gaze toward her, unsure how to respond. Her concern was etched deep in her features. "You wouldn't wake up. We were terribly worried."

"How long was I asleep?" My voice was weak, barely audible.

Hannah hesitated. Roselle and Selene exchanged uneasy glances as they both poured and served a cup of tea for me.

"Say something," I muttered, my brows furrowing in frustration.

"Two days, Your Grace," Hannah finally said, her eyes lowering as though ashamed of the truth.

"Two days?" I repeated, my voice rising with disbelief. My wide eyes darted to Roselle and Selene, silently pleading for confirmation. They both nodded solemnly.

"There's no way I was asleep for two whole days," I thought, my mind racing.

"The king came to check on you!" Roselle chimed in suddenly, as though to lighten the mood. "He was worried sick and even summoned the royal pack doctor."

"Vincent did?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My surprise was brief, melting into something closer to resignation. Of course, he'd care. His recent strange fixation on me—or Iris, at least—was nothing new.

And then, unbidden, another name surfaced in my mind, the last person I had thought of before succumbing to the nightmare.

"Atlas…" I whispered, the sound so soft it felt like a secret meant only for me. Memories of our conversation that night, of his presence lingering far longer than it should have, washed over me. Heat crept into my cheeks, and for the first time, I felt the color return to my face.

"Did he hear about my condition?" I wondered silently. Probably not. And even if he had, would he have been able to visit? Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside and closed my eyes, forcing my mind to quiet itself.

When I opened them again, I turned to Hannah and parted my lips to speak. "Well, I don't need the doc—"

"Iris!"

The voice cut through the air, sharp and filled with urgency. The heavy doors to my room flew open, and there he stood.