The Devil's Cursed Witch novel Chapter 13

In a shock, Draven opened his eyes underwater, but his eyes weren’t focused, as if he was seeing something that wasn’t there.

A pair of emerald green eyes.

Green could be considered a rare eye color, but that was not the case for someone like Draven who had spent countless years among humans and the supernatural, who had watched the rise and fall of kingdoms and empires in the continent for the past hundreds of years. There were various shades of green eyes–green like olives, hazel green, jade, bluish green and some, even with a hint of amber…

But none of them had shocking green eyes that resembled an emerald gemstone.

Even with his sharp memory, he could only recall one person who had that particular eye color.

‘The woman in my dream.’

Draven concluded the two females might be related, but he was not sure yet.

‘Valor is a kingdom boasting a history of about three or four hundred years, but I do not recall staying there for long, and I have never stepped on that land for several decades.

‘Could this strange female be a descendant of that woman? Or… are they the same person? But that person in my dreams is a mature woman, not a girl.

‘Then rather than a memory I have forgotten, am I seeing a vision of the future?

‘But if the dream I have is that of the future, then why do I feel a pain in my chest as if I already experienced being stabbed in the past? Why is there a wound?

‘I still lack clues.’

Draven came out of the pool of water, and as his strong figure stood tall, his exposed wet skin glistened under the soft light from the lamps, beads of water tracing the lines of his sculpted muscles before falling on the marbled floor. He raised a hand and ran his fingers through those dripping wet hair strands that were covering his forehead.

With a flick of his wrist, the black silk bathrobe placed on a wooden stand a distance away flew towards his hand. He draped it over himself, loosely tying the band on the waist, finally covering his glorious body. But just as he took a thick soft cloth to dry his hair, a sound caught his attention.

Hoot!

Hearing the call of his owl, a frown appeared on his cold face. He threw the cloth in his hand on the floor and walked out of the side chamber.

Midnight had entered his chamber, flying around before landing on the perch stand near the window.

Seeing his master, the snowy white owl made another series of hoots, jumping from one leg to another, before flapping his wings to stand on the window sill.

Draven eyed the owl with seriousness. “Are you sure?”