Flames of Fury

Magnolia

I’m thankful that it’s not Gorm who escorts us back from dinner. Instead, we are escorted by another guard of similar build to Gorm, but with honey brown hair cut shorter and styled like he cares about his appearance.

“My Queen, I am Griffin. I’ll be showing you to your quarters.” The guard tells me and Ember as we make our way for the exit.

I didn’t stay to eat after Ian left, how could I? I blame the nausea I feel entirely on him, I couldn’t stomach anything after hearing his vile proposal. Not that I’ve been able to stomach much this past week, now that I think about it.

“How presumptive of you, Griffin,” I practically snarl. “I am not your queen.”

He looks back at me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and bites back the words that look ready to fall off his tongue. I get the strange impression that he wasn’t trying to provoke me, but I shake the idea off as quickly as it comes.

“How’d you get stuck babysitting? Gorm have the night off or something?” I ask with mild disinterest. I’m sure between now and my escape Gorm and I will exchange blows.

Griffin arches a brow while one corner of his mouth lifts up in amusement. “Or something.”

“Here,” he gestures to a rustic, wooden door. It looks only mildly out of place set among the earth and stone walls around it.

Ember doesn’t stop with us, she continues on past the wooden door and softly bids us a goodnight.

“I expected the dungeons to be down deeper than this,” I mutter to Griffin as I pass him to push open the door.

Beyond the door, however, is the exact opposite of a dungeon — it’s a suite. There’s a king size canopy bed with delicate sheer white curtains draped across the ends and hanging down from each corner.

Through an archway there’s a smaller adjoining room that houses a bathroom with a white and gold clawfoot tub in the center of it. Candelabras on the walls give the rooms a soft glow, the flicker of the flame is a disturbingly soothing comfort. Dragons can’t help but be drawn to fire and heat.

But for as much as we love flames, we also love the sky. This room may as well be a prison, this whole hollow in fact. There are no windows, no natural light, no moon or stars. Just a hole, a pit, a hollowing of the earth that traps everyone who dwells here within it.

“If there’s anything you need that would make you more comfortable, just give a holler.” Griffin starts off seriously but his discipline cracks and a smile paints its way across his face. “Literally, just shout. This place is an echo chamber.”

Luckily he doesn’t notice how I flinch when he whips around to face the heart of the hollow and hollers out a “woohoo!” which reverberates and echoes endlessly within the cavern.

If he wasn’t Ian’s right hand man I think I’d find his playfulness endearing. In fact, he reminds me a little of Xander; playful, doesn’t take anything too seriously — especially himself.

I’ll have to add Xander to the list of people who will undoubtedly be upset with me when I get home. I tricked him, used him, to escape on my own. He’ll wear that as his own failure, it’ll weigh heavily on his shoulders and in his mind until it settles into his heart and cracks him open. Then the only thing left to fill that void will be pain and fury.

The feel of Griffin’s hand on my arm is so unexpected I can’t help but reflexively grab his wrist and twist his arm around and up behind his back.

“Well, shit. Look who likes it rough ahh —“ his breath hitches when I twist his arm a little further.

“Do not touch me. I’m not your queen, I’m not your friend, and I don’t want to get comfortable here. You really want to do something for me? Help me get the fuck out of here. Otherwise, stay the fuck away from me.”

He rubs his arm for a moment after I release my hold of him, and then locks his eyes on mine. He’s chewing on his bottom lip like he can’t decide whether or not to say what’s on his tongue. His tongue sweeps across his lower lip before his mouth curves into a patronizing smile.

“Goodnight, then, my queen,” he bows to me at the neck and backs away into the quiet cavern.

After the door shuts behind him, there’s a loud clicking in the lock. I run to the door to test the knob and sure enough I’ve been locked into this room. It may not be a cell but it’s a prison all the same. I’ve been confined within these walls and given the choice between my own freedom and the life of my unborn child — that is, if they’re telling the truth about that.

I make a mental note to ask Ember tomorrow for proof, but I’m pretty sure she isn’t lying to me about this. I’ve been exhausted, the mere thought of food is repulsive, my mind has been scattered. I blamed it all on the stress of our search. I’d like to believe that if I had known before that I was pregnant that I would have stayed in the grove, that I wouldn’t have rushed off on my own.

I flop down onto the bed and rest my hands on my belly, my legs dangle over the edge.

Alright, Mags… work the problem.

I’m trapped in an underground cave with a group of dragons known for their resistance to magic and poison. The only known way to kill them is unavailable to me, according to my enemy, but testing that allegation would be playing roulette with my, also alleged, baby’s life. I have no weapons and no way to contact home.

Okay. I can do this.

