White Knight

Part 1

Cold sweat dripped down her body as she thrashed in the bed. The nightmare overcame her senses: the breath on the back of her neck, the teeth snapping at her heels. Whimpering in fear, she curled into herself, held her body tightly and tried to be still. He can't see me if I'm silent and still. The same lie she told herself every night. The shivering that racked her body finally ceased. Her breathing became strained and shallow. The beast of her nightmares neared. It was stalking her, using the pungent scent of her fear to track her. Screwing her eyes closed even tighter she clung to the nightmare, determined to see the end of it. The beast stared straight at her, revealing the dozen rows of terrifyingly sharp teeth that would tear her apart limb from limb before devouring her piece by piece. The monster growled. She knew she was done for. In her dreams no-one came for her;the man with the white hair and golden eyes that changed colour did not slay the monster and steal her away to a life she did not understand. The monster tore at her body until she was nothing but a shell.

Strong arms gripped her, just below the elbows before venturing to her throat, squeezing just tight enough to force her eyes open and her body to wake. The white haired knight looked down at her with cool disdain, his eyes bloodshot. He was drunk. A sly half-smile tugged at his lips and she felt his desire pressing against her leg. She blinked up at him, trying to determine what kind of man she would find herself with tonight. But she knew, the drunk man was the violent one. The one that wished her harm and would do anything to see her cry and scream and beg for mercy. The drunk man was a bad man, but he was not as bad as the sober one. His eyes drifted closed for a second, then two. He was listening to her breathing, counting her heartbeats as he always did, knowing that without him they were numbered. Too pretty. Too innocent. The little girl he hid in his bedchambers would not survive in the world outside of it.

"Pretty girl." He soothed a hand down her face and her mouth popped open slightly, confusion shrouding her beautiful blue eyes. He slapped her across the face for everything she did to him. The weakness he felt in his heart for the girl. It was unforgivable. He hated her for it.

The satin nightgown was hurriedly forced up to her hips. She didn't move to help him, nor did she protest. This was the price she had to pay - she had known it all along. The monster had been the better choice. Regret flooded her veins making her shiver. He thought it was from pleasure, a wolfish grin spread across his features as he pushed her knees apart. In his drunken stupor he missed twice, and she resigned herself to staring at the headboard just inside her field of vision. Who had taken to time to carve the dark stained wood? So intricately carved,, it must have taken months, if not years. He rode her well into the night, while she counted the intricate leaves carved into the headboard. She was into the hundreds when he finally shuddered, collapsing on top of her, drifting into a soundless sleep.

Taking a deep breath she slowly moved out from under him, careful not to wake him. The anger he had shown the first and only time he had woken was enough to send violent shivers down her spine. She had been sore for weeks after that night. Bruises decorated every inch of skin that wouldn't show under her dress. That night he had shown her what it meant to be truly disgusted by another human being. The morning after, she was covered in his desire, and bruises had already started forming on her stomach and chest. She had not dared wake him ever again. In the darkness of the night, she felt for her bedside table, carefully pulling out the book she kept hidden there. He forbade her to read, to educate herself in any way. At night when he was fast asleep she read and she dreamed. It was the only way she knew how to keep the nightmare at bay. She stayed awake half the night, telling herself, just one more page. Just one more chapter. The sky outside the bedroom was starting to lighten by the time she put the book down, completed at last.

🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯🔯

Cold white arms were draped around her waist, pinning her to the bed. She struggled for a few moments before realising it was useless; even in his sleep the white knight was far stronger than her. Turning to face him she sighed deeply, sore in places she had forgot existed. She wanted to wash herself, to cleanse her body of his vile seed. But with him laying beside her, there was nothing she could do. Carefully, she traced a finger down his cheek, holding her breath until his eyes snapped open, watching her warily. Her eyes immediately dropped from his, while she started to undo the buttons to the ice blue night shirt.Without looking she could feel his gaze change, he was suspicious, but enthralled by her actions. This was the woman he wanted, brave, fierce and passionate. A woman that wanted him every hour of every day and would never say no.