The Captor Of Enchantress
"The fire we circled didn't bless us-it cursed us. And I will make sure you burn in it first."
- Dhani Varhan
Forever - such a deceptive word; how can a mortal ever offer eternity.?
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Dhani was the first thing he ever wanted that could not be bought, threatened, or destroyed without consequence. Unfortunately, he had spent his entire life knowing only three ways to get what he wanted.
He can't have her? Fine. He cages her instead.
"You're my Emberpetal," he said softly, like the truth itself had weight. "An exotic bloom... too rare for ruthless eyes."
My stomach twisted. I hated the way his words sank into me.
"My garden turned to ash long ago," he continued, thumb pressing gently at my nape, a touch that anchored me whether I wanted it or not. "But I'll let you thrive here. Bloom wild. I'll prune your thorns, feed your fire with my own veins."
His blood cooled against my skin, but the essence of it burned.
"I'll bind you to me," he finished, voice low, unshaking. "Alive.....Ablaze. And utterly mine."
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑰𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆. 𝑯𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕.
She was a florist who spoke the language of flowers, never knowing that one black orchid would become the first omen of her undoing. To him, Dhani was rarer than anything he had ever possessed, a forbidden bloom too beautiful to be left in another garden. Where can anyone pluck her .
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He claimed the enchantress by force, blind to the ancient truth: when you cage a goddess, you unknowingly volunteer to be the first sacrifice at her altar.