Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

H elheim

Aria

His fingers dug into my arms, his grip firm but somehow still gentle, and a shiver ran down my spine. He was a monster, pure and simple, and I had no doubt he would make good on his threats. I don't know why I continued to provoke him, but I couldn't give in so easily.

It would take more than a spanking and a hard face fucking to break me. I'd show him.

He turned me, the action rough and abrupt, and his hands landed on my shoulders, pushing me toward the door.

I tried to shrug him off, but he didn't relent. His grip tightened, a silent warning that struggling was as useless as wings on a flightless bird.

"Move," he commanded, his voice like a blade slicing through the air.

I stumbled forward, my heart pounding in my chest as he guided me through the castle's winding corridors. The walls were decorated with grotesque tapestries depicting scenes of torment and suffering, the colors muted and dark. Shadowy figures seemed to writhe within the fabric, their twisted forms a haunting reminder that I was no longer home.

Torches lined the walls, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows that danced and twisted like tree branches in the wind. The floor beneath my feet was cold, polished stone, reflecting the dim light of the candlelit chandeliers overhead. I could feel the evil seeping from every corner, from every crevice of this place.

It was terrifying.

We passed through a grand hall where massive pillars rose to the ceiling, each one carved with the likeness of screaming faces, their eyes hollow and empty. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense and something far more sinister, a metallic tang that made my stomach churn, something like blood.

Finally, we reached a pair of heavy, ornate doors. The Dark King pushed them open, revealing his massive royal bedroom beyond. It was a cavernous space, dominated by a huge bed draped in black silk. The bedposts were twisted, like horns, and a large crimson rug lay at the center.

The room was lit by a single enormous chandelier made of black iron, its flickering candles casting a dim, almost suffocating glow upon the room. The shadows here were deeper, more menacing, as if they held secrets too terrible to reveal.

"No," I breathed, panic rising in my chest. I tried to pull away, but his grip was unbreakable.

He pushed me toward the bed, his eyes cold and unyielding. "You'll stay here," he said, his voice a dark promise.

I turned to face him, my defiance flaring despite my fear.

"I won't be your captive," I spat, my voice trembling with rage.

His gaze hardened, and he took a step closer, towering over me.

"You already are," he said, his tone icy. "And if you try to defy me, you will find that my patience is not infinite. Your punishment in the throne room will feel like child's play compared to what will be in store for you then."

I met his gaze, my heart pounding.

"I'll find a way to escape," I vowed, my voice shaking but determined. "You can't keep me here forever."

A cruel smile twisted his lips.

"You can try," he said softly, his fingers brushing my cheek. "But know this: every attempt will only bring you more pain."

I slapped his hand away, my eyes blazing with anger. "I don't care what you do to me," I said, my voice rising. "I'll never give in."

His smile faded, replaced by a look of cold determination. "Then you will suffer," he said in a chilling whisper. "But eventually, you will break."

I simply glared in his direction. I knew better than to act on it now. I had to bide my time, to wait for the right moment. Fighting him here, in his domain, would be suicide.

But I would find my chance.

I had to.

"Who am I?" he demanded.

I knew what he wanted to hear, and I refused, instead saying nothing at all and turning away. Without warning, he pushed me to the bed, reached for my wrist and before I knew what was happening, he'd clapped an iron cuff around it.

I tugged at it, but the cuff held fast, connected to a chain embedded deep into the stone floor. Panic surged through me as I realized the full extent of my helplessness. I yanked at the chain again, my wrist burning with the effort, but it was useless. The Dark King's eyes bore into mine, a mix of triumph and indifference gleaming within those inscrutable violet depths.

"This will keep you from making any foolish attempts to escape," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You will remain here until I decide what to do with you."

With that, he turned and walked to the door, leaving me alone in the darkness of his room. As the door closed behind him, I felt the full weight of what had happened settle over me. I was trapped in a place of nightmares, under the control of a man who was more monster than human.

But I wouldn't give up. I wouldn't let him break me. I would find a way to escape, to fight back. And when I did, he would see that I was not just a pawn in his game.

I was a force to be reckoned with.

I slept like the dead.

I opened my eyes to see the Dark King in bed next to me and I started, but then froze hoping I didn't wake him. For a long moment, I just watched the light play across his chiseled features, how the glow of the moon caressed his high cheekbones and lit them in shadow, how his dark lashes were stark against his pale skin, how his lips were the perfect shade of pink. I studied everything, knowing that I'd likely never get such a chance again.

He looked almost serene in his sleep. His raven-black hair spilled across the pillow, framing his face in a way that made him appear almost vulnerable. The steady rise and fall of his chest were hypnotic to watch, and for a moment, I found myself captivated by the rhythm, wondering who this man was beneath the monster that was the Dark King.

If there even was a man beneath the monster…

His brows, usually furrowed in menace, were relaxed, giving him an almost peaceful expression. The harsh lines that defined his face in wakefulness softened, and I could see a flicker of humanity, a trace of something almost gentle. It was as if, in sleep, the darkness that consumed him had momentarily released its grip and I found myself consumed by that.

