Branded – III

Aerin felt the cold bite of magical handcuff on her wrists, fear tightening its grip. Those enchanted shackles were familiar, a reminder of days spent in Ebben’s countryside estate. Maeglor watched her closely as she struggled against the bindings.

She was seated on the cold marble floor, her back against the wall. The magical shackles bound her wrists, restricting any hope of escape. Maeglor loomed before her, casting shadows across her fear-stricken face.

“You remember these, Aerin?” His voice, smooth yet laced with malice, cut through the tense air. Aerin’s mind flashed back to the library in Ebben’s estate, where Maeglor had spoken of ancient powers neutralizing even those of the High Lords.

“These are special handcuffs made specifically for capturing High Fae. They have ancient magic that can neutralize and suppress the powers of the High Lords.”

“I remember,” she replied, her voice shaking.

His cruel smile told her that he remembered too.

Maeglor’s smile darkened. “Can’t risk you disappearing into thin air and slipping away again,” he sneered, confirming her worst fears. The room felt stifling, and Aerin faced the evil that lingered in the shadows, knowing the nightmare she had tried to forget was now a harsh reality.

He brushed aside golden-brown locks from Aerin’s face. “I love you,” he said as his fingers traced the contours of her face. Aerin’s expression twisted with disgust, and she flinched away from his touch. A bitter smile played on Maeglor’s lips.

“I’ve missed you, Aerin. Missed the fire that dances in those defiant eyes,” Maeglor murmured. Aerin’s eyes narrowed.

“Your love is a chain, Maeglor—a sick, suffocating chain,” she spat, the disdain evident in her tone. “Whatever feelings I had for you have long turned to ashes. I feel nothing but repulsion.”

His laughter, tinged with madness, echoed in the dimly lit room. “You always had a way with words, my love. But words won’t change what we are.”

Aerin, sensing the anger brewing within him, stood her ground. “What are we? There’s nothing between us but your delusions.”

Maeglor’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous fervor. He grabbed her chin, his grip forceful. “Don’t think this is over, Aerin. I’ll make you see the truth, one way or another.”

With a final, venomous glare, he released her, striding towards the adjacent room. Aerin’s eyes followed him, her body tensing as a shiver of fear coursed through her. She knew that the storm had only just begun.

Maeglor came back from the small room, clutching something that made the air hum with dark magic. He knelt beside her again, revealing a metal rod, shaped like a twisted snake. A red-hot “M” burned at its tip, casting a bloody light over his face. The letter was glowing, as if it had been forged in the fires of hell.

Aerin felt a wave of fear wash over her, and she tried to scramble away from him, but his fingers dug into her arm.

Maeglor flashed a wicked smile and leaned closer to her ear. “This, my lovely, is a brand. It marks what is mine and mine alone. Do you see this ‘M’? It stands for Maeglor Amarallis, the name you will bear as my wife. ”

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, his expression cold and cruel. Aerin shivered and asked in a weak voice, “You lost your mind. Why? Why do you want to scar me with your name?”

Maeglor chuckled and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t you know, my sweet? You are the most precious thing I have ever found. You are the only one who can make me feel anything. You are mine, Aerin. And I will make sure everyone knows it.”

As Maeglor advanced, Aerin’s crystal pendant briefly flickered, catching his attention. Instinctively, she squeezed the pendant, attempting to hide it from him. But he only smirked and yanked her arm harder.

Aerin cried out in pain as he brought the glowing rod closer to her skin. She begged him, “Please, stop! You’re mad!”

But Maeglor only said, with a twisted smile, “Just so you know… This is going to hurt. A lot.”

Maeglor brought the searing “M”-marked rod closer to Aerin’s trembling form. The room seemed to hold its breath as the ominous glow cast eerie shadows.

With deliberate slowness, he pressed the glowing emblem against her skin. A sickening sizzle accompanied the contact, and the acrid scent of burning flesh filled the dimly lit room. Aerin’s anguished screams pierced the silence as the red-hot “M” left its mark on her. The pain was unbearable, searing through her like molten lava.

“See what you’ve force me to, Aerin?” Maeglor spat, his voice a venomous hiss. He kept her firmly in place, cruelly reveling in her agony. Tears streamed down Aerin’s face, her body wracked with sobs.

“You brought this upon yourself,” Maeglor hissed, his tone accusatory. “This pain, this suffering – it’s all your fault.” He continued to brandish the burning emblem, each moment etching the symbol of possession deeper into Aerin’s flesh.

As Aerin writhed in agony, her screams echoing through the chamber, she felt the searing pain intensify with each passing second. Tears streamed down her face as the glowing “M” marked her, branding her as a possession of Maeglor Amarallis.

In the midst of her suffering, Aerin’s mind flashed with memories of freedom, of laughter and sunlight. Yet, in that harrowing moment, those memories felt like distant dreams slipping away.

Maeglor continued to hold her in the grip of his sadistic ritual, an unholy communion of pain and vengeance.

 

***

Aerin lay sprawled on the cold floor, her face streaked with sweat and tears, her golden-brown locks clinging to her damp forehead. She felt every nerve in her body scream in agony, as if the fire that had branded her was still burning. She shivered uncontrollably, unable to summon any strength to move.

