The Blind Dragon Chapter 2

In my previous life, I'd heard Elena's true thoughts with my own ears.

The heartbreak was real, but when she smiled and brought me that sweet soup, the questions I wanted to ask died on my lips. I'd swallowed them down.

This life, I wouldn't make the same mistakes.

That evening, moonlight poured down. My face began to burn with a dull, throbbing pain.

I went to the mirror. The face looking back was devastatingly handsome, bearing a seventy to eighty percent resemblance to Sebastian—except for the black scales on my right cheek, like an enormous scar, making people recoil in fear.

I wasn't pure dragon clan. Under moonlight, I displayed the markings of the serpent-dragon hybrids.

Because of this, my heart was different from other dragons—it could heal the dead and mend shattered bones.

I remembered that in my past life, the first time Elena saw it, she'd screamed in terror, backing away as if I were some kind of monster.

Footsteps approached.

I caught her familiar scent. Elena had returned.

She called me over to drink soup, her tone gentler than ever before.

I declined her attempt to feed me, calmly taking the bowl from her hands. Just as I was about to drink, I paused.

Elena pressed her lips together. "What's wrong?"

I stared directly at her, asking casually, "My heart's blood—do you think it tastes good?"

She looked confused, but wanting to keep me happy, she still answered, "It tastes good. You've been so good to me. Of course I'm grateful."

"Oh..." I drew out the word. "But I don't like your soup."

I poured it out right in front of her.

A flash of anger crossed Elena's eyes, but her plans weren't complete yet. She had to swallow her rage and wait for another opportunity.

But she didn't know—I wouldn't give her that chance.