A Millineum of Love: Chasing His Bride

A Millineum of Love: Chasing His Bride

The_Illusionist · Ongoing · 179.9k Words

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Introduction

Two thousand years of waiting. Two thousand years of yearning to hold her. He always fails in the end. She dies tragically over and over again every 20 years. Each lifetime, he searches for her. Each lifetime, he tries to save her. Each time in her lifetime, his soul dies, although his body remains immortal. Two thousand twenty years later, she's alive, protected and well, and he's chasing her.

Chapter 1

–Maximus Veyron–

2000 Years Later (Year 2000)

Two thousand years. In every damn lifetime, I was always late.

One hundred ninety-nine times, I had seen her die over and over again.

I had seen her burned alive five times in her lifetime. Murdered. Hanged. She was violated many times, stabbed repeatedly in the abdomen, and she committed suicide… and died by starvation. It was always a tragic death. My heart crumpled over and over again. My soul died with her, but I remained alive.

In every lifetime, I was late. Always late.

Seeing her now, I was too late. She was wearing a silver, dazzling dress—the usual clothes that the waitresses of the Moon Club wore. Her skirt was torn, and handprints marked her neck and arms. Bruises covered her face, blood gushed from her throat, but she stared at me with recognition.

“Mamax…im…” she muttered as she smiled bitterly. Like always.

Every lifetime, it killed me. I wanted to die along with her, but I just couldn’t. I was cursed to live eternally, watching her suffer over and over again.

I crouched down, scooped her up, holding her neck to stop the bleeding.

“My love, I’m sorry.” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry… I’m late again.”

“Papá!” Demetrius called.

“Get the car!” I shouted as I carried her out of the alley toward the backseat.

“Maxim…” Her eyes fluttered, still staring at me. Her beautiful rustic hair was supposed to glow, but it was losing its shine… I was losing her.

NO! Not in this evolving modern world. I won’t lose her.

“Drive faster, Demetrius…”

“Dem…” she murmured.

“It’s alright, my love. Hang on, okay?”

My hands were shaking as I stared at the blood between her legs and the bruises.

My eyes stung more as I covered them.

“Te amo, vita mea.”

“Te amo, my life,” I murmured. “Don’t leave me again, I’m begging you.”

She breathed out as her eyes lost their light, lids slowly closing.

I reached for her pulse, pressed it against my cheek.

“Uxor mea! Quaeso, revertere ad me!”

I screamed when I couldn’t feel her pulse, when I couldn’t hear her heartbeat anymore.

“Demi!” I shouted as I saw my son’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

He was as broken as I was.

I buried my face into her neck as I smelled her pure blood. Human blood. The scent might be rustic and fishy… but all I could smell and see in my mind were dandelions and daisies.

“We lost her again,” I murmured as I clung to her body, not realizing we were already in front of the hospital.

“Papá,” Demetrius called. “Let’s take her home.”

I nodded. He started driving again. I wrapped her neck with my bowtie, covered her body with my coat, held her closely, inhaling the lingering scent of dandelions and daisies. I kissed her face, trying to erase the bruises with magic.

But it couldn’t hide the fact that she had died again because I was late. It couldn’t hide the fact that she had been violated over and over again.

I will find him. I will always find them—the people who did this to her. I will torture them for days. Make them pay a thousandfold for what they did.

“Papá, we are home.”

I looked at the estate, realizing that hours had passed. Rain poured hard, thunder roared with me. I was grieving again and again for the loss of my wife.

The wooden, gigantic double doors opened as the staff lined up, heads bowed, while I walked into the foyer holding my dead wife’s body. I stopped in front of my daughter, in her ten-year-old form, clutching a doll while staring up at the lifeless body of my reincarnated wife.

“Ophelia, I’m sorry, my dear.” My voice trembled, but I managed to say it strongly without shedding tears in front of her.

“Again?” she wept. “You promised, Papá! You promised!” She cried as she dropped to her knees, clutching her chest.

This was my fault. I brought my family into this curse.

“Master?” My head butler called. He stood a few steps away, waiting for my command. “Get Sylas. Find who killed my wife. Demi, help your brother, take necessary actions. I need them alive.”

“Yes, Papá.” His footsteps receded.

I exhaled softly as I stared down at my wife’s 200th reincarnated body. Her soul had already left us, and the smell of dandelions and daisies was fading. I wanted to preserve it for just a few more days. But I couldn’t stop her body from rotting.

“Get up, Ophelia,” I said coldly. “Stop weeping. Prepare her dress.”

“Yes, Papá.” She still cried like a baby, though she was a thousand years old now.

“Isaac,” my other butler appeared.

“Yes, Master?”

“A coffin, flowers… dandelions and daisies… add some sunflowers.”

He bowed and vanished in a snap. I headed down to the basement morgue. It was freezing cold, but it never bothered me. I gently placed my wife on the stainless steel table, carefully removing the necktie from her neck.

The deep laceration… a Swiss knife. I lowered my face to my wife as I prepared to stitch it. I cleaned her whole body. My heart sank at the bruises on her stomach.

My throat tightened as my eyes stung again. I couldn’t bring her back alive. But I could make it all vanish with magic, to make it look like there were no bruises. Magic was tricky…

I kissed her navel as I continued wiping her. I also took samples of the semen between her legs, my hands shaking as I tried hard not to break into pieces.

I secured the samples and created a report. Once she was fully clean, I covered her body with a white cloth. The door opened as Ophelia entered in her adult form.

“How about this design, Papá?” she asked, lifting a gown adorned with gemstones and embroidered daisies and dandelions. Her lips wobbled, her eyes red from crying.

“Perfect, my dear.” I inhaled deeply, staring at the ceiling for a while. “I’m going to slaughter them,” I murmured. I made sure the bruises and stitches weren’t visible, so it would be less painful for Ophelia to see.

“This time, we should be one step ahead, Papá.”

I checked the semen sample, pulled out the records from the computer, and my phone vibrated. I took it out and glanced at the small screen of my BlackBerry.

Mortalis. A powerful family owned that club, and whoever touched her would have his bloodline wiped out before his eyes.

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