Her arm bore the cruel imprint of the burning ‘M,’ the wound oozing blood as evidence of the brutality she had endured. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air, intermingling with the acrid smell of charred flesh.

Maeglor sat before her, twirling the metal rod between his fingers with an air of casual indifference. He looked at her with a cold smirk, as if he had just taken a leisurely break from a task.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with malice. “Look at you, my love. You’re a mess. Did you really think you could escape me?”

He leaned closer, his breath hot on her face. She flinched, trying to turn away, but he grabbed her chin, his touch like ice, and forced her to look at him, her disheveled hair falling away from her face as she lay on the cold floor.

“I heard you’re a princess now,” he continued mockingly, “but you’ll always be my property. You’re mine. You always have been, and you always will be. You belong to me, Aerin. And this,” he gestured to the mark on her arm, “is just a reminder of that. A reminder of who you are. A reminder of what you are.”

He traced the outline of the “M” with his finger, making her gasp in pain. She felt a tear roll down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry, princess,” he whispered, his voice softening. “It’s not so bad. You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love it. You’ll learn to love me.”

He kissed her gently, his lips moving over hers. She felt a surge of revulsion, and tried to push him away, but he held her firmly.

“Shh, shhhh,” he hushed her, his tongue probing her mouth. “Don’t fight it.”

His hand slithered down her body, exploring forbidden territory. A spark of defiance ignited within Aerin’s battered soul. She wouldn’t be broken. She wouldn’t surrender. With a surge of adrenaline, she pushed against him, her weak protests turning into desperate struggles.

Maeglor was surprised by her sudden resistance. He hadn’t expected such fire from a creature he’d deemed broken. But Aerin, fueled by a newfound strength, fought against him with the ferocity of a cornered beast.

Their struggle was a brutal dance, a clash of wills on the cold stone floor. Aerin felt his hand on her thigh, and she knew she had to act. She couldn’t let him touch her. She couldn’t let him win.

Aerin gathered her strength and lashed out, delivering a swift and forceful kick to Maeglor’s groin. He doubled over, gasping for air, incapacitated by the sudden blow. The girl took her chance and scrambled to her feet. She stumbled towards the double doors, the echoes of her chains a grim reminder of her captivity. But Maeglor, swift as a viper, recovered quickly. He lunged forward, grabing her arm and pulling her back. Aerin cried out in pain as her wounded arm was wrenched.

She fought back with all her strength, scratching and clawing at him. Her nails raked across his skin, drawing lines of red, but he was too strong for her. With a swift, brutal blow, he punched her in the face, and Aerin felt a sharp pain explode in her head.

The girl staggered back, dazed, her body slamming against a column with a sickening thud before she crumpled to the ground, tasting blood in her mouth. The impact sent shockwaves of pain through her, leaving her lying on the ground, dazed and disoriented.

Maeglor loomed above her, his eyes ablaze with a dangerous mix of lust and rage. He unbuckled his belt with a slow, deliberate movement, his intentions unmistakably clear as he positioned himself over her, a menacing presence casting a shadow on the cold floor.

Aerin knew she had to do something. She couldn’t just lie there and let him take her.

But before Maeglor could advance any further, a loud bang on the door startled them both. He cursed under his breath, his face contorting in frustration.

Aerin seized the opportunity. With a burst of determination that bypassed the pain, she shoved him away, scrambling to her feet. The double doors creaked open, but there was no one.

Maeglor, caught off guard, could only watch as Aerin, fueled by desperation, slipped through the opening and disappeared into the corridor.

The doors closed on its own, trapping Maeglor inside.

Unbeknownst to Aerin, as she distanced herself, a figure emerged from the adjacent corridor. It was Elara. Having heard Maeglor’s furious pounding on the door and his enraged screams, she smiled, gazing at the now-closed entrance, and vanished into the shadows of the dimly lit hallway.

Aerin ran blindly through the labyrinthine maze of sinister stairs and corridors, her burning arm pulsating with pain, her legs and body trembling and fatigued. The labyrinth seemed to play tricks on her senses, shadows dancing in her peripheral vision. The incessant echoes of her hurried footsteps reverberated through the desolate corridors.

As she stumbled into a room, the oppressive darkness enveloped her. Gasping for breath, she pressed a trembling hand to her wounded arm, the agony etched on her face. The clinking of chains echoed in the silence. Sweat and tears mingled, streaming down her skin. Her eyes, wide with panic, frantically scanned the room for any sign of danger, the ominous silence making her heartbeat even more deafening. Each raspy breath a testament to her harrowing escape.

The room she entered was desolate, forgotten. The floor was covered with dusty red marble, the walls with cobwebs and mold. Paintings hung on the walls, some ripped and torn, others faded and stained. They depicted scenes of violence and lust, of power and corruption. It seemed like she had stepped into an old wing of the palace, a place untouched by anyone for many years.

Exhausted and in pain, Aerin leaned against the decaying walls. In the dim light, she felt an odd sensation and glanced at her hands, discovering them bathed in blood. Her clothes were soaked in red, and the walls themselves seemed tainted with the same gruesome hue. She gasped, horror and confusion filling her mind. What was happening? Her legs gave way, and she collapsed. Pain enveloped her, darkness closing in.

 

[ Lorian, if you find any errors or if you think something is strange, let me know. ^^ ]