BOOK II.
Four months have passed since Ashton and Ria's relationship fell into ruins. He's convinced that she hates him and she believes he never loved her. Giving up on each other, they attempt to mend their loneliness in the arms of their past; Ch...
Warning: The beginning of the following scene will deal with sexual assault and murder and may be difficult to read for some viewers. Skip over the events happening in italics if you wish to avoid this.
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❝She strives to soar fearlessly into the starless night.❞
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SLEEP IS EASILY Vivian's greatest enemy. She finds herself restless most nights, tossing and turning from the same nightmare that plagues her very existence. At night, she sees him; Nikolai's twisted face hovering above hers as he invades her body like it belongs to him.
Despite her tireless cries and desperate thrashing, he won't stop.
Why won't he leave her alone? Why can't he listen to her?
"Please don't make me do this," she cries.
Life drains from her body and soul.
Her pleas are met with husky grunts as his body continuously violates hers. Dead dirt-colored eyes bore into hers. Sweat drips from his face as he consumes his pleasure and feeds her horrors.
"Please stop!" She attempts to thrash out but her limbs are full of lead. She is no longer her own person. The owner of this vessel is him.
"You'll like it eventually," he pants. That's what he always says right before he destroys her soul and rips her to shreds, leaving her raw and traumatized.
"Stop!" Vivian pleads. Her hand twitches as she slides it under her pillow. "I don't want to do this."
"You're mine," he says with an animal-like growl. "Now shut up before I make you."
"I don't want to do this," she whispers and shuts her eyes. Her fingers brush against the hilt of the blade she had planted there before. It's light and reassuring in her palm, promising her a way to freedom. She tightens her grip though her arm shakes with uncertainty.
Nikolai continues to thrust into her unwilling body and tears apart her sanity. He leans down, letting his sweaty skin rub against hers, and drags his colossal tongue along the arch of her neck.
"No," she croaks. "No. No. No."
Suffering through this hell is no longer an option. Her soul has been terrorized for far too long. The heavens crack open and release a godly strength into her crippled frame. She removes the knife from under her pillow. "I can't do this anymore," she declares, voice quivering.
She imagines what the sensation will feel like for a moment before blindly jerking her hand and sending the knife flying towards Nikolai. The blade rips into his flesh with ease and the sound of him choking and gargling his own blood fills her ears.