Suddenly, his eyes opened, glittering violet staring directly into mine. I froze, my breath caught in my throat. For an instant, I saw something in those eyes—a glimmer of humanity maybe, or even perhaps a hint of vulnerability that made my heart skip a beat.

It was as if, for that brief moment, he was not a ruthless monster, but just a simple man right here next to me in his bed.

But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the same unyielding iciness he had shown yesterday. His expression hardened, and that single moment vanished like a wisp of smoke in the wind. I looked away, my fear rolling back in like a cloud of smoke.

"You're awake," he said, his voice low and devoid of all softness. "Did you sleep well?"

I gulped, forcing myself to meet his gaze once again.

"Yes," I replied in barely above a whisper.

"Good," he said finally, his tone dismissive. "You will need your strength for what lies ahead."

He studied me for a moment, his eyes searching mine, as if looking for something hidden deep within. For a long while, he said nothing at all and I held my breath.

Without another word, he pushed himself up out of the bed and padded across the room. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of black briefs, so I got my first real good look at the king's regal physique.

It was beautiful.

His back was broad and strong, tapering down to a narrow waist and a sculpted, round backside. As he moved, the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexed, rippling beneath his pale skin. His legs were long, muscular, and thick like tree trunks. There were even the faintest of scars that marred the otherwise flawless skin on his back, but that only seemed to add to his otherworldly air.

His chest was firm and well defined, with a hint of dark hair that trailed down his flat, chiseled abdomen to what I now knew lay beneath the fabric of his underwear.

I swallowed hard, remembering what it felt like when his cock hit the back of my throat, how I'd both hated it and loved it at the same time. I shook my head and pushed the thoughts away as quickly as I could.

I couldn't let myself get distracted, not when this man was my enemy.

He turned slightly, catching me staring, and a smirk played at the corner of his lips.

"See something you like, little thief?" he asked, his voice a low, teasing rumble.

"Just sizing up my enemy," I retorted, and he chuckled, which only made me clench my fists with defiance as anger flared deep in my belly.

"Oh? And what will you do when you figure me out?" he asked, cocking his head with interest. He moved closer to me, leaning over me as if to intimidate me.

"I'm going to kill you," I snarled, and he laughed a little bit more openly now.

I was still wearing my boots.

In a flash, I slipped my hand down to my ankle and pulled out the knife hidden there. I pressed the blade up against his throat and instead of panicking, his expression remained calm, almost amused, and he lifted a single brow as if daring me to go through with it.

I stilled.

I should kill him right now. Kill him and be done with this whole mess. It would be so easy, just one quick movement, and this would all be over. But something stayed my hand.

Why couldn't I do it? Why couldn't I finish what I'd started?

My mind raced, searching for the answer. Was it fear? Fear of what might happen if I failed, or fear of the unknown that would follow if I succeeded? But deep down, I knew it wasn't fear that held me back. It was something else, something far more complicated, something I didn't want to think about any more than I had to.

I waited too long.

He reached up and grabbed my wrist, twisting it hard enough to make me drop the knife. With his other hand, he wrapped his fingers around the hilt and tossed the blade aside.

My chance to kill him in cold blood was long gone.

As he rolled off me, I lifted my chin as haughtily as I could and gritted my teeth. My one free hand pulled the sheets up, covering my nakedness as much as I could. When he saw me, he smirked even wider, clearly amused by my bashfulness after everything that had already happened between us.

A knock at the door interrupted the tension brewing, and a servant entered, carrying a tray laden with food. The Dark King gestured for the tray to be placed on the table, and the servant quickly complied before bowing and exiting the room. He reached up and unlocked the cuff around my wrist and I quickly pulled it in close to my chest, cupping it and wiggling my fingers as I watched him warily.

He approached the table and began arranging the items with surprising care. I watched him, a bit suspicious, but I didn't say anything, not sure of what to do next. My stomach growled loudly enough to hear, and he gestured at me to come to him.

"Come. Eat," he said, his tone soft, almost gentle.

I hesitated, rubbing my wrist, but the aroma of the food was too tempting to resist. The tray was filled with an assortment of delicacies: fresh bread still steaming from the oven, slices of ripe fruit, cheese, and a bowl of porridge topped with honey and nuts. My stomach growled again, reminding me of how long it had been since I'd had a decent meal.

I was hungry, so very hungry. I needed to eat.

With a deep breath, I climbed out of bed, taking one of the blankets and wrapping it around my naked body. Now fully covered, I felt more confident and strode toward him. He watched me take every single step.

"Is it poisoned?" I hesitated.

"What would be the sense in that?" he said, cocking his head. Finally, the fresh aroma of the food was too much. I couldn't bear it any longer.

I sat down at the opposite end of the table and picked up a piece of toasted bread, tearing off a small bite. The Dark King watched me, his expression unreadable.

"What do you want from me?" I asked between bites, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"I want your name."

His eyes held mine, intense and unwavering, and I lifted my chin, glaring back at him. I felt wary of his request, so I didn't give my name, instead answering with a question of my own.

"Why is it so important to you?" I asked.

He leaned in closer, his gaze piercing.

"Call it curiosity," he smirked.

"Then why do you think I'd give it to you freely?" I replied pointedly.