First, verify pregnancy. If I’m not, then I torch the place. If I am…well, I can still kick ass. I’ll need to give my guards the slip and go exploring through the cave for an exit that I can sneak out of and fly home. And in the interim, knowing I’m too important to Ian for him to kill me, I’m going to annoy the absolute fuck out of him.

With that happy thought firmly planted in my mind, I let my eyes slide close and sleep overcome me.

My dreamless sleep is interrupted by the faintest tickling on my stomach, but it’s an itch I can’t scratch because when I go to swat whatever it is that’s tickling me away, I can’t bring my arm down from resting above my head. I can’t bring either arm down.

I wake more fully, shaking the drowsiness from my mind and look up towards my hand only to find it shackled to the bedpost. I tug angrily at the restraints but they’re unbothered by my efforts to free myself.

Lifting my head as much as I can, I notice the same shackles securing my ankles to the bed posts at the end of the bed.

“What the fuck?” I whisper to myself, my words getting lost within the blanket of darkness that covers every corner of the room.

A sharp sting bites at the exposed skin on my stomach. The bed posts creak in annoyance as my body attempts to jolt upwards into a crunch, only to be thrown back by the restraints on my arms and legs.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, a flower as elegant as you should not allow such foul words to poison her mouth.” Ian’s voice cuts through the silence of the night like a hot blade and he finally steps out of the shadows to reveal himself standing next to my bed with a black riding crop in his hand.

“Fuck you!” I spit angrily at him but as soon as the words leave my lips he smacks me with the crop again, this time it bites a few inches lower down my abdomen.

“This doesn’t have to hurt, my sweet Magnolia.” He glides the riding crop up my stomach, raising my shirt along with it so my breasts are now exposed. “I can show you exactly how good things can be for you here, exactly how much I can please you.” He gently flicks the crop at my nipple, it doesn’t bite or sting me the way it had when he struck my stomach but it does cause my nipples to reflexively harden and pebble.

“If you say yes to my proposition, I’ll bring you untold pleasure.” He slides the crop from my right breast, over my sternum, and over to my left breast giving my other nipple a matching flick.

The bed posts audibly strain to resist how I struggle to slip out of the restraints and put an end to Ian’s unsolicited touch.

“What kind of man are you? You’re so confident that I’ll even want whatever bullshit you have to offer but yet you strap me to the bed. You’re a fucking coward.”

The crop lands hard blows against my ribs; once, twice, three times he hits me.

“My love, this is your dream. Dare I say, your fantasy?” The crop slides down the center of my body straight down to the apex of my thighs.

“Gaslighting me in order to justify assault isn’t a quality I find attractive in a husband.”

The crop licks at my slit slowly, heating my skin and causing my body to betray me with a rush of fluid. With my legs spread and tied to the bed, I’m completely exposed to him, completely subjected to his will.

“Assault?” He tests the word out, chewing it, tasting it, assessing how apt the word is to this situation. He pushes the leathery tip past my outer folds and slides it up along my seam before bringing it close to my face. “Would you drip with arousal like this if I had assaulted you?”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer, he brings the crop back down and begins to rain quick, consecutive blows to my clit.

“Hmm,” he purrs, “such a beautiful fantasy you’ve created.”

My breathing has turned ragged and shallow. Even more aggravating than being shackled to this bed is how my body betrays me by responding to his unwanted touch.

“More like a nightmare,” I grit out, my teeth clenched so tightly together I’m sure they’ll shatter under the pressure. “Now get your fucking hands off of me.”

He hits me directly on the clit so hard I cry out a string of incoherent insults.

“My hands haven’t actually touched you yet, but I can.”

Ian drops the crop and shifts so he’s hovering over me. “Time to wake up my little flower,” is all Ian says before he cups my sex and presses a thumb hard against my clit forcing a wave of unwanted pleasure to crest deep within my core.

“Fuck!” I scream as I contract my abs and pull my body up into a sitting position so hard and so fast I smack my face against my bent knees. It takes me a second to realize that the shackles are gone, vanished completely and that I’m laying under the bed sheet fully clothed.

I send a fireball around the room igniting all the candles, illuminating the room and exposing its contents to the light. There’s no sign of Ian, there are no marks on my wrists or ankles, and the build up I felt seconds ago is completely gone.

Could that all really have been a dream? It felt so real, though I’d rather go on believing that it truly was just a dream, just my mind processing being trapped here with a monster like Ian. Yeah, that’s all that was.

I sigh deeply as I rub my hands over my eyes and face, then I lay back down and try to go back to bed. Rather than falling back asleep all I manage to do is stare at the ceiling for the remainder of the night, but I won’t yet admit that it’s because I’m too afraid to dream again.