Under Her Mercy

Lingering of the Past

Warning :*Chapter contains mentions of / flashbacks of rape/sexual assault *

Saranya

I always had anger issues. Well, I still have. When mother was alive, I remember, she had been the only one who could tame me. She had hardly ever scolded me. Most of the time, when I used to be busy keeping everyone on their toes by my temper tantrums and flare ups, she used to be the only one to keep me on line.

When I used to feel angry or frustrated, she used to hold me close to her bosom and tell me that I was destined to be someone very powerful. I shouldn't get bothered by such silly issues.

Those times, I had never taken her words seriously. I used to think her words as mere bafflings, to calm me down. But now, as I look back, it often occurs to me that she knew all of the things, all along.

Maybe she always knew that prophecy was for me.

But she was a completely different woman in front of others. When I was a little older, I used to follow her and Myra in those secretive meetings of her coven, despite her dismay. When she used to stand in front of the sisters and brothers of her coven, she used to transform into a drastically different person from the nurturing soft spoken mother of mine.

Cold and ruthless would be understatements to describe her. Once, I had seen her drain life from one of her sisters in front of my eyes. That woman had betrayed her coven for some reason. Betrayal has always been the worst crime a witch could commit. And punishment of betrayal had always been the death sentence.

She hadn't even flinched for once when the lifeless body of the witch fell on the ground. Only when the sound of my soft sob reached her ear, she had turned around. I still remember her face. Her prominent cheekbones and collar bones. Her pitch black irises, burning with the fresh energy she had taken from the young witch.

Finding her daughter crying and hiding behind Myra in fear, for some seconds her face had softened up. But instead of reaching out for me she had just asked Myra to take me somewhere else . Even when Shaon's father had tried to reach out for me seeing me all sobbing, she had stopped him saying his presence in the court was more important.

Though later, it took her one complete week to break my anger. And when finally being satisfied with her apology, I asked her why she didn't reached out for me then and there, she just told me that it was necessary for me to know the hard and fair rules of the world I belonged to.

That time, to a twelve years old girl her method seemed very unnecessary and cruel. But later on that same method let me survive in this hard and cruel world.

Years later, when my own mate had captured me and left me to rot in the cellar of my own house, I used to hallucinate my mother. Or maybe her spirit was actually there.

Who knows!

When the barbed silver chains used to cut deep into my skin and I used to cry in pain and agony, she used to be there, beside me. She used to take my head on her lap and sing songs to calm me down, like she used to do when I was a kid. She just used to tell me not to lose my will power. And in all those three days of my capture, I had never seen her crying, even once.

The only time I saw tears in her eyes when Shaon had brought Farooq in the cellar and let him tear me down in front of his eyes. The shock was too much for me to endure. I had never thought Shaon would let anyone violate me in front of his own eyes. When Farooq forcefully entered me and I was begging desperately to Shaon to end all of these, only that time I hallucinated my mother crying.

And at that moment she or her hallucination had whispered to me only one word. Revenge.

And, unnecessary to mention that I took revenge, in every way possible.