A Court of Iron and Shadows

Talking Till Dawn

Aelin's POV

Everything was dark. Darkness encased me, iron pressed against my bare flesh, blood dripping down the stone. Boots scuff against the same stone floor, walking closer and closer to me. Whimpers come from the corner as a white wolf silently screams, pleading for help. 

Tears drip down my face as the boot steps come closer and closer. Until they stop, right outside the door that held me captive. The door opens with a loud slam, and Cairn is standing in the middle of it, golden light bathed around his ankles, pooling at the floor, although his body is covered in shadows. 

I blink, and suddenly the light is no longer golden, but a dull, watery yellow. My eyes adjust to the light after spending so long trapped in the darkness, and Cairn steps forward, ready to begin his evil games. 

He purrs his soft rhythm, the one I had grown accustomed to each and every session. It's an ugly sound, the laugh he produces. An evil, ugly, rotten sound. He grabs his materials and begins tormenting my body. 

At first I'm numb, I can't feel anything. But--NO. It was all a dream. A whimper escapes my ravaged throat, and I begin to feel again. I feel as the whip makes it's way down my back, I feel as the knives travel across the expanse of my skin; I feel everything. 

I scream and scream until he's finally done--or so I think. He sets down his materials with a clack, and I flinch when he runs his hands up my legs. "Well, now that we're done with that!" He says happily, like a child on Christmas day, ready to open and unravel gifts. 

"Lets say we have a little extra...fun." He says the words maliciously, preparing me for what's to come. My eyes widen at the realization, and he spins me around so I'm on my aching, sore back. He unchains and retains my wrists and ankles, leaving me defenses for the oncoming violation. 

I whimper and tears stream down my face, the only weaknesses I'll allow myself in front of this vile monster. It seems that I am no longer the only monster in my world, anymore. Yes, the valg were monsters and all of those other horrible, hideous creatures but...not this kind of monster. 

The kind of monster that's human or fae, that has no room in it's heart--or soul, for redemption. Me and Cairn, we are nothing the same. The one thing we do have in common is that we are both monsters, monsters who have no redemption. And that is my fate. 

For letting Ellwye burn. For the people I assassinated. For my kingdom. For my parents and my family. For Sam. For Nehemia. Sobs shudder through my body now, at the thoughts of my fallen. 

He violates my body, running his hands over every bare inch of skin, wounded or not, and his hands are covered in blood. He violates me again, and again, and aga--

-----

I wake up to rough, scarred hands shaking me awake. My body is arched against the bed, my hands fisted in the sheets. Sweat coats my body like a blanket, and I look up to meet brown, gold flecked eyes. 

A scream is caught in my throat, and I breath heavily, in and out, before bolting up, and lurching the the bathing room to empty the contents of my already bone thin stomach into the porcelain bowl. A sigh sounds behind me, and rough hands rub my back, and hold back my hair. 

My night clothes stick to me, and I turn around, leaning against the wall, and gripping the porcelain bowl tightly, my knuckles white. "Are you okay?" A deep voice rumbles behind me. I nod, the only thing my body can do at the moment. 

He sighs again, before scooping me up bridal style, my panting receding. "What are you doing?" I ask, gripping the front of his shirt. He moves towards the balcony, appearing completely calm, and his shadows envelope bits and pieces of my body, whispering their forbidden secrets in my ears.