A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan

Chapter 9

Last evening, I returned to my room and rested.

The dizziness had returned.

And I didn’t think it was because of my injury.

Miran had delivered my dinner, but he hadn’t spoken with me at all.

He gave me the cold shoulder and it hurt.

The next morning, he’d entered my room after I finished showering. He helped me dress even though I didn’t need his help. He rushed in movements before he disappeared again. Not one word was spoken to me at all.

A cold war had begun.

Maybe he didn’t want to be around me.

I stayed in bed, resting with an empty heart, wishing he would talk to me. Later, when I would get lonely, I would play with Bailey, but there was only so much I could do.

By the time night fell, Miran had returned from work.

A knock interrupted my thoughts, and I glanced in the door’s direction. It creaked open.

“Hello,” a deep voice said.

It was him. Why was he here?

“The doctor had ordered your dressing to be changed every day. I brought it with me,” Miran answered as if reading my mind.

Oh. “Alright,” I agreed.

“You can sit on the bed.”

He was talking to me again.

I followed his advice even though my heart was hammering in my chest. I rose from the ground, no longer playing with Bailey. This new position was very intimate. I plopped my butt on the mattress, and his footsteps moved closer to me. He was probably hovering over me, and it made me nervous. His fingertips brushed against my forehead, rubbing against it. I closed my eyes under the touch, savoring his care a little. I wish he would stay like this forever. With his gentle touch, he pulled the old bandage off my forehead, but I still winced.

“Is it healing?” I asked.

“It’s only been a day.”

I bit my tongue then.

Then, he added, “The bruising looks lighter than before.”

He finished placing the bandage and lifted my arm to re-dress me there.

“I’m done,” he said, and his footsteps stepped back.

He was going to leave me again, and loneliness would hit me again.

Tell him about that man, my inner voice urged.

Who knows how many times that creep has done it before?

I swallowed thickly.

“Wait,” I called out.

He paused in steps, waiting for me to speak.

I licked my lips, they felt too dry now. All of the moisture in them was sucked out of them. Clearing my throat, I began, “When I fell, there was—"

“Lada, it was an accident,” he interrupted in that tone of his that I knew was chiding. “No one could have predicted it.”

He was interrupting me again without even letting me finish, and he was tapping his foot again.

“Did you ask me?” I whispered.

He stopped tapping. “Ask you what?”

I stood up and stared straight ahead, crossing my arms over my chest. “Did you ask me if it was an accident?” I questioned.

I could just feel in my gut that his eyebrows were furrowed like mine did in confusion.

“You assumed it was an accident,” I said in a low voice. “I wasn’t safe there… You thought I was in safe haven, but, well, you were wrong, and you should have known about that place and the people you’re giving refuge to.”

His footsteps moved toward me before he stopped.

“What do you mean?”

His dangerous voice jostled me, alert.

It wasn’t poetic anymore.

A knot formed in my stomach. Swallowing the lump that formed in my throat, I forced myself to keep breathing. I needed to focus. Remembering that man and that memory, I stared at the ground and stayed silent.

He breathed hard. “You brought it up. Now tell me.”

“Maybe I’m traumatized, that’s why I’m not telling you.”

He was silent for a few seconds as if considering my words.

“You are, yes,” he agreed, but his voice was conflicted. “But you’re also hiding the truth from me because you’re mad… and I don’t fully understand why.”

A tear slipped past my waterline and rolled down my cheek. Ugh. I didn’t want to cry. I hastily reached up and wiped it away to hide it from him.

“Why are you crying?” his voice was hoarse.

Too late.

Another tear left my eye before it flooded my face.

“Tell me,” he urged quietly.

The ache in his voice squeezed my soul tightly.

“Figure it out,” I choked out and sniffled.

“Make. Me. Understand,” he growled.

I shivered and trembled at his command. I reached up a hand and bit down on my knuckle nervously.

“I hate it when you look at the fucking ground. Eyes on me.”

