I Exist Alone In Your Bed

Chapter 14- Defiler's Kiss

Hey guys, you know I won't abandon you. For this chapter, I've put extra "warnings" on it. I'm rolling with it in true Bolton fashion, so good luck. I've been gone for a while due to life and stuff. I'm also working on updating other fanfics and writing new ones for LOTR and Harry Potter. I've been obsessed with Professor Lupin recently and really want to write a story for him since he's a good-guy and I want to write wholesome fluff so bad (I need to cleanse my soul after writing this story haha). Anyway, buckle up as best you can and enjoy.

WARNING WARNING WARNING: This fan fiction contains mature language and mature subject matter including violence, blood, emotionally triggering situations, and sexual situations. Do not read if you are easily disturbed by mature subject matter.

Chapter 14- Defiler's Kiss

The surrounding world narrowed, the corners of Eve's vision black and hazy as she numbly followed the limping Greyjoy through snowy dirt paths and dim stone corridors towards Ramsay's bedchambers. Nerves drowned out her senses and left her body with the sensation of floating forward on a path against her will. Turn back. Turn back now. Her mind chanted frantically, but her legs betrayed such thoughts as they obediently carried her onward towards the certain slaughter of her heart.

"I-I'll b-be o-outside," Theon's shaking words met her ears as he stopped before an imposing set of large wooden doors, knocking with reluctance. Those three knocks seemed to seal her fate. She stopped as well, her body wavering back and forth in the urge to run away, fear the only hostile force keeping her feet firmly planted.

"Enter."

There it was—the muffled, wicked invitation that sounded from within, laced with promises of unknown pain and much, much worse.

In abrupt desperation, Eve silently grasped Theon's arms as he made to open to door. Her grip grew strong as she trembled, her eyes meeting his in a silent plea as she mouthed the word in tears: No.

Theon watched the crying young girl before him in pity, truly looking in her eyes for the first time since Ramsay had...had broken him. Shining eyes begged him, filled with such terror they reflected his own like a harrowing mirror. Short nails dug into the scarred flesh of his arm, their owner frenzied and desperate not to be delivered through those doors. He shook with the guilty realization, his head jerking painfully as his crumpled limbs throbbed and deep scars burned. His entire body screamed with the reminder of his place and he sobbed at his utter helplessness.

"S-sorry...I'm...so—s—sorry," Was all he could muster in response. An apology for his cowardice. His eyes grew rampant with fear as he clumsily opened the latch, jerking his attention away from the innocent girl as her feminine sobs pierced the empty hall upon his denial to help. In the end, he was nothing more than a cowardly creature—a disgusting, pitiful beast. He was Reek.

With that, he ruefully pushed her in like a lamb to slaughter, turning back quickly to retreat and save himself the pain as he caught a glimpse of Sansa standing anxiously within the chambers in her clean white wedding dress. She was truly beautiful. His master was sure to ruin it. He could not bear to witness that.

Ramsay gazed at the jumbled little blonde stumbling into his bedchambers with her head cast down nearly to her toes. Well, this certainly was not how he imagined his perfect wedding night; at the foot of his bed stood a rather grimStark and at his door a fragmented Greyjoy with his lady love looking like someone had just stolen her cake. It was far from the ideal picture—he had at least hoped for a little more sobbing and screaming. Of course, pleading was also welcome. His grin grew wide as he relished in the uneasy silence—that would soon be amended.