34 Years Ago....Under the Mountain
Rhysand
It was all his fault.
The screams of agony coming from the cold dungeon ripped through him, creating holes through the barrier he had created to prevent his feelings from coming out. His blood still trickled down his back, Rhysand could feel the slashes from Amarantha’s whip still weren’t healing but they did not matter.
The female down in the dungeons who was about to give birth to his child mattered.
The shadows curled around his hands as his fury rose and his terror for the fragile female took over. She wouldn’t be able to handle the torture that Amarantha would bestow upon her for sleeping with him. For betraying Amarantha, they would both suffer, but Rhysand could take the punishment. Dekara couldn’t. She was already too weak from being starved. How would she give birth, and survive the merciless might of the bitch he hated the most?
Rhysand let his Fae ears reach out and heard the conversation down below.
“I can’t push anymore! I cannot! I’m too tired!”
“You need to push, or the child will die, miss!”
“If I give birth, my child will suffer by Amarantha! I won’t subject my child to that monster!”
Rhysand had heard enough. He was immediately pushing past the guards, heading down the cold stone steps to the dungeons. The guards didn’t bother to stop him. They had orders from Amarantha herself that if he went down to comfort Dekara, they would report to her straight away. Rhysand could hear the footsteps of the guards as they went to tell her about his actions.
Damn them. Damn them all. One day I will rip her head from her shoulders and go back to Velaris to Mor, Azriel, Cassian and even goddamn Amren.
Rhysand let his power slam into the gate and it flew off its hinges and crashed into the wall. The screaming got louder and Rhysand ran into one of the dungeons.
Dekara was sitting against the wall, the healer telling her to push but Dekara for all her worth was holding back the terrible pains. Her pale face that was soaked in sweat, the shackles around her wrists and ankles, her torn and filthy dress that had blood staining it. A pool of blood was slowly spreading on the stone ground and Dekara screamed as another wave of agony swept through her.
This is all my fault.
Rhysand bent down beside Dekara and gripped her hand. Her eyes flew open and focused on him, her breath ragged. “Rhys” she gasped and squeezed his hand as pain flooded her body once more. “She needs to push!” snapped the healer and Rhysand turned back to Dekara.
“Listen to me, Dekara. I promise you I will protect our child no matter the cost. I will never forgive myself for what will happen tonight, but Amarantha will kill you. If you do not push, the baby will die and so will you.”
“Rhys...” her voice broke and Rhysand felt his heart split in half. This is my fault. This is my fault. This is my fault. This is my fault. I should be the one to die tonight not Dekara.
“Take care of my baby” she sobbed and Rhysand stroked her cheek as she pushed with all her strength. His eyes closed, feeling tears he thought had long disappeared from his eyes threaten to fall. Shadows wrapped around Dekara, enveloping her slight body as the cries of a new-born filled the dungeons.
“Please” whispered Dekara and Rhysand let his eyes follow to her hand, her fingers tapping at her chest. “Don’t let her get to me. Please, let me die here.”
“What fun would that be?” purred a familiar voice and Rhysand turned, eyes turning to ice, as he looked upon Amarantha, surrounded by her guards.
Rhysand looked upon Dekara, the female who had shied away from him so much, scared about what Amarantha would do if she bedded her whore. Those ice blue eyes, once full of shyness, now full of terror and they bored into his corrupted soul and he knew what she was asking of him. To end her life before Amarantha could lay a finger on her.
Rhysand gave a slight tilt of his head towards her, ready to end her suffering when Amarantha would leave them alone. The baby still screamed and screamed and Rhysand looked up as the midwife was about to hand his child to that bitch with the red hair. That face who took place in his many nightmares, the one who made him endure hell for the people he loved.
“Touch my child” he snarled, and even the midwife paused, “and I will rip your mind apart, Amarantha!”
The shadows curled around his child and brought it into his arms and snarls ripped from him at the thought of Amarantha hurting his child. Rhysand looked down at his child, a female, he realised and realised his atrocious act. He had sired an innocent child into the world where a monster controlled him.
Rhysand bent by Dekara and handed his daughter to her. A chance to hold her child before he took her life. Amarantha noticed and she laughed, a laugh full of cruelty.
“Rhys, all this is your fault” she took a step forward and Rhysand growled but Amarantha wasn’t fazed. Power slammed into him and Rhysand crashed into the far wall. His head cracked against the wall, and Rhysand groaned, his vision blurry. There was the clacking of chains, then they bound his arms behind his back and Rhysand felt his powers weaken as he struggled to regain his sight.
“Get away from her!” screamed a female voice and there was the sound of a baby screaming and familiar laughter, a sound he could never erase from his mind. Hands hauled him up and his vision cleared to see Amarantha standing before him. “Oh how I’m going to enjoy punishing you” she purred, her nails slicing across his throat. “But first I’m going to have my fun with your whore.”
Rhysand was dragged out of the dungeon, roaring, as the sounds of his lovers screams of agony filled the air once more.
