Dark Enchantment

16

Asher

Leaving Trent's lifeless body behind, I turned around only to find Elara standing there. I expected shock, horror, but instead, she merely tilted her head, her brows furrowed as she took in the gruesome scene.

"This is what happens to anyone who touches what belongs to me," I told her, my voice filled with coldness.

Elara’s eyes met mine, her voice steady as she retorted, "I belong to no one, Asher. I'm not an object."

"Is that what you think?" I asked her, my voice dangerously low.

"No, it's what I know," she fired back, her defiance sparking a dark desire within me.

In a swift move, I gripped her arm, pushing her back against the wall. My hand encircled her throat while the other ripped away the blanket she was holding around herself.

"You are mine, Elara," I growled, my eyes boring into hers. But she shook her head in denial. My chest rose and fell with deep, ragged breaths as I rose to her challenge.

My free hand moved up to twist her n****e. "Mine," I repeated. Again, she shook her head. My hand travelled lower, settling between her legs. "This, this is mine too," I said, my voice a harsh whisper. But as she attempted to shake her head again, I curled my fingers inside her, claiming her in the most intimate way possible.

As a moan attempted to escape her lips, I quickly moved my hand from her throat, covering her mouth instead. Her breaths grew ragged as my fingers continued their relentless assault. But then, I withdrew them, freeing my c**k from the constraints of my pants.

"Kneel," I commanded, my voice echoing through the chapel. Keeping her eyes locked on mine, Elara sank to her knees. As I tangled my hand in her messy red hair, I lined myself up at her mouth.

"Don't bite," I warned, my voice laced with a dangerous edge. With that, I pushed myself into her mouth. She began to suck slowly, then steadily picked up the pace, her eyes never leaving mine.

This was about power, about control, and I intended to remind Elara who was in charge.

This girl was insatiable, her desire mirroring my own. Her eyes begged for more, her body trembling with unsatisfied need. But as much as I wanted to give in, to satisfy her in every way, I knew I couldn't.

This wasn't about pleasure, it was about power. It was about reminding Elara who was in control. And as satisfying as it was to see her yearning for me, leaving her unsatisfied would serve as a harsh reminder of our power dynamic.

As I reached my peak and blew, I let out a low growl, my grip tightening in her hair as I held her face flush against me. But as soon as the waves of pleasure subsided, I pulled away, leaving Elara on her knees.

"Enough," I rasped, my voice hoarse. Her eyes widened, a hint of surprise flickering in her gaze. But I didn't give her a chance to respond. So, I quickly fixed my clothes, my gaze never leaving hers.

"I hope you've learned your lesson, Elara," I said, my voice cold. With that, I turned and walked back to my car leaving her alone with her unsatisfied desire and a clear reminder of who was in control.

Elara

Fury coursed through me as Asher left the chapel. I was not a toy. Nor was I an object to be used and discarded. Asher had made his point, but so would I.

I made my way back to the room the Brotherhood had given me after the sacrifice. As me eyes skipped over the sparse wardrobe, a cold shiver ran through me as my hand landed on a familiar purple top. It was the one the woman was wearing on the day I was kidnapped, the woman who was sacrificed right beside me. I didn't want to wear it, but it was the only one in my size.

Cringing, I slipped the purple top on, pairing it with a pair of jeans. My hair was then quickly thrown up into a messy bun. First on my to-do list: new clothes.

Once ready, I made my way to the garage, sliding into the driver's seat of one of the cars. I was looking for the keys when Andre suddenly climbed into the passenger seat.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his tone cautious.

I hesitated, unsure of how much I should reveal. He was then only one of the brothers that hadn't touched me, but that sure as hell didn’t mean i could trust him. "I need to leave," I finally said, my voice steady.

His eyebrows furrowed. "And why should I help you?"

"If I don't show up for at least one class, my father will know something's up," I lied, hoping he would buy it.

Andre seemed to ponder this for a moment, before finally handing me the keys. Little did he know, my reason for returning to school was not the fear of my father finding out I'd been MIA, but a plan that would get the attention of Asher and his Brotherhood.

As we pulled up outside the school, I removed the keys from the ignition, tossing them to Andre. "Thanks for the ride," I said, not bothering to wait for his response. He called out for me to wait, but I ignored him, heading straight for the dorm building.

Returning to my room felt oddly surreal. All my belongings were just as I left them, untouched. But I was not the same. I grabbed a fresh set of clothes and headed for the shower room.

Yes, I could have showered at the chapel, but it wouldn't have been the same. This was familiar, and oddly comforting. It was a stark contrast to the world I had been thrust into, a reminder of the life I used to lead before Asher and his brothers forced me to become - this.

As the warm water washed over me, I felt a sense of calm settle in. I was back in control, back in my world. And I planned on using it to my advantage. Asher had made his move, and now it was my turn.

Just as I was about to get dressed, a hand grabbed my hair, yanking me backwards. I fell to the cold floor with a thud, the sound of laughter echoing in my ears. I didn't need to see their faces to know who they were - Barbies friends.

"Thought we got rid of you," one sneered, her voice dripping with malice.

"Did Asher finally get sick of you?" another chimed in, her laughter grating on my nerves.

"You're one ugly b***h," a third one spat, her words intended to wound.

But all I did was laugh. Their words didn't faze me anymore. I had dealt with far worse than their petty insults. One of the girls gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at her. "What's so funny?" she growled, her face twisted in a scowl.

Before I could respond, her hand connected with my cheek in a harsh backhand. The impact stung, but I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. I had a plan, and these bullies had not a part of it. But now that, was going to change.

As blood trickled from my lip, I felt the familiar cold embrace of my darkness. But this time, instead of rejecting it, I welcomed it. As I embraced it, my senses heightened, my eyesight sharpening unnaturally. And as the coldness travelled down my arms, black veins started to appear, the consequenting mark of my dark magic.

The girls froze as they saw the transformation, their eyes widening in terror. Good, they should be afraid.

With a swift movement, I waved my hand, and one of the girls was lifted off her feet, her body slamming into the locker with a sickening crunch. The other girls screamed as her body lay in a crippled mess. But I didn't stop there. With another flick of my wrist, the second girl was thrown against the tiled wall, her head hitting the tiles with a thud. Pushing myself off the ground I walked towards her, I gripped her hair and smashed it off the wall until she was no longer recognisable.

The girl who had slapped me was the only one left. She tried to run, but I was quicker. Using my magic, I held the locker room door shut, trapping her inside.

She screamed, her voice echoing in the room. I merely screamed with her before breaking out in laughter, my voice merging with hers in a chilling symphony. "What's wrong?" I mocked, my voice eerily calm amidst her panic. "Didn't think I could fight back?"

The fear in her eyes was satisfying, but it was just the beginning. She had no idea what I was truly capable of.

The girl begged for her life, her voice choked with tears. "I'm sorry, Elara," she pleaded. But I rejected her apology.

"You're just a f*****g freak!" she spat back, her fear giving way to anger.

In response, I pushed her back against the wall, our faces so close our noses touched. "And you're a bully," I retorted, my voice a dangerous whisper.

I knew about her scars, the result of a fire when she was younger, hidden beneath her clothes. A secret that would be her undoing. She had called me ugly, and now it was time to reveal her own ugliness. "Undress," I ordered.

"No!" she cried, but I was having none of it.

With a flick of my wrist, the buttons of her cardigan popped off. "There, I've helped you. Now undress," I demanded.

With a whimper, she finally complied, her hands shaking as she removed her clothes. As she stood there, exposed and vulnerable, I told her, "You're the ugly one, look at you."

Leaning in, I kissed her, a cruel mockery of affection. As I pulled away, I said, "I had hoped your kiss would make up for your ugliness. But I guess I was wrong. It seems your ugly inside and out."

The girl began to cry, her sobs echoing in the locker room. With another flick of my wrist, I sent her flying across the room. And with a click of my fingers, the girl erupted into flames, her screams filling the room. It was a brutal end, but she had brought it upon herself.