Chapter Forty-Three
The Caged
“No.” Nithe repeats as we both stare at his father. My legs go weak, and I probably would have fallen if Nithe wasn’t holding onto me. Davenport snaps and two guards walk up, a gagged Enzo between them with a dagger pressed to his throat. Gods. I jerk towards him, but Nithe holds me back.
“What are you doing?” I yell. My nails dig into Nithe’s arm as I stare at my brother. He’s glaring at the king, blood trickling from under the cloth wrapped around his mouth.
“Everyone is already getting ready. This is happening.” He turns and walks back into the ballroom. I can hear him clap his hands and the guests go quiet. He says something and cheering ensues. The guards walk down the hall, dragging Enzo with them, before disappearing.
“Enzo!” I yell, but Nithe still won’t let go.
“Stop!” He snaps and I relax, letting my head rest onto his chest as I blink away the tears, only then does his arm loosen .
“Nithe.” I mumble, stepping out of his grasp. He steps around me, blocking the door to the ballroom. “I can’t.” His hand reaches up to touch my face and I flinch before stepping back. Hurt crosses his eyes, but he drops his hand.
“I’ll fix this.” He responds, before following after his father. I stare after him before turning back the way Enzo went. I start down the hallway, following after him. Ladies appear in front of me, stepping out of the darkness, and smile at me.
“Yes?” I say hesitantly as I stop.
“We are here to ready you, Your Grace.” One of them says before they guide me back towards the stairs.
“No, you’re mistaken. This isn’t happening.” I respond as one of their hands clamp around my arm, forcing me up the steps. “Let go of me!”
“The order came from the king, Your Grace.” Another says as I reach the second floor.
Despite my protests, they usher me into my room and start stripping my wedding dress off of me.
A white nightdress that is completely sheer and brushes my knees is pulled over my head.
A thin dressing gown is tied around me. White slippers are slid on my feet and my new crown is removed.
Pins are pulled from my hair, and the icy strands fall around me like a curtain.
I tried to fight, to pull out of their grasp, but everywhere I turned there was another one of them.
I am once again pulled out of the room and guided down the stairs. I protest, asking them to stop, but their cold fingers stay planted on my elbows. I am led down a different hallway to a door that is open.
“Please, I don’t want this.” I whisper, but they don’t look at me. Their faces are flat, lifeless and a little creepy. They shove me into the door, and I stumble, barely catching my footing.
My breath catches and it almost feels as if my heart will stop as I take in the room before me.
A large bed with gauzy white curtains draped around it, partially blocking the view, sits in the middle.
Nothing else is in the room besides torches keeping it alight.
The wall on the direct opposite side of the bed is covered in shutters.
The shutters are open, revealing the crowd of people who all gathered to watch this horrific moment.
They sit in partial darkness, smiles plastered to their faces as they get excited for what they are about to witness.
Noise behind me causes me to spin around.
Nithe steps in, his eyes wide as he takes in the room.
I don’t mistake the hand wrapped around his arm connected to his father.
I step forward and he smirks at me before closing the door, Enzo and the guards close behind him.
I don’t miss the sound of the lock as it clicks into place.
My heart drops as I realize there isn’t a way out of this.
“Nithe.” I whisper, my hand resting on my stomach.
His hands clench into fists as he stares at me.
His eyes slowly pan down, taking in my nightclothes, before returning to my face.
Tears prick in my eyes, and I don’t fight as they trail down my cheek.
“Nithe.” I repeat. He steps closer, hunger deep in his eyes.
He’s going to make me do this, isn’t he? Scarlett was wrong. He’s the same as Tobias. The same as everyone. I shake my head and step back. He glances over at the shutters, the hushed whispers making it through the open slats.
“Don’t make me do this.” I whisper, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. He steps closer to me, his breath fanning over my face, caramel-scented whiskey coating his breath.
“My father is standing outside with Enzo. If we do not do this, he will slit his throat.” His voice is rushed as he says it through clenched teeth. My eyes widen and my knees give out. He grabs my elbow, holding me up.
“Why is he doing this?” I whisper back. “Is this really because he wants us to bear a child so soon? Is that all everyone thinks I’m worthy of?
Every person in my life has demanded an heir, demanded a child.
I am still a child, Nithe.” His eyes soften and line with silver as his fingers loosen on my elbow.
“I know, I know.” He whispers. “I don’t know what to do. He is standing out there right now with a sword to his neck. What do you want me to do?” Hurt fills his voice as he stares into my eyes. “He’s my best friend.”
“He’s my brother .” I counter.
“I don’t know what to do.” Resolve settles over me as reality sinks in.
“What’s one more night I didn’t ask for?” I mumble. He scoffs and releases my arm, stepping back.
“Don’t. Don’t compare me to the men who raped you, Elaenor. I am stuck in this just as much as you are.” My breath lodges in my throat as he spins around, walking to the door. He pulls on the handle, but it doesn’t open. He slams his hand against it.
“Don’t even attempt it, son.” The king’s muffled voice filters through the door.
Someone laughs from the viewing room, and I fight the urge to scream, to throw something.
He leans his head against the door, and I can see his shoulders shake as if he’s fighting against sobs that are building in his chest.
You can do this, Elaenor. You can do this. I repeat over and over.
I cross the distance between us and slip in the small space between his chest and the door.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper, looking up at him. Tears line his eyes, his pupils darker than normal. “I can do this.” My voice cracks and he searches my eyes. “We can do this.” I say, my hands lifting to rest on his chest. His breath shudders and he closes his eyes momentarily.
“I am so sorry, little witch.” He whispers.
His eyes open, and the irises have gone black.
His hands drop from the door, grabbing my face.
His lips slam into mine, forcing them to open.
My hands fist on his tunic as I fight the fear building in my chest. His hands slide down, wrapping around my waist as he pulls me against him.
Tears pour down my cheeks, mixing with his as he turns us around and guides us to the bed.
My hands are shaking as the mattress hits the back of my thighs.
His tongue caresses mine gently, his lips soft against my own.
He leans down, grabbing the back of my legs and hoisting me up.
My legs wrap around his waist as he climbs on the bed, the curtain falling closed behind us.
The mattress is soft against my back as he lays me down, nestling in between my legs. His lips release mine as he slides them across my jaw and down my neck. Tears pour from my eyes as I turn to look at the viewers.
“Don’t.” He whispers, his hand coming up to pull my chin towards him. “Don’t look at them.” His dark eyes hold mine and a choked sob works its way out of my throat. I nod and his lips find mine again.
I kiss him with everything I have. Begging, pleading for my body to react the way it needs to.
The way it needs to in order to make this painless.
His arm comes up to rest beside my head, my hands holding onto his cheeks.
His free hand slides down in between us.
He unties my dressing gown, parting it and revealing the thin fabric that hides absolutely nothing.
His hand slides down, gripping my hip before sliding down to my knee, hitching my leg up and against him. He slowly rests his lower body on mine, and I flinch. Hardness meets my soft flesh, the roughness of his trousers scraping my skin through the thin nightdress.
His lips pull away from mine, his eyes finding mine again before he glances down, his eyes trailing over my exposed body. From the tepid peaks of my nipples to the dip beneath my navel, he sees it all before he tilts his head back up.
“Whatever you have to do, whoever you have to think of to get through this. I understand.” He whispers.
“Who will you be thinking of?” His lips part as he tries to find an answer, but none comes.
His lips slam into mine just as his hand releases my knee and slides over my backside.
He lifts the nightdress up, sliding it up to my stomach.
His hand leaves my body, as he shifts above me.
My legs shake, my hands sliding down to fist his tunic as he settles back down on top of me.
His head comes down, nuzzling my neck as my hands slide to his shoulders.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers before sliding into me.
A gasp escapes my mouth at the fullness, at the stretching.
He stills part of the way in before repeating his apology.
He flexes his legs and pushes himself in to the hilt.
I gasp again, my back arching as he goes past the point anyone has before.
My eyes close and my mouth opens as he moves slightly.
The movement sends a spike of both pain and pleasure through me, and I fight against it.
I fight against the warmth I feel low in my core.
He slides out before thrusting back in. His hand slides back down to my knee, pulling my leg against him.
He lifts up, his hand brushing hair off of my face before he cups my cheek.
He moves again and I fight the small moan hitting the back of my throat. His eyes lighten and I know he can feel the wet heat pooling inside me.
I don’t want to like it. I can’t. But it was always the same with Tobias. No matter how much my mind fought, my body responded. My body accepted it. Took pleasure in it, and this is no different.
Except it is. He doesn’t want to do this either. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want me.
We were forced into this.
“Are you alright?” He whispers and I nod. A tear escapes his eye and I catch it with my thumb.
“Are you?” I respond and he nods hesitantly. I lean up, my lips pressing to his before I arch my back. He flinches and his breath catches, but it causes him to move again.
He kisses me with fervor, with pain. With desperation as he moves. He picks up his pace, his free hand tangles itself in my hair as he thrusts into me over and over again.
Shaking hits my limbs as my core starts to burn. I can’t fight the growing orgasm, no matter how much I try.
And maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I needed this. I needed a cleanse from what occurred before. Maybe I needed to be touched with affection.
His lips pull from mine again and he presses his forehead to mine.
“ Nora .” He gasps and my eyes shoot open. Nora . Release hits me like a bomb and he catches my cries with his lips, just as release hits him. His body shakes above mine and he empties himself inside of me. As he does as his father wishes.
Tears once again fill my eyes as he stills. They pour freely down my cheeks as his lips slip from mine. I hear a loud thump and look over to see the shutters have been shut. A click sounds on the door, and Nithe quickly grabs a blanket, throwing it over us, but the door doesn’t open.
He leans back over me, slowly sliding himself out before reaching between us to pull my dress down. He sits up, fixing his pants.
My hands come to my face, covering my eyes as I feel sobs building in my chest. My body shakes as I silently let them out. So many emotions coursing through my body, through my head.
“It’s just your body reacting. It doesn’t mean anything.” He whispers, trying to explain away my body’s response. At the betrayal I feel.
It’s too much. I can feel their icy brush before I open my eyes and see the stars glistening on my fingers. Nithe gets off of me, collapsing next to me on the bed, watching my hands.
“Let it out, little witch. Sometimes it feels better.” I take a deep breath and let it be free.
Lightning comprised of a million stars shoots out of my hands, hitting every torch and extinguishing them.
The room stays alight with bright white light.
It feels good, it feels like I have control over something, as if—
Black streaks start to appear, breaking up the white light, before it all goes dark. Silence fills the room as we lay in the darkness. But we don’t talk about it.
We don’t talk about what we just did or why the starlight darkened.
We don’t talk about anything.