My head jerked up at the order, and I stopped biting my knuckle, dropping my hand. I crossed my legs because my core throbbed along with the pain in my heart. After a hesitant moment, I uncrossed my arms and lifted my hand to the side of my neck, reaching for the spot that the man had grazed with his nails. I winced when I found it.

It was still there.

Another mark on my flesh.

A cool hand moved mine out of the way.

I didn’t know he was that close to me.

Miran inhaled sharply.

“Who touched you? Who the fuck did that?”

I liked his cursing. I hated it when Papa and Sasha cursed. It made me recoil in fear, but when Miran cursed… it made me giddy with want like he cared about me. I noticed the little things about him. He only cursed when he was being protective.

“I haven’t been just upset because I fell,” I mumbled, “It was because of why I fell too. I asked a man about Ayla that morning, and I told him I was blind. He tried to… He was chasing me, and I ran from him.”

“What was his name?” Miran demanded.

I shook my head. “He never told me.”

So, that means you won’t be able to see me if I touch you?

“He smelled like leather.”

I shut my eyes, remembering the memory. “He was freshly showered. Clean. Young.” I opened my eyes. “He wore a ring on his hand and a chain around his neck.” My eyes darted left and right as I lay a hand to my chest. “I pulled his chain to stop him, and he made a noise. It must have nicked him. He should have a mark on his neck too.”

Miran was quiet, but I could feel the tension rolling off his body. “I’ll check for the bruise,” he replied after a heartbeat.

I only nodded.

“If I need to line up the men in Sanctum. Would you be able to call him out?”

“Yes. Most likely based on his scent and voice.”

A flash of light flared through my mind.

“Knee,” I whispered. “He has a bad knee.”

I can’t chase you with a bad knee.

Exhaling slowly, I hugged my arms around myself. I tried not to rock myself like a child because Miran was still present. A few moments later, his footsteps moved toward me. Closer. We were sharing air now. He didn’t touch me at all. His warm breath landed on my forehead and I tilted my head up, waiting.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

His voice was so low like he hadn’t spoken at all.

I frowned and I tried to glance at the ground, but before I could jerk my head back down, his forehead touched mine.

“Eyes on me.”

Never had I heard a threat that sounded so seductive.

I didn’t know why he preferred my eyes up.

“Now answer me.”

Well, when he said it like that, I knew I would end up revealing all of my dirty little secrets to him. We were barely even touching, and my body was already on fire.

We were forehead to forehead, breath to breath.

It was nothing but everything all at once.

“That man touched me, and it would’ve never happened if you were there,” I admitted with defeat in a small voice. “I told you to take me with you… but you didn’t listen. I wished you had. If you had listened, none of it would have happened.”

He exhaled, and his warm breath landed on my lip.

“I trusted you blindly,” my voice cracked before I cleared it, “without any idea of what you look like. I believed you. You gave me your word that I was safe there… but I wasn’t. I got hurt, more than in one way.”

“I… I didn’t know.”

His voice was barely a whisper like a dog kicked to the curb, and I closed my eyes. The pressure of the pad of his thumb on the center of my chin made my eyes pop open. He gripped my chin between his fingers.

“I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

I nodded meekly, but I was glad the truth was out there. A burden lifted from my chest when I confessed.

I pulled back, breaking the moment. I rubbed my eyes, a yawn slipped past my lips.

His hand dropped from my chin.

“I’m tired. I want to sleep.”

Miran glanced at the petite girl in front of him.

Watery eyes still stared up at him.

Rosy cheeks turned pink after her tears.

He wanted to reach up and wipe a lingering tear. Rage churned inside him. He was going to find the man who’d hurt her and beat the shit out of him.

Forcing himself to exhale, his eyes fell on her again.

He eyed her as he blew out a breath, drying her stained cheek. She shivered, probably feeling the chilly air on her heated skin.

Not wanting to leave yet, he casually asked, “So… how are you with undressing at night?” He smirked as his eyes traveled down her long sleeve, cotton red dress. “Do you need help with that too?”

Instead of holding in what he had to say, he spoke with no hesitation—because let’s face it, he never bit his tongue.

Lada’s skin flushed red like a tomato, and she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“I… I…” He watched the lie come right out of her mouth. “I struggle sometimes.”

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Ahan,” he mumbled.

She was a terrible liar. When she lied to him the first time, her freckled skin had returned beet red. It wasn’t even an ‘I’m shy’ kind of red but an ‘I’m obviously lying’ red. The small color changes were bright on her skin, and it was the color she’d turn when she was hiding something from him.

It was official.

She was a demon, and he liked her better this way.

It gave her personality.

She wasn’t so innocent anymore.

“Should I help you then, Kiska?” he tempted deviously.

His little kitten had turned into a lioness overnight.

His voice sounded too husky to his ears.

He wanted to see how she would react.

“Yes,” she replied breathlessly.

His pulse quickened and adrenaline rushed through his body.

“Your dress,” he murmured.

Lada turned her back to him and parted her hair to the side, highlighting the strings on the back of her neck that needed to be untied.

For a few moments, his body stilled, and his mouth watered at what she was offering. He wanted to push her down on the bed and fuck her raw already. Her body stilled as he reached out his forefinger and thumb, pulling the thin golden string. It became loose under his touch. His hand drifted down her shoulder, her back arching forward as his fingers moved possessively.

He paused at the hem and pulled off the dress in one swift movement. His gaze didn’t drop from her neck, and he tossed the dress on the bed.

“Goodnight,” he whispered against her hair and turned to leave. When he was a few feet away, her soft voice spoke again.

“Miran.”

His cock jerked up.

His body was no longer relaxed.

He never knew a better sound than his name on her lips.

Pausing, he shoved his hands in his pant pockets, glancing back in her direction.

What was she up to now? His curiosity piqued.

Lada bit her lip and turned her body sideways.

“Sometimes, it’s a struggle to remove my… my...” the tremble in her voice was noticeable, but mischief filled her eyes.

She ran a hand down her pastel pink bra and panties.

Her lies were getting so bad, she didn’t even bother finishing them.

He felt stiff in his pants now.

She cannot be serious, is she?

His hungry gaze lingered on her little porcelain body. She was so pale that he could trace his fingers along her veins every time he had studied them. He wondered how she looked all bare. A strange sense of excitement bubbled in his stomach.

They might as well go to hell together.

“Oh,” he mumbled, innocently. “Alright.”

His upper lip curved up in a grin. He’d never smiled so much before in his life, and he didn’t have to hide his expressions. Some people believed his face was frozen in one stonily expression.

Stepping behind her, he parted the back of her hair from her neck. He ran a hand down her spine, and her back tensed. The tremble in her shoulders didn’t go unnoticed. Expertly, he unfastened the clasp, and his hand dropped from her skin. A whimper left her mouth, and her hands jerked to her tits.

“That’s off,” he drawled.

She glanced to her right before she dropped her arms, and he pulled the bra off her. Her breathing quickened, and her skin turned pink under his fingertips. Wherever he touched, a flush followed. His hands trailed her hips, skimming to her panties. Slowly, savoring the moment, he pulled them down her legs, bending down with the movement. She let out a tiny gasp before slipping out of them.

Then, he stood to his full, six-foot-two height. He was still close to her but a little distant so she couldn’t feel his erection in his pants pressed against her.

Now, she stood fully nude with her back turned against him. Heat radiated from her body, threatening to overwhelm him. With all his control, he didn’t glance down at her body and tilted his head, staring at the side of her face.

“Anything else?” he questioned, and his breath landed on her nape.

She moved in a reflex like it tickled her.

“I… I need help with… with…”

He smirked as he watched her struggle to come up with more lies.

It was hard not to.

This was easily becoming his favorite game.

“Everything is off,” he leaned in and whispered.

She shuddered before exhaling. Her body was trembling against him, and he tried not to like it too much.

“What else is left?”

When she didn’t reply, he added, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning when I come back to… dress you, Kiska.”

And with that, he left without a backward glance that took all of his restraint. If he stayed a second later, he didn’t think he could have controlled himself any longer.