His Witchy Mate

Lucian’s coldness still hurt, the force with which he had thrown me into this hole, as if I were nothing more than a mere object. But it wasn’t just Rein’s actions that haunted me – it was the man behind those actions, the man who had once held a special place in my heart.

I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wander back to our first meeting, to the intense romance that had blossomed between us despite the odds. How naive I had been, believing in the power of love to conquer all obstacles. The memories of his warm smiles, his gentle touch, they were now like faded photographs in the recesses of my mind.

But then reality crashed back over me – the Lucian I knew was gone, replaced by a stranger whose cruelty cut deeper than any knife. How could he have set me up, brought me back here to this painful place? The wounds he had inflicted on me were more than just physical – they were emotional scars that still bled fresh with every reminder of his betrayal.

As I sat in that cold, damp cell, I couldn’t help but think about how different things could have been. What had turned him into this monster? Was it something I had done, something I had failed to do? The questions swirled in my mind like a tempest, tearing at my sanity.

The past became one with the present, and I remembered the last time I had been in this dungeon. The memories were fresh, the pain was still stinging. Back then, Lucian had been my savior, the one who had pulled me out of this darkness. But now, he was the one who had pushed me back in.

The sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor pulled me from my trance, and I braced myself for whatever was to come. I wondered if he would come to celebrate, to taunt me with his power.

But as the footsteps grew closer, my heart clenched with both fear and hope. Could it be him? The man I once loved, the one I now despised?

The cell door creaked open, and a faint sliver of light pierced through the darkness. My eyes adjusted, and I found myself face to face with a maid holding a tray of food. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since morning.

I took the food gratefully. The simple act of food providing a small measure of comfort in this nightmare.

As I ate, I couldn’t shake the thoughts that haunted me. The memories of our love, the pain of his betrayal – they were a tangled mess, impossible to unravel. And as the darkness of the dungeon embraced me once more, I knew that the path ahead would be dangerous and uncertain. But I was determined to find answers, to understand the man Lucian had become, even if it meant facing the demons of our shared past.

In this suffocating darkness, the memories of my past imprisonment came flooding back, mixing with the harsh reality of my current situation. I had survived that year, and I would survive this as well, I told myself. But the wounds of the past had been ripped open anew, and the pain was as fresh as ever.

Hatred for Lucian grew within me, growing stronger with each passing day. The bitterness I felt towards him was like poisonous acid, eating away at any traces of affection or longing I once had for him. The memories of tearful nights in the dungeon, crying for a face that never came, were etched into my mind. He had left me there, alone and broken, and I had vowed to myself that I would never allow him to hurt me again.

Yet, as much as I wanted to bury my feelings, his unexpected appearance that morning had shattered my defenses. The wounds he had inflicted upon me, both physically and emotionally, were reopened, and the flood of emotions I had locked away surged back to the surface.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I paced the length of the dungeon. Each step was fueled by my anger, my frustration, my helplessness. The very thought of my mother’s involvement in my predicament further fueled my rage. She, like Lucian, had betrayed me in ways I could never have imagined. The disgust I felt towards them both was overwhelming.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

My stomach’s protest against its emptiness echoed through the dungeon, making me painfully aware of my physical needs. I grimaced, remembering the dismal state of the dungeon’s food from my previous experience. The taste, the texture, the smell – they were all enough to induce nausea. I had endured it then, and I would endure it now, but the mere thought of that food made my stomach churn.

I couldn’t help but groan as nauseating memories flooded in. The grim reality of my situation was unavoidable. I stumbled towards the eastern corner of the dungeon, my hand pressed against my queasy stomach. And then it happened – I doubled over, my stomach heaving as I wretched and vomited. It was a relief, in a twisted way, to expel the emptiness and bitterness that had taken residence within me.

As I straightened up, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, I realized that this was my new reality. A reality tainted by resentment, pain, and an overwhelming desire to escape both the physical and emotional confines that held me captive. In the shadows of darkness, both within the dungeon and within my own heart, I knew that the journey ahead would be tough. But I was determined to endure, to claw my way back to some semblance of freedom, and to confront the monsters that had taken up residence in my life.

My stomach continued its relentless protests, as if it was mocking me for being in this disgusting place.

I let out a heavy sigh and lowered myself to the cold floor, feeling its chilling touch seep into my bones.