Love In The Shadows | Fred Weasley x OC

Chapter 103

Chapter 103: The Cage

The storm outside raged with a fury that matched the chaos inside Malfoy Manor. The echo of thunder mingled with the relentless pounding of rain against the stone walls, while within the grand corridors, the splintered remnants of shattered wood and overturned furniture bore witness to the night's calamity. In one of the darker, less frequented halls of the manor, Adhara found herself dragged, her protests muffled by the heavy grip of the enforcers.

"Let me go!" she screamed, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. The enforcers' hold was unyielding as they forced her along a narrow corridor. The echo of her cries was swallowed by the vastness of the manor. Each step they took was deliberate, as if they were transporting her to a fate that had been sealed long before she ever chose to run.

At the far end of the hall, beneath flickering torches that cast long, eerie shadows on the stone walls, stood a massive iron door. Its surface was cold and uninviting, engraved with dark runes meant to instill fear. The door marked the end of the corridor and the beginning of a place no one in the family wanted anyone to see. Adhara's heart pounded as they neared it, a chill running through her veins.

"No," she whispered to herself, a desperate plea hanging in the air as she realized what was coming. In that moment, she turned to Max, who had trailed behind in silence. "Max, don't let them do this," she pleaded, her voice cracking with anguish.

For an agonizing moment, Max hesitated, his face a mask of conflict and regret. Before she could register his expression, Lucius Malfoy's cold voice cut through the darkness. "You have done your part, Maximilien. You may go."

Max's eyes flickered with sorrow and resignation as he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Adhara alone with her fate. The sound of his footsteps faded, and with them, any hope that perhaps someone would come to her rescue.

The enforcers yanked open the iron door with brutal force and shoved Adhara inside. The door slammed shut behind her, and she heard the heavy lock click into place, sealing her inside. Darkness enveloped the small chamber—a cold, damp cell with rough, uneven stone walls and a single, barred window high above. The only light came from a narrow slit that barely allowed the moon's glow to filter in.

Adhara sank to her knees on the hard, cold floor. Her arms trembled as she pressed her palms against the barred door, trying in vain to force it open. "LET ME OUT!" she shouted, pounding on the door with all the strength she could muster. Her words echoed, lost in the oppressive silence of the cell. The storm outside was the only response she received—a relentless, indifferent roar.

Her heart pounded so hard she was sure it would shatter. Every breath felt labored, every moment stretching out into an eternity of despair. As tears welled in her eyes, she forced them back, determined not to let the anguish break her completely. But as her strength waned, the emotions she had kept locked away for so long began to surface. She whispered, almost inaudibly, "Fred..." The sound of his name was both a plea and a lament—a call to the man she had once loved with everything in her.

The memory of Fred's unwavering determination, the way he had fought to steal her away that fateful night, came flooding back. She remembered the look in his eyes as they had shared that final, desperate embrace, and a part of her still clung to that hope. Now, trapped in this cell, every fiber of her being screamed for him, for the freedom they had once dared to imagine together.

Time in the cell became a tormenting blur. Every minute felt like an hour, every sound amplified by her isolation. She recalled the whispers of the guests at the wedding, the shock on their faces as she had run away with him. She remembered Fred's anguished cry, his desperate plea for her to choose love over duty. Now, alone with her thoughts, she began to understand the terrible cost of that choice.

Her mind wandered to the promises she had made to herself in the quiet moments before the chaos began—a promise to never be confined by her family's expectations, to never allow the weight of their legacy to crush her spirit. But here, in this cold, unforgiving cell, it all felt like a cruel joke. She had been so sure that leaving was the only way to reclaim her freedom, and yet it had only led her into another prison—a cage forged by her father's wrath and sealed with the iron of tradition.

In a fit of despair, Adhara sank to the floor and began to weep. Her tears, mingled with the cold sweat of fear and regret, flowed freely as she allowed herself to feel the full magnitude of her loss. She remembered the way Fred's eyes had lit up when he saw her at the wedding, the way he had promised to never let her go. Now, those promises seemed like a distant echo, a memory fading in the relentless march of time.

As the minutes turned to hours, the sounds of the storm outside became a constant companion, a reminder of the chaos that reigned both within these walls and in the world beyond. Adhara's thoughts turned to the future—if there was any. Would Fred be able to save her? Would he find a way to tear down the walls that separated them, even as her father's enforcers ensured she remained captive? The uncertainty was a poison, slowly seeping into her resolve.

Then, as if carried by the storm itself, a faint sound reached her ears—a distant, echoing footstep. Adhara's heart leapt with a mix of hope and terror. Could it be Fred? Had he come for her? She strained to listen, but the sound was swallowed by the thunder and the patter of rain on stone. Instead, the only certainty was the oppressive silence that followed, a silence that spoke of inevitability.

In that long, dark solitude, Adhara resolved that she would not let this cage define her. Even if she was trapped, even if the world outside sought to crush her spirit, she would find a way to fight back. Fred's name became a silent mantra, a promise to herself that she would survive this, that she would reclaim the life she once dreamed of.

Tears still stained her cheeks as she whispered, "Fred, I'll find a way. I promise I won't let them break me." The words were a desperate vow—a vow to fight, to endure, and to keep alive the hope of a love that had once seemed impossible.

The storm raged on outside, unyielding and relentless. Inside the cell, every moment was a battle against despair, but Adhara's spirit, though battered, was not yet extinguished. She closed her eyes, drawing strength from the memories of Fred's embrace, the sound of his voice, the echo of his promise that they would face the world together.

Though locked away, Adhara knew deep down that her fight was far from over. In that cold, dark cell, she began to plan her escape, not just from the physical confines of Malfoy Manor, but from the life that had been forced upon her. Even as fear threatened to overwhelm her, a quiet determination took root. The cost of defiance was high, but the price of surrender was even higher.

And so, with a final, shuddering breath, Adhara vowed that she would not be broken. No matter how dark the night, no matter how high the walls, her love for Fred—and the hope that they could be free—would light the way. In that moment of profound solitude, she resolved that she would fight back, and one day, she would find her way out of this cage.

The future was uncertain, and the storm outside promised more challenges. But Adhara knew one thing for certain: she would never let go of the hope that had sustained her, nor would she allow the darkness to claim her soul. She would endure, she would fight, and she would reclaim her life—one determined step at a time.