The Fall Of Imbria (The Fendara Series. Book One)

Chapter Thirteen: Victoria

🔥 be prepared there are triggers of torture, sex, violence, and abuse verbal and physical. Non-Con. Dub-Con. Forced concent.🔥

I ran straight into the throne room with everything I had. My powers were flowing through me, my sword clashing against the guards in my way, leaving bloodied bodies covered in crimson on the cold navy marbled floor.

I got farther than I thought I would before the use of my powers left me drained and falling to my knees, an all to familiar feeling I'm now stuck resenting again. I wish I knew why I can't use the full strength of my magic before becoming faint, after all my training I still feel like I'm failing my own lineage of powerful magics.

And somehow here I am, arms slank at my sides and eyes trying to fight to stay open.

King Barron approaches me, each step pounding in my ears. He gestures his hand towards his guards and just like that, all the men surrounding me took five steps back. Finally he stops directly in front of me, placing his thumb and knuckle on my chin, tilting my head up to look at him.

My eyes meet his amber hued iris's, his short clean brown hair and rough, peppered beard covering half of his hardened facial expression. "One girl with all this power, yet you can barely make it across my Throne room floor. What a pity. . . What a waste." He releases his hand, causing my head to fall forward, I reach out using my arms to keep me from smacking the ground. "Magic is such a disgusting thing, leaching on to such poor dirty people." The King just stands there looking down on me, arms crossed and face that of distain.

"What's disgusting is that you think you can just keep people locked up in this hell hole you call a kingdom because they're more powerful than you." I say forcing myself to talk. "If there is anything us Witches and Warlocks hate more than hiding because of who we are, it's a fool wearing a heavy crown with the unwillingness to know how to truly wield it."

I know I am pushing my luck with what I said, I'm even a little concerned about it but I think my worry is stuck on the focus of Nells escape and not going unconscious.

He snickers at me. "My Father was right, all those years ago, none of you are worth saving. . . Well maybe to be experimented on but that's the least of my priorities." He squats down in front of me, looking further into my eyes. "have you not wondered yet why you're here?" He asks me.

That's a good question. I honestly assumed I was just some witch they wanted to take advantage of or try and use me for something but being starved and dehydrated will do that to you. Make your only thoughts be that to escape.

I don't answer him, I just spit in his face. I regret it not far after as my face is met with the forceful right hook of his fist, sending me knocking to the ground, this time unable to catch myself.

Blood drops from my mouth as it splats on the cold ground beneath my palms as I force my self to rise to my knees again on shaky arms. When I look back up at King Aleric Beron, he's wiping my spit off his face with the cloth from a servant who has been standing by holding a silver tray with a challis sitting atop it.

My bloodied grin doesn't seem to amuse him as he just stands there staring back at me. "Just like your father. If I knew what was good for me I would've hunted you down and tossed you to the pigs like you all deserve." He hisses at me.

My father? What is he talking about? There is no way he knows of my father, he wasn't even king when he fought in the war. It doesn't add up. "What are you talking about?" I ask furiously.

He just gives me an evil smirk. "Oh, you don't know?"

I'm quiet, my mind stirring trying to dig deeper into my memories to find some srap of knowledge from my past. But I was young and much of the war I chose to forget.