Page 205 of Moonlit Fate

Sinuous ropes of magic emanated from him, coiling around his body before transforming into writhing tendrils that penetrated my flesh. The tattoos ignited as they reacted to the serpentine magic that burrowed through my body, tearing through muscles and nerves. I clenched my teeth as a pain more potent than anything I’d ever felt before gripped my body.

“I thought I made it quite clear that you were no longer permitted to see that bitch,” he said, his tone cutting through the air like freezing daggers. “I even provided you with a good fuck, so there would be no need for you to venture back to her.”

“Look how you’ve thanked me.” Another wave of magic crashed through me, threatening to drag me under.

The grip of his magic loosened just enough for me to draw a ragged breath. “What do you have to say for yourself?” He let out a menacing growl, demanding an answer I wasn’t eager to give.

I fought through the haze of torment, keeping as steady as possible. “I’m sorry, Father, it won’t happen again.”

The words were a lie, an illusion of the subjugation he so badly wanted from me, and a shield thrown up to protect Aria from the psychopath that was my father. He couldn’t know how deep my feelings ran because he would use it as a weapon.

“Good,” Caius said, a sinister satisfaction in his tone. Then, he stole the air from my lungs. Gasping, my chest tightened indesperation; the world around me spun in a dizzying blur of stars, and I teetered on the edge of consciousness.

Just before the world faded to black, the air was returned, but the reprieve was fleeting. He had a point to prove. The unnatural magic he wielded forced its way into my bloodstream and inflicted a searing agony throughout my body that surpassed any previous torment. I couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from my throat.

I fought to keep my mental shields locked tight. Aria couldn’t sense this. I wouldn’t share the darkness of these emotions. Desperation lent me strength, and I held on, even as every fiber of my being cried out for release.

After what seemed like an eternity, the incessant torture came to an abrupt halt. The absence of pain was as striking as the agony I had endured, as I anxiously awaited what would come next.

“You will produce an heir,” Caius said without any warmth. “With the woman I have chosen for you.” Then, as if to punctuate his decree, another surge of white hot pain shot through me.

I grunted, clenching my fists. The sensation of being skewered from the inside was almost too much, yet I fought not to show him the full extent of my misery. I refused to give him any further satisfaction from his sadistic torments.

“Tomorrow,” he continued, each word like a hammer to my gut, “you’ll be mated. We have no more time to waste.”

My stomach plummeted. An icy dread settled in its place, spreading throughout my entire being. Mated tomorrow? With fucking Valora. The very thought made me nauseous, but I kept my face impassive.

“And Atticus, I expect an heir to be conceived in the first few months,” he added.

Why this obsession with an heir?

“Your service to me is to sacrifice your magic to me,” Caius said, as though he’d plucked the thought straight out of my head. “Continue creating heirs with your... superior genetics, and they, too, will give their magic to me. Once that’s done, you’re simply a placeholder, my heir in name only.”

I recoiled. My father expected me to surrender my essence, my very power, to him. The notion clawed at my spirit.

He must have seen some of the horror in my face because once again all the air left my lungs.

“Of course, you must gift it willingly,” he sneered. “That fucking useless warlock has failed to find a way for me to take it by force. But I trust you’ll make the right choice,son.”

His emphasis on ‘son’ stung with mockery. I struggled for air, choking on the bitterness of his expectations. The world narrowed to the burn in my lungs. Every instinct screamed to fight back, to deny him what he wanted, but the consequences... they weren’t mine alone to bear.

Gasping, clawing for air that wouldn’t come, my vision blurred. Each desperate inhale was a futile battle against the iron grip Caius held on my lungs. I was slipping, the edges of consciousness fraying.

“Need... air,” I managed.

“Pathetic,” Caius spat, standing over me with disdain flashing in his eyes. He released his hold slightly, allowing a trickle of life-giving oxygen to return.

I sucked in a shallow breath, feeling the cool rush of air fill my lungs. My head spun, and through the haze of pain, one clear thought emerged: Aria. The need to see her, to be with her, surged within me, a light in the darkness that was rapidly closing in.

“There are no limits when it comes to serving your lineage, Atticus. I’m certain you’ll make the right decision.” He laughed, a cruel sound that burrowed into my brain.

The pain came again, a tidal wave crashing over me. It scorched through my veins like wildfire, setting every nerve-ending ablaze. The tattoo on my arm glowed ominously, its heat unbearable. I tried to keep my mental shields up, to protect Aria from the torment I was enduring, but the relentless agony tore through my defenses.

“Stop,” I choked out between gritted teeth. “Please.”

“Your pleas mean nothing,” he said, cold as ice. His face held a twisted glee as he watched me squirm. “This is your future. Accept it.”

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t accept a life without Aria. The thought of being tied to another, forced to relinquish my magic, my essence, was too much. Yet, resisting Caius meant endangering everything I cherished. Including her.

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