Rage & Ruin | 18+

2| I want Everything from you, Daphne

Finally, the waltz came to an end, and they were released from their twisted embrace. Alaric let go of her arm, a satisfied smile curling his lips. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk.

Daphne wanted nothing more than to run from the room, to escape the stares and whispers that followed her every move. But she remained where she was, her body numb and her thoughts in a whirl. She forced a small smile, feeling the warmth drain from her cheeks. "No, my lord," she managed to say. "It was lovely."

Alaric took her hand again, leading her off the dance floor. "Good," he said, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment. "Because we're going to dance again later." He didn't give her a chance to respond, simply pulling her toward a table and motioning for her to sit down. As he took his seat across from her, she couldn't help but feel trapped.

The rest of the evening seemed to pass in a blur. She endured several more dances with Alaric, each one more intimate than the last. His hands roamed freely over her body, his lips pressed against her neck, his hips grinding against hers. She tried to maintain a neutral expression, to act as if this was all perfectly normal, but she could feel the shame burning in her cheeks, the anger and despair twisting her insides.

As the night wore on, she began to notice a shift in the crowd's reaction to their dancing. At first, there were whispers and disapproving glances, but as Alaric's hold on her tightened, as his hands wandered farther and farther beneath her dress, she could see the interest, the desire, growing in their eyes. She felt like a prize on display, nothing more than an object to be won or lost in their twisted game.

The final dance of the evening came, and Alaric led her to the center of the dance floor. He pulled her close, his body pressing against hers, and she felt the heat from his skin through her gown. "You know," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear, "you could make this so much easier for both of us."

Daphne forced herself to remain still, to keep her expression neutral. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear, her revulsion. "And what would that be, my lord?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.

Alaric leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You could let me bed you," he whispered, his lips brushing against her skin. "You could give me what I want, and in return, I would make sure your life here was easy. Comfortable." He squeezed her hip, his grip firm. "You could have anything you desire."

Daphne swallowed hard, her heart racing. She knew what he was asking, and she knew the price that would come with it. But she also knew that if she refused, if she didn't give in to his demands, things would only get worse. She forced a small laugh, trying to sound amused rather than terrified. "Oh, my lord," she said, her voice light and airy. "You mistake my intentions. I meant no such thing."

Alaric's grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her hip. His face darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might strike her. But then he leaned back, releasing her. "Very well," he growled. "But remember, Daphne. The offer stands. You need only say the word, and I will make everything better."

He led her back to the table where their guests sat, their conversation a dull roar in her ears. She couldn't focus on anything but the feel of his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd. As they reached the table, he released her and turned away, disappearing into the throng of people.

Daphne took a shaky breath, trying to steady her nerves. She forced a smile onto her face, even as she felt like she might be sick. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of meaningless conversation and stilted laughter. She danced with several other nobles, but each time she felt Alaric's eyes on her, she could feel the weight of his desires pressing down upon her.

Finally, the party drew to a close. The guests began to file out, their goodbyes growing less and less sincere as they bade their farewells to their host and hostess. Daphne waited until she could no longer feel Alaric's gaze upon her before slipping away from the crowd. She hurried up the stairs, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the ballroom and find someplace quiet where she could be alone with her thoughts.

Her chambermaid, a young girl named Lily, was already waiting for her, the fire burning brightly in the hearth. "My lady," she said, curtsey ing. "I trust you had an enjoyable evening?"

Daphne forced a smile, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. "Yes, thank you, Lily. You may help me ready for bed." She moved to sit at her dressing table, watching as Lily began to undo the clasps of her gown.

As the girl worked, Daphne stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale and hollow-eyed, a ghost of herself. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was living a nightmare, that at any moment she would wake up from this horrific reality. But she knew that was impossible. Alaric was her husband now, and he expected her to play the role of his obedient wife.

When Lily had finished her task, Daphne thanked her and dismissed her for the night. The moment the door clicked shut, she allowed herself to slump in the chair, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She felt so alone, so trapped. How could she have ever thought she could escape this fate?

The sound of footsteps in the hallway made her jump, and she hastily wiped her eyes before standing. It was him. Alaric. He strode into the room, his expression cold and unforgiving. "I trust you enjoyed the party," he said, his voice filled with venom. "Your sister certainly knew how to throw a memorable affair before she abandoned us all."

Daphne clenched her fists, anger rising within her. "What do you want from me?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

Alaric stepped closer, his hands sliding around her waist to pull her tightly against him. His eyes were cold, his smile cruel. "Everything," he murmured, his breath hot against her cheek. "I want everything from you, Daphne. Your body, your soul, your every waking moment."