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CHAPTER 19

TW : ab*se, threaten*ng


CHAPTER 19 - SWAN

"This was the boy I loved. Messy and ruined. A beautiful disaster, just like me. "


POV OF AUTHOR

Feyre had always found solace in the act of self-harm, a form of ritual believed to be deserved. However, when the unspeakable act was committed by another, especially someone as abhorrent as her sister, the situation became a problem

When Pansy cast the Crucio spell, there was nothing Feyre could do but emit agonizing screams. An instantaneous and dreadful pain manifested in their body, gradually seizing control of their heart, lungs, and throat to the extent that even screaming became a source of agony. The pain radiated through every fiber of their being, making it increasingly difficult to draw breath.

She endured this intensity of pain before, but since it had been a long time, the pain only became much, much worse.

After subjecting Feyre to excruciating pain, Dalia and Pansy departed the washroom without a shred of sympathy, leaving the curse unabated.

Desperate to alleviate their suffering, Feyre fumbled through the inside of their robe in search of their wand, only to realize it had been left behind in her dorm. Without a wand, she was powerless to halt the curse.

Her legs and upper body succumbed to paralysis, and despite their futile attempts, movement remained an impossible task. The last recorded time was 7 pm. And no one was out past curfew.

Time seemed to lose its significance as her thoughts became singularly focused on ending the agony. A powerful surge left from her throat, resulting in violent coughing accompanied by the ominous presence of blood. The world around her trembled, oscillating between illumination and engulfing darkness. Her heart raced uncontrollably, prompting a frantic search for anything on the floor that might offer salvation.

Perhaps today was when her frail life would finally end, just as she wished for.

In the midst of enduring unbearable pain, awareness failed her, and she remained oblivious to an approaching presence in the bathroom. As she sighted, she noted he looked powerful.

Suddenly, a voice uttered a spell, "Censure," and a wand pointed in her direction, ending the Cruciatus curse. She squinted her eyes, trying to remember who it was, but she could only noticed the scar on her rescuer's face - A scar across his nose, before the visible lights dissolved into darkness, and a faint pain registered in her head as she collapsed to the floor, consciousness slipping away.


Feyre peeled open her eyes, squinting against the intrusion of an intense light that stabbed through her pupils. Blinking rapidly, she struggled to adapt to the unfamiliar surroundings. A soft "Ah" escaped her lips as a sharp pain asserted itself in her head, the ache ebbing and flowing like a mysterious current, a constant undercurrent of discomfort.

Through her blurred vision, Feyre took in her surroundings and realized that this place bore no resemblance to her familiar dorm. The disorienting haze clouded her ability to discern the exact nature of her confinement. Laid on a unknown bed, she lacked the strength to rise.

"Why does everything hurt?" Her internal inquiry echoed through her consciousness. Pain pulsed through her chest, her throat, her very insides—a relentless rhythm that seemed to permeate every fiber of her being.

Messy love | Matheo RiddleWhere stories live. Discover now