Aurelia closed her eyes, as if accepting death. But before she could open them again… a sound cut through the chaos:
CLING…
Metal sang against flesh as the creature's attack was stopped.
She slowly opened her eyes to see her savior — and of all people, it was her father. He moved with a strength she had never imagined, seizing her hand and dragging her through the battlefield, cutting down anything that dared obstruct them.
Her violet eyes were fixed on him. The man she had once thought weak and pathetic was now a force to be reckoned with. It was she who had been the fool — her father was a great man.
Memories flooded her mind: running through the garden with him, her mother, and her brother; laughter, trust, and love filling the air. Everything had seemed perfect — until the dark creatures came and tore it all apart, leaving only ruin where a home once stood.
Then we saw Marcus. My father and I ran toward him, urgency driving each step. My father's strength was waning; reaching Marcus seemed the only path to survival. Together, we surged forward, the battlefield roaring around us.
Marcus saw us coming. His eyes widened slightly, but he did not hesitate.
"Take her, Marcus!" my father shouted, pushing me toward his shoulder, his voice carrying both command and trust.
I could hardly believe it — the man who had once drowned himself in wine, who seemed incapable of reason or care, now displayed clarity, courage, and strategy. My father… he was a force to be reckoned with.
But before Aurelia could sink deeper into thought, Marcus moved — a knife flashing in his hand, plunging into her father's chest.
Time seemed to slow. She watched the blade slide in, inch by agonizing inch, until it sank fully. Blood spilled, dark and hot.
Screams rose in her throat, strangled and raw, struggling to break free.
Her violet eyes widened in disbelief. This could not be happening. The man who had just saved her.
Her only remaining family, her own father.
Aurelia's chest heaved, every heartbeat screaming defiance. She lunged at Marcus,her father's sword raised, violet eyes blazing with fury and terror.
"No!" Her scream cut through the chaos, raw and jagged, a challenge thrown straight into the storm.
She struck again and again, each blow wild and desperate, but Marcus moved like shadow and steel, faster than thought, stronger than her body could comprehend. Her sword met only air or bone, and the force of his counters sent her stumbling backward.
Her father crumpled to the ground, chest bleeding, his life leaking out with every ragged breath. A scream clawed at her throat, but Marcus' presence froze her in place — a wall of power, cold and unyielding.
He advanced, deliberate, predator-like, each step measured, each movement precise. The air around him seemed to thrum with menace. Aurelia swung once more, and this time the sword grazed his arm — enough to draw his attention, not enough to stop him.
A vicious smirk touched his lips. "Is that all?" he whispered, voice low, taunting.
Marcus' hand shot out, seizing the wrist she used to wield the sword. With a sickening snap, her bones yielded—pain shot through her arm, white-hot and consuming.
Fear twisted with rage in her chest, coiling like a serpent, igniting something darker, sharper, hungrier within her. She understood, with sudden clarity: Marcus was not merely stronger. He was dangerous… lethal… a force that could unmake her with ease.
And yet, that danger sent a thrill through her veins, made her mind race with forbidden possibilities.
But then her gaze fell on her father, carried away by the man she had hoped to trust.
Why? Why would he take him?
Confusion, anger, and desperation surged together, and for the first time, Aurelia realized she was so weak .
Marcus grabbed her legs, dragging her across the marble floor. The once-pristine white of her dress was now smeared with dirt and torn, the fabric clinging to her in rags.
Aurelia's heart pounded with shock and fury. She had prepared for this marriage, believed she had control over her fate, but nothing had warned her that this union would become her doomsday.
Each scrape of marble against skin, each harsh tug of her limbs, reminded her that she was powerless — and that the world she thought she knew was already slipping away into darkness.
Everything was gone — her home, her plans, her safety — except for this devil-hearted man dragging her across the marble, his grip unyielding, and his purpose still unsettled.
Marcus finally stopped.
He walked toward the dark creatures with a deliberate calmness, their shadows shifting as they waited. From one of them, he received a small bag, the bronze inside clinking softly — a price paid for her.
Without hesitation, he seized Aurelia by the shoulders, her broken wrist burning with pain, and threw her into their midst.
She hit the ground hard, knees scraping the marble, gasping as the world tilted around her. The creatures eyes were all fixed on her.
Aurelia's violet gaze still flared with disbelief. She could not even summon the strength to rise.
Get up… get up… get up…
she whispered, willing her body to obey, straining against the weakness that pinned her to the ground.
But sometimes the body does not follow the mind's command. Sometimes it only bends to its own will — and her will was faltering, even as her spirit screamed for action.
She had dreamed of great victories, of standing triumphant over the dark creatures.
She had imagined slaying their king — Mortifer — watching his shadow fall beneath her blade.
Yet here she was, broken in the dirt, unable to win even this small fight.
The shame burned hotter than her wounds.
"I'll make you all pay!" she screamed, her voice cracking with rage, pain, and humiliation.
Every vow she had ever made — every promise to herself and to her lost family — rose in her throat like fire.
Then—a blow on her head.
Thur…
A hollow echo, like the world slipping out from under her feet.
The shadows drew in.
Her vision collapsed inward.
And Aurelia fell into darkness.
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To be continued...