Chapter Four: The Taste of Defiance
1075 Words
The scent of iron clung to the air, thick and suffocating. It filled my lungs, settled on my tongue like a sickness I couldn’t swallow. The vial in Damien’s hand gleamed under the dim torchlight, the liquid inside swirling like liquid night.
A binding potion. A curse in a bottle.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew what it would do. Once consumed, it would tie my will to his—strip me of my choices, my freedom, my very sense of self. I would no longer be Celeste, daughter of House Valeria. I would be his.
The thought sent a shiver of revulsion through me.
His grip around my throat wasn’t tight, but it was enough to hold me still. Enough to remind me that I had no escape. His thumb brushed against my pulse, slow, measured, as if counting my heartbeats.
“Drink,” he ordered.
I didn’t.
His expression remained unreadable, but his fingers flexed slightly against my skin. A silent warning. “Celeste.”
I held his gaze, my chin lifting in defiance. “You’ll have to force it down my throat.”
Something flickered in his eyes—irritation, amusement, something deeper I couldn’t quite name. “Don’t tempt me,” he murmured.
He was close now. Too close. Close enough that I could see the shadows of exhaustion beneath his cold, golden eyes. Close enough that the heat of him pressed against the chill of my skin.
I hated that I noticed.
I hated that my body remembered what it was like to stand beside him, once upon a time, when his touch had been something else entirely.
But that was before.
Before he betrayed me. Before he slaughtered my people. Before he dragged me into this cage of shadows and chains.
My jaw tightened. “What do you want from me, Damien?”
“You know what I want.”
I laughed, hollow and bitter. “Control?”
His fingers twitched. Not in anger. Something else. Hesitation? Guilt? It didn’t matter. I seized the moment, driving my voice deeper, cutting like the edge of a blade.
“You already won,” I spat. “You took my city, my people, my home. Is that not enough?”
A muscle in his jaw tightened. “No.”
The word was quiet, but it carried weight.
A different kind of fear coiled in my stomach.
“What more could you possibly take from me?”
Damien exhaled, slow and measured. “You.”
The word sent ice through my veins.
I wrenched against the chains, fury rising like a storm. “You will never have me.”
“You say that now.”
My nails dug into my palms. “You can bind my body, but you will never own my soul.”
He tilted his head, studying me as if I were a puzzle he had yet to solve. “We’ll see.”
The vial hovered near my lips.
I clenched my teeth, refusing to part them.
His gaze darkened. “You think I won’t do it?”
I did. I knew he would.
But I would fight him every step of the way.
Damien sighed, the sound almost regretful. Then, without another word, he pinched my nose shut.
Panic shot through me as my breath stalled. My lungs burned, demanding air, but I refused to give in. The pressure built, my vision blurring at the edges. I dug my nails into my palms, willing myself to hold on.
I wouldn’t break.
I couldn’t—
My body betrayed me.
Instinct took over. My lips parted, desperate for air—
And Damien struck.
The liquid poured into my mouth, bitter and thick, tasting of rust and something darker, something ancient. I choked, the potion coating my tongue, slithering down my throat like a living thing.
No.
I twisted, coughed, fought to spit it out—
But it was too late.
The magic burned, spreading through my veins like fire and ice, like chains tightening around my very soul. My limbs trembled, the world spinning. My breath came ragged, sharp, as my heartbeat pounded in my ears.
I gasped, my body convulsing against the restraints. The sensation was unbearable—a force gripping me from the inside, molding me, reshaping me. My mind screamed against it, pushing, clawing, resisting—
And then it stopped.
The magic settled, humming beneath my skin.
I slumped forward, panting, my entire body drenched in sweat.
Damien caught my chin, tilting my face up. “There,” he murmured. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I wanted to rip him apart.
My body was weak, but my mind—my soul—was still my own. I could feel the magic’s presence, like a foreign thing slithering inside me, but it hadn’t taken me completely.
Not yet.
I forced a smirk, though my lips felt like lead. “You think a potion will make me yours?”
His thumb brushed against my lower lip, smearing the remnants of the potion. “I think it’s a start.”
My stomach twisted with nausea. “You disgust me.”
His smile was small, almost sad. “I know.”
Then why do it?
The question burned on my tongue, but I swallowed it down. It didn’t matter. Whatever his reasons, they wouldn’t change what he had done.
What he had become.
Damien released me, stepping back. “You should rest.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Rest?”
“You’ll need your strength.”
I narrowed my eyes. “For what?”
A shadow passed over his face.
“You’ll see.”
Then he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the silence.
The door slammed shut behind him.
And I was alone again.
The torch flickered, casting shadows across the stone. The chains around my wrists remained unyielding, a cruel reminder of my reality.
But I wasn’t broken.
Not yet.
I inhaled slowly, feeling the magic pulse inside me.
He thought he had won.
He thought he had bound me to him.
But magic was a fickle thing.
And so was I.
I curled my fingers into fists, my nails biting into my palms.
Damien had taken everything from me.
But I would take something from him too.
His power.
His control.
His throne.
I let out a slow, measured breath, my lips curling into a whisper of a smile.
Let the game begin.
- Writer
