Young Master Damien's Pet Chapter 270 Hopeful- Part Chapter 1

Other books in the ‘Lord’s Duke and the Ghost’:

# Valerian Empire

# Heidi and the Lord

# Bambi and the Duke

# Young master Damien’s pet

# (Yet to be released book)

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Penelope had woken up earlier than her usual time in the morning today. Her body was still lying down on the bed where she looked at the mirror that was attached at the top of the bed’s ceiling. Looking at Damien who had his eyes closed and though it was so, she doubted that he was sleeping right now. Every time she had tried to sneak out, the pureblooded vampire had appeared right in front of her catching her off guard more than one time.

If it was before, she would have walked to the patio, to see the clouds to sprinkle the snowflakes from the sky. Winter was here yet the weather didn’t feel much different than the temperature which had dropped out. Unlike the other lands where people were fortunate to have some sunlight, the land of Bonelake was always cloudy and dark, making the atmosphere look as if it was the time of the evening where the sun was about to set. After having herself fall into the sea once and another time almost falling into it again if it weren’t for Damien, she would have gone to look at the scenery but she didn’t.

She didn’t know if her mother would have made another voodoo doll so that she could harm her again.

No matter how many times she thought about it, it was hard to wrap her mind with the thoughts that her mother wanted to kill her. Why would a mother kill her own daughter? She had so many opportunities to do that in the past yet her mother had looked after her with care. Thinking back about her time when she was once sick, her mind drifted to the memory of it.

‘Penelope had caught a cold, her eyes watery and her nose itchy as she got back home after the day in the theater. Heading back to the home, she saw fellow villagers who lived around her house scoot away from her. Giving her space while some whispered to another looking at her with disgust.

Walking to the house, she knocked to have her mother open the door for her who wore an apron. The smell of food was rich that came from the house that had her mouth water.

Her mother smiled at her, “Welcome back home, Penny.”

“I am bac-” saying this she sneezed at the end. Scrunching her nose to feel the irritation only increase.

“Oh my,” her mother exclaimed softly, stepping closer to her, she placed her hand on her forehead, “You have a fever.”

“Hmm, I think so too,” Penny let the bag drop down from her shoulder which she had been carrying.

“Sit down,” and she took a seat on the bed. Letting herself lay down on the hard mattress, “Let me get you something to eat quickly.”

Once the meal had been prepared, Penny had the food and felt her eyes turn heavy not knowing when she had fallen asleep to only wake up in the middle of the night to feel a wet patch of cloth being placed on her forehead.

“Go back to sleep. Your fever has increased. You need rest,” said her mother who pressed her hand on the cloth which she had placed on her head in an effort to pull out the heat from her head now.’

With all those years she spent there, she couldn’t remember a thing of what must have happened to have the villagers to hate her and her mother. At first, she had thought it was her father but now that she knew, it was them. Her mother and she were witches. Though the villagers couldn’t prove it, they knew something was odd about them. Like they didn’t belong there with them. They were outcasts.

Her mother had stayed awake the whole night just because she had caught a fever. Placing the wet cloth on her head throughout the night.

Thinking back about the past she sighed.

“You’re up early,” she heard Damien speak from his side of the bed. She saw his eyes snap open to look at her, “Unable to sleep?” he asked, his red eyes that looked smaller due to the little sleep he must have had.

“Yes,” she answered to have him turn to his side and face her.

“What’s the matter?” he asked her. His eyes searched in her eyes for answers before he said, “Is it your mother?” They were going to meet her relatives today and she was anxious about it. With the way, they had last spoken to each other, leaving everything on bad terms which had already turned bad when they had sold her to the slave establishment, she didn’t know how she would be facing them today.

She wanted to find the answers but at the same time, she didn’t want to meet them. Or see them.

Seeing her not respond to this, Damien scooted closer to her. Placing his hand on the side of her cheek he said, “Don’t worry about what is going to happen today. I will be there with you,” he said to have her nod her head.

That was right, Damien would sprinkle enough salt and have them cooked by his mere words.

“Did you know there is a way to contact a person,” she said looking at him, “It utilizes your ownself, blood and soul to come in contact.”

A small frown made its way on Damien’s forehead before it disappeared, “You don’t have to hurry. Take your time. If your mother hasn’t come to directly contact you, then it only means she is not ready to meet you yet. When the time is right, you will meet her. Every white witch steps into the field thinking they can handle and control the l.u.s.t for the black and forbidden magic but it has been very rare that anyone has ever lived without being killed. There are other ways to find out without you putting yourself in danger. Right now even if you want to meet your mother, there is a probability of her not wanting to find you. Don’t worry, we’ll find her before she finds you this time,” he ran his thumb on her cheek.

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