The Villain Alpha's Cursed Mate
Chapter 97: The First One I See

Chapter 97: The First One I See

Esme’s fingers brushed across his temples before cupping his face. "I need to examine your eyes more closely," she murmured, her voice calm and purposeful.

With gentle care, her thumbs lightly skimmed his brow, carefully guiding his head upward to meet the faint light filtering through the room, at the same time being mindful of his discomfort.

Though she’d never really treated anyone blind before, Finnian always got into some kind of mischief in the past that ended up with him suffering from an eye injury. She had to expand her knowledge by studying the intricacies of ocular care if she wanted to treat him.

"Tell me if it hurts when I do this," she instructed as she gently parted his eyelids. Donovan winced slightly at the sudden intrusion of light, and Esme immediately noticed how his pupils contracted too sluggishly in response to the brightness.

Her face was a frown of concern, and she leaned close.

"Can you describe what you see?" she asked, and Donovan’s voice was strained as he responded in a hesitant tone.

"Blurry shapes, flickers of light here and there, but mostly... it’s like a haze is settling in... and the lights, they burn too."

Esme sighed softly and adjusted his posture, keeping him away from the direct light. "It sounds like your retinas are becoming overstimulated by light. Your eyes are struggling to adapt, which may be why it feels painful when you’re exposed to brightness. The haze you’re seeing could be from the pressure building behind your eyes, or a disruption in how your optic nerves are processing visual information."

She explained quietly, examining the cloudy film veiling his irises.

Her attention was so absorbed by the examination that she failed to notice the brief, unguarded look of admiration that lit his eyes in that moment.

"Wait..." Esme’s eyes dilated when everything she had been uttering finally dawned in on her. "You... this might sound strange, but your blindness is no longer static. These visions, the pain, they’re signs that something is shifting inside. It could be a normal medical condition based on the symptoms, like an injury deep within the ocular tissues, or..."

She withdrew her hand from his face, but Donovan gently grabbed her wrist, preventing her from retreating fully.

"Or what, Esme?" he pressed.

"Magical interference," she dropped. "I have a hunch... it’s like your sight is trying to return, but something is hindering it from happening. I remembered that you once told me about why you had marks on your face, and the connection it has to your eyes. It’s not a confirmed theory, but what if your sight is struggling to return, but your curse is actively keeping it away. If that’s the case, it could mean your vision is slipping even further from you, which isn’t a good sign."

Esme wished she could share something more positive, but then lying to him about what she’s noticed could end up being more fatal than telling him the truth.

"I’ll make you some herbal drops," she said, hoping that would ease him a bit. "I still remember how to make them. Back in my pack, I did nothing more than indulge in things like this. I’ll use them to soothe the inflammation, and it’ll help relieve the pressure... for the meantime so you won’t feel any pain. Maybe Neville will know better how to assist you when he returns."

"I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect when Neville suggested you look into my eyes for me," Donovan admitted, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on the back of her palm. He continued, "But I understand everything now. My little moon is a gifted healer."

His thumb brushed against her knuckles as he continued, "I want to hear more about all your discoveries.. if you’re willing to share them with me."

His sudden interest took her by surprise, stirring a flutter of excitement deep in her stomach. She rarely shared much about her hobbies, and the only two people who ever showed genuine care was Vivienne and Finnian.

Oh, how she missed Vivienne.

After learning from Clandestine that her mother shared the same peculiar passion as her, it no longer surprised Esme that she was able to learn what she knew by herself, as she had gotten that fabulous trait from her mother.

Her thoughts suddenly drifted to Leonardo, and she hoped he was faring well.

"I need to make those herbal drops for you," Esme said, withdrawing her hand from his and getting off him. "Your case will only worsen if I delay. Before Neville returns, the drops can help you, so you won’t feel the discomfort anymore."

With that, Esme turned to leave the room, but before she could take a step, he caught her wrist and pulled her back towards him. In an instant, his arms wrapped around her lower thigh, his head resting against her, and Esme was baffled by his actions that she failed to react the way she wanted.

"You have a good heart, Esme," he said. "You want to help a man like me... I feel honored, but can you promise me one thing?"

Esme’s heart thumped in her chest when he said, "If I ever get the opportunity to see the world, it doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter how, I want you to be the first one I see... Can you promise me that?" His voice wavered, peeking through his earlier stoic demeanor. "I’ve never really considered gaining my sight before, but now, I can’t stop thinking about seeing you, Esmeray. Will you promise me this?"

Esme’s cheeks flushed at his offer, and she stared at him in utter silence, bewildered and overwhelmed by the weight of his words.

Later on, Althea led Esme to Neville’s underground chamber. The door was locked, prompting Esme to hesitate. It felt improper to enter without permission, and for a moment, Esme considered turning back.

But before she could voice out her concern, Althea already retrieved a small, well-worn key from a nearly invisible crack on the wall.

"Neville always leaves a spare key behind," Althea explained in a casual tone. "He likes to be prepared in case of an emergency. If he’s ever absent, you can use this key to access whatever you might need."

With practiced ease, Althea stepped forward and unlocked the door. As the hinges creaked open, both women crossed the threshold, entering the dimly lit chamber.

"What are you looking for? I’ll help you find the ingredients you need." Althea’s eagerness was infectious, and despite herself, Esme couldn’t resist a smile.

She stepped forward, scanning the shelves with careful intent.

"I want to make herbal drops for Donovan. But I’ll need to use Neville’s chamber for a while. He doesn’t sleep here, does he?"

Althea shook her head in response, receiving the small list of ingredients Esme handed to her. "Neville is always busy, and he has a home outside the Shadowspire, like the rest of us, but we all love keeping Donovan company in the Shadowspire! It’s like we’re our own big family here!"

Althea’s energy was endless, practically bubbling over as she continued, "We’ve all been friends for a really long time. You know... while the Damned was still under serious construction, we used to— Esme! No, don’t touch that!"

Althea’s heart raced as she watched Esme inadvertently grasp a vial filled with a seething, bubbling purple liquid that looked almost alive. The moment the alarm bell’s rang in Althea’s voice, Esme dropped the vial back on the shelf without hesitation.

"Are you alright? Your hands–"

Althea immediately rushed to examine Esme’s hands for any signs of burns or damage, her brows furrowed in concern. To her astonishment, there was not a single mark on Esme’s skin.

"How come?" Althea exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. "That vial contained a potion only Neville could touch. It’s as hot as a boiling lava and I know this because I’ve accidentally touched it myself, but your hands are completely unscathed! Did you heal super fast or something? How is it that there are no burns at all??"

Esme stared in bewilderment at her fingers, momentarily lost in thought. She casted a wary glance at the vial, which was practically sweating from the heat of the steam rising from its surface, then back to her hands. It should have felt scalding hot when she had carried it, yet she felt nothing—no pain, no heat, only an unsettling sense of normalcy that left her questioning what had just happened.