TAINTED BLOOD (Aro Volturi X Reader)

Awoken Nightmare

*WARNING*CRUEL EXPLICIT CONTENT*

Y/N groaned. Her head throbbed, a relentless hammer against her skull, and every muscle in her body screamed in protest. She was aching, a deep, pervasive pain that seemed to emanate from the very core of her being.

Slowly, painfully, her consciousness sharpened. She was lying on something rough and cold, the texture scraping against her cheek. Her hands were bound, rough rope biting into her skin, the tightness a constricting band around her wrists. Panic, cold and sharp, began to claw at the edges of her foggy mind.

Where was she? How did she get here?

Her vision was a swirling mess of blurry colours, like a watercolor painting left out in the rain. She blinked, trying to force her eyes to focus, but the world remained a hazy, indistinct landscape. A wave of nausea washed over her, making her stomach churn. She swallowed hard, the movement sending another jolt of pain through her head.

She tried to sit up, a desperate urge to see, to understand, but the ropes held her fast. A frustrated gasp escaped her lips, the sound lost in the oppressive quiet. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence.

Fear, raw and primal, began to take root. The unknown was a suffocating blanket, smothering her with its chilling uncertainty. She was trapped, vulnerable, and utterly alone.

Suddenly, she felt the unnerving warmth that coiled around her neck. It felt unfamiliar, a chillingly unfamiliar weight that sent a shiver down her spine. She reached up, her hands still bound, fingers brushing against cold, smooth metal. It was a collar, the same type Viktor used on his Lycan's, a symbol of his brutal control.

Then she noticed.

She noticed the clinging of metal on her wrists. The family bound of her magic. They placed her wrists back into the magic bounding bracelets. Then they tied her hands together with rope. Apparently they were scared a mortal witch could escape

Again.

Memories flickered through her mind, fragmented and unsettling. Viktor's cold eyes, the glint of steel, a sharp pain that had momentarily eclipsed her senses.

She struggled to sit up, the metal digging into her skin, a constant reminder of her predicament. The collar was cold, almost biting, and a strange energy pulsed through it, a faint thrumming that resonated with a deep, primal fear.

Y/N was no stranger to Viktor's cruelty.

A faint sound, a distant creak or groan, pierced the stillness. Her head snapped in the direction of the noise, her eyes straining to pierce the fog that clouded her vision. was she truly at the mercy of Viktor?

The questions tumbled through her mind, each one a sharp shard of ice against her already fractured state. She had to escape. She had to fight. But with her body aching, her head pounding, and her vision obscured, she felt like a fragile bird caught in a hunter's snare.

The chill of the stone seeped into Y/N's bones, a stark contrast to the warmth of the moonlight filtering through the circular opening high above. It was a pale, ethereal light, illuminating the rough-hewn walls of her prison and casting long, dancing shadows. She finally understood where she was. The North. The land she had fled, the land that held the horrors of her past, the land of Viktor's coven and the slaved Lycan's.

Viktor appeared from the shadows, his silhouette a stark, menacing figure against the moonlight. His eyes, piercing and cold, held a knowing glint. Y/N didn't know how long he'd been there, watching her, a silent predator observing its prey. His presence was a chilling confirmation of her worst fears.