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Trapped V [ FINAL ]

The chamber was shrouded in an oppressive gloom, the first delicate tendrils of dawn struggling to penetrate the large bedroom. Rohan sat at the edge of Absinthya’s grand bed. His naked frame, lean and muscled, was bathed in the cold, spectral glow that seeped through the window, casting long, haunting shadows that danced upon his skin. Raven locks, disheveled and untamed, framed his face etched with lines of weariness and despair. He felt trapped, with no way out.

He hated her. He hated her with every fiber of his being. He hated the way she used him, the way she toyed with him, the way she made him feel things he didn’t want to feel. He hated the way she looked at him, like he was nothing but a plaything, a tool, a weapon. He hated the way she touched him, like he was hers, like he belonged to her. He hated the way she made him forget, for a brief moment, who he was, what he had done, what he had lost.

With a tired sigh, Rohan raked a hand through his tousled hair, frustration evident in the gesture. His gaze fell to the golden ring on his finger, adorned with a red gem – a cherished heirloom passed down by his father. In that moment, Rohan felt like he had failed, made a misguided decision that led him into this grim situation. He believed he could manipulate Absinthya and spy on Murtagh, but she had played him masterfully. By the time he realized it, it was too late – a pawn ensnared in her trap, robbed of a portion of his powers.

He clenched his fist, the cool metal of the ring digging into his flesh. The ring served as a tangible link to his father, a constant reminder of his duty as a High Lord to his court and people. In that moment, it felt heavier than ever, burdened with the weight of expectations and responsibilities. The thought that he might have failed them all, putting them in jeopardy with his misguided choices, gnawed at him. Yet, Rohan was determined. Determined to undo the consequences of his errors, to protect those he cared for, and to reclaim the honor he feared he had lost.

Across the bed, Absinthya slept peacefully, her magical shield warding off any potential threat even in slumber. Rohan’s gaze held nothing but pure hatred as he looked at her.

She was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. Her hair cascaded like molten silver, her flawless and fair skin tempting to the touch, and her lips held a seductive allure. The curves of her body were soft, enticing. Yet, Rohan knew better. He saw beyond the external beauty, into the darkness that lurked behind her eyes—the malice twisting her smile, the cruelty staining her heart. She was a monster, a cruel monster.

The soft glow of the room played on her naked form, a delicate dance between light and shadow. A silken sheet draped over her, covering her until the waist, leaving her breasts exposed. But for Rohan, the sight brought no pleasure, only a deep-seated aversion. Even the elegant lines of her figure couldn’t mask the repulsion he felt.

In the dim light, her beauty was a mask for the malevolence that lay within—a cruel masquerade he was forced to witness.

He loathed her. He loathed her more than he had ever loathed anyone in his life. He loathed her more than he loathed himself. And he loathed himself a lot.

The memory of Absinthya’s conversation with the witch surfaced in his mind—the elusive mention of a prophecy. He wondered what sinister plan she was plotting. In the quiet of the night, he had attempted to breach her thoughts, seeking answers to the mystery. Yet, as he ventured into the depths of her subconscious, he was met with an impenetrable fortress—shields as solid as the darkest rocks. Absinthya had fortified her mind, denying him access.

With a heavy sigh, Rohan rose, his movements stiff and weary, his bare feet padding softly across the cold stone floor. He approached the window, his gaze drawn to the still-dark sky.The chilly breeze grazed his exposed skin, and judging by the faint light on the horizon, dawn was imminent. The sky outside mirrored his internal conflict, caught between the shadows of night and the imminent arrival of day. Another day in this dark palace, another day in this prison. He couldn’t stand another minute in that room.

He needed to get out, to breathe, to think. He needed to find a way to escape, to rebel, to fight against the chains that bound him. In the depths of his being, a quiet admission lingered — he needed her. The one who, against all odds, had stirred something profound within him. The one who had unexpectedly kindled a fire of attraction. The one who had stirred his dormant heart. He needed to talk to Aerin.

Unlike him, she had retained the full extent of her powers. A glimmer of hope illuminated his darkened mind, suggesting that, together, they might stand a chance against their enemies.

Yet, he hesitated at the mere thought of her. A complex blend of emotions surged within him. Caught in the conflict of his desires and the denial of his feelings, he couldn’t admit that there might be more to his need for Aerin than a mere alliance.

Rohan moved mechanically, dressing himself in the muted light. He donned his pants, the fabric chafing against his  skin. He sat on a chair to put on his boots, the leather creaking in protest. Throwing on his tunic, he fastened his belt, the metal buckle clinking against his waist. He strode out of the room without a glance at the female peacefully sleeping, leaving behind the oppressive silence and the lingering scent of her perfume.




In the dimly lit corridors, Rohan moved with purpose. As he approached the crossroads leading to the palace dungeons, a hurried patter of footsteps reached his ears. A small figure darted out of the shadows, a distressed female lesser fairy who barely reached Rohan’s waist. She seemed to be looking for someone, and when she spotted him, relief flooded her face.

“High Lord!” she called out, her voice strained and desperate.

Rohan recognized her. Sylvenna, the fey who served as the queen’s healer. She was a rare sight in the palace, usually confined to her chambers or the dungeons. With her white hair and moss green skin, her striking appearance was marred by scars inflicted by Absinthya, leaving burn marks on her arms.

She wore a simple, faded dress and an old apron, a small, weathered pouch hanging from her waist, carrying essential herbs and tiny vials of potions. Each container swayed with the urgency of her movements.

“Sylvenna,” Rohan acknowledged with a somber nod, the burdens of his own troubles etched across his face. As she approached, he gracefully knelt, bringing himself to the same level as her eyes.

“High Lord,” Sylvenna repeated, her mismatched eyes—one blue, the other amber—meeting his with pleading intensity, her plump hands pressed against her chest, almost gasping for breath. “I’ve been searching for you.”

Rohan’s concern deepened. “What’s happened?”

“High Lord, please, I need your help. The dark-haired high fey in the cage, she’s in grave danger after Absinthya’s latest session. The injuries are beyond my abilities to heal.”

Rohan’s expression tightened. He understood that the ‘dark-haired high fey’ could only be Caelia. He hesitated, considering the limitations Absinthya had imposed on him.

“I can’t guarantee I can do anything. Absinthya took a part of my power. Depending on the severity of her condition, my abilities might not be enough,” he admitted, his voice heavy with frustration.

“But she’s dying,” Sylvenna pleaded, her gaze reflecting genuine concern. “You’re our only hope, High Lord. Please, try.”

Rohan’s expression softened as he nodded in agreement. “Very well,” he murmured, rising to his feet, and without uttering a word, he fell into step with Sylvenna. Together, they vanished into the shadows, heading towards the main hall.

3 Comments on “Trapped V [ FINAL ]”

  1. Here comes the good heart of Rohan – love that.
    And Abb is scary and this comes from someone who writes Lorian. Who is just as bad. But some in her demeanor is really scary.

    As always brilliantly written 😉

    1. Yeah , I just don’t know if he’ll be able to save Caelia. 😓
      But Abb’s not as powerful as she seems. And I don’t know why I keep dropping spoilers all the time. XD
      Thank you so much!!🤗

      1. Oh, Aerin, she would feel it, if she died.
        Hehe, I am so curious :> You know that. I love good darkness and possibilities of it 😉
        Ah, and I don’t mind spoilers :> I like them.

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