The tension between us crackled like a live wire. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating even, and yet there was an undeniable sense of heat between us that I couldn't ignore.

Almost as if he could sense it too, he took several steps toward me and I held my breath, not moving as he moved in front of me. His gaze didn't waver, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as he leaned in toward me, his breath warm against my skin.

"Because you know, deep down, that you can't hide from me," he murmured in a dangerous whisper that tickled the tiny hairs along my sensitive flesh. "And because you want to know why you're so important to me."

For a moment, I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to know me, but then I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breathing. I wouldn't give in. Not like this. I was stronger than that.

My name was mine and I wouldn't give it to him so easily.

"You're delusional if you think I'll bend to your will just like that."

His lips curled into a slow, predatory smile. "We'll see about that."

I could feel my pulse quicken, my heart pounding in my chest. He was too close, his presence too consuming. I wanted to push him away, to break free from whatever this hold was that he had over me, but I couldn't deny the strange, conflicting emotions churning inside me.

Intrigue.

Curiosity.

Loathing.

Desire…

I gulped, unable to navigate between them, but his fingers grazed across the back of my shoulder, startling me, and instantly bringing me back from my tumultuous thoughts.

"You can try to resist," he said softly, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, "but eventually, you will give in. You will tell me your name."

My defiance wavered as I tightened my hold on the blanket surrounding my naked body.

"And if I don't?" I countered.

He straightened, his smile fading into a serious, almost dangerous expression. "Then I will make you."

I glared at him, refusing to back down. "You'll have to kill me first."

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. "I don't think it will come to that, little thief. I have many other ways to persuade you."

My thighs pressed together knowingly, and I felt a surge of anger at my traitorous body, my fear momentarily forgotten.

"You can't break me," I sputtered, annoyed at myself for getting aroused when I most definitely shouldn't.

His eyes flashed with something unreadable—anger, amusement, perhaps even admiration. "You have no idea what I'm capable of, little thief."

"And you have no idea what I'm capable of either," I retorted.

My chest rose and fell with my ire. I stood my ground, meeting his gaze with as much courage as I could muster. I gritted my teeth as he rose to his feet and left the room, leaving me alone.

I shuddered, feeling cold and empty now that his presence was no longer with me, and I didn't dare think about what that might mean.

I got up and checked the door.

It was locked.

Whatever kind of game he was playing, I was going to win.

Sometime later, a knock at the door startled me. I could hear the lock disengaging and I turned to see a group of servants enter the room. They carried with them large buckets of steaming water, which they poured into a big copper tub in the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. The smell of lavender and other fragrant herbs filled the air, luxury of the kind I'd never seen before in my life.

A young woman with bright blue eyes and chestnut hair pulled back in a loose braid stepped forward with a soft smile. She approached me cautiously, offering a small, respectful bow.

"My lady," she said softly, soothingly. "I'm Liora. I'm here to help you get ready for your bath."

"I can bathe myself," I shot back, and she flinched.

"But, my lady, it is the king's command," she replied quietly, fidgeting with the hem of the apron over top of her dress. I sighed. The Dark King would likely punish her in some form if she didn't follow his orders and I didn't want that on my conscience, so I nodded and went along with it.

"Thank you, Liora. I would love a bath," I said softly.

She guided me to the bathroom, where the tub now stood filled with steaming water. The scent of lavender was stronger here, mixed with hints of chamomile and rose. She helped me undress, taking the blanket from around my body, and I couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief in her presence.

Maybe, just maybe she could be something of a friend for me here in this strange dark world.

As I stepped into the tub, the warm water enveloped me, soothing my tense muscles and washing away the grime from the past days. I sank deeper into the bath, allowing myself to relax for the first time since my capture. Liora handed me a soft cloth and a bar of fragrant soap, then stepped back to give me some privacy.

The warmth of the water seeped into my bones, easing the cold that had settled there since my arrival in Helheim. I closed my eyes, letting the scents and sensations lull me into a rare moment of peace.

"Is there anything else you need, my lady?" Liora's voice broke through my reverie, gentle and unobtrusive.

I opened my eyes and shook my head. "No, thank you. This is… wonderful."

Liora smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I'm glad. The king… he can be difficult, but he means well, in his own way."

I frowned, her words stirring a mixture of emotions. "You speak as if you know him well."

She hesitated, then nodded. "I've been here a long time. I've seen many sides of him. He is not an easy man to understand."

I sighed, sinking further into the water. "He's a monster."

She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped herself.

"What were you going to say?" I pressed.

"Perhaps he is a monster, as you say he is. But even monsters have their reasons."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing at all. Instead, I sank lower in the bath, enjoying the heat and the warmth and the scent of the fragrant water. Taking the bar of soap and the wet cloth, I started washing my body, starting with my arms, then my legs, and then the rest of me.

Liora stayed in the corner of the room, and my gaze kept flitting to hers.

"You said you've been here a long time?" I asked.

"Yes, my lady," she replied, her wide blue eyes meeting mine.

"Please. Call me Aria," I offered. It was easy to offer her my name, unlike the king. She wasn't the one playing games with me.