Fang Eight

*There is no winter without snow, no spring without sunshine, and no happiness without companions.*

The sound of inaudible conversations made me stir in discomfort, a moan escaped my lips as my eyelids slowly parted. There were two blurry figures in the room, one was sitting beside me, applying medication to my wound. While the other...

"She's waking up." The person beside me exclaimed, due to how nauseous I felt, it was hard for me to place a face to the voice.

The other blurry figure didn't move an inch to hearing of my consciousness, as though the news did not concern them.

"Can you hear me, Heather?" The same voice asked in a more distinct tone, this person must know me well enough to address me on a first-name basis.

"Yes," I responded trying to sit up but finding that too difficult decided to stay still, my entire body felt swollen.

"That's good to hear, a ton of food is coming up soon, so bear with me." The feminine voice explained, confusing me even more. Who was this person addressing me so nicely? And just where was I?

I wanted answers.

"Who...who are you?" I voiced out, using both hands to support my neck as I spoke.

The woman gasped in complete shock, a shared sentiment between us two. I knew that her voice sounded familiar but I couldn't quite draw an image of her quite yet.

All of a sudden, the second person in the room marched up to us, then lowered his head to meet my face. I blinked twice in consternation as to why this man was staring at me so animatedly, especially my eyes.

Oh no!

I immediately clenched my eyes shut and turned my neck to the side, biting my inner cheeks because of how much it hurt.

"I see you still remember what you look like Heather." He spoke in a clear voice, directly into my ear. My insides twisted in an uncomfortable knot, I was not used to having people come so close.

Thankfully, he could sense my discomfort and retracted his steps, keeping a civil distance from us both, standing beside the woman who sat next to me.

"Where am I?" I managed to ask, not meeting their intimidating stares.

"Far away from home." The woman responded, "you're in an entirely different country now." She explained in a somewhat agitated tone.

"When will I return home?" I inquired, slowly opening my eyes to take a peek and try not to be rude to them.

I wondered if they knew about my condition and how I couldn't have sunlight, would they mock me for it? How did I even get here and why would my parents who were ashamed of me bring me to such a place?

"Not anytime soon." I heard him say, he took calculated steps away from my bed till he reached the dresser in the room. He sat on the table and then slowly crossed one leg over the other, settling his gaze on me.

"You're a married woman Heather...try and guess the lucky groom." He asked with amusement in his voice, I gazed at his crimson red eyes and found myself wishing the Earth would open and swallow me up.

Was this man perhaps my groom?!

***********

Before I could respond to his question a maid came inside with a load of food and wine, all for me. I noticed that at the sight of the man sitting on my dresser, the woman frightfully bowed her head and averted her eyes.

Why was she afraid of meeting his gaze? The frightened woman collided with an old spinet in the chamber on her way out, nearly hurting herself!

"What is it?" He demanded with arms folded across his chest, since there was no one else in the room save for us two, I knew he was referring to me.

I stared at the bowl of porridge, the glass of wine, then let out a prolonged sigh and said...

"I can't eat when you're watching me so animatedly."

He flattened his brow, "now you're stating your likes and dislikes." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for me to catch what he said.

Especially his tone, and I didn't like it one bit.

"If it were to be you, would you like it if all eyes were constantly directed at you?" I retorted sharply, angry at his indifference.

He parted his lips to say something but refrained from doing so, instead he diverted his gaze from me and stared at the candles that lit the chandelier.

I sighed in relief and started eating, the food didn't have any taste on my tongue and I just had to force myself to eat it all. For some reason, I felt too weak to move but had the appetite of a hungry beggar.

"Don't choke on it." I heard him scold from where he sat, reminding me of his presence in the room.

"Ahem..." I dry coughed then straightened my back trying to grab his attention, "now that I'm finished eating, I'd like us to have a chat." I proposed, carefully setting the dishes beside me on the bed.

He didn't make any affirmative sound or gesture, but he also didn't reject my proposition, hence I took the initiative to start up the conversation.

"Are you my husband?" I implored not wanting to beat around the bush. He didn't say anything for almost twenty seconds, I had given up hope of him answering, till I heard him clear his throat.

"In name, yes."

"What does that mean?" I sharply retorted, anxious about his choice of words.

"It means that I haven't accepted you as my wife, we are nothing more but strangers to each other." He informed me unfolding his hands.

"I don't quite comprehend this, but placing that aside, what happened to me? Why can't I remember anything and what happened to my neck?"

He let out a sigh and then strolled towards me unannounced, I instinctively raised the covers over my body to my neck and shut my eyes as he reached out to me.

Or so I thought.

My presumed husband picked up the glass of red wine I had not touched and pushed it to his lips, emptying it in elegant gulps.

After he had his full he pinched his chin and stared at me, my neck in particular, with eyes full of animosity. "You were bitten by a dog." He told me before marching to the window, he peeked through the curtain first, before ceremoniously pulling them apart.

I reflexively used both hands to guard my face as I anxiously backed away, knocking over the tray of food to the ground.

But, instead of the unforgiving sunlight filtering into the chamber, a gush of cold wind filled the room, caressing my locks of blonde hair.

"I take it that you know about my condition, we must really be married." I mindlessly stated, voicing out my thoughts. He said nothing and stared out the window, allowing the wind to push back his locks of hair.

"You said I was bitten by a dog? When? How?" I questioned, making a move to sit up straight, resting my back against the bed.

"Mhmm." He answered, barely making a decent reply.

I knitted my brows, this man seemed to not want to dive into the topic of wounds, which only made me want to question it even more.

"You don't need to worry about getting bit again." He suddenly announced, grabbing my attention. I parted my lips to ask why, but he seemed to have read my mind and replied...

"That dog is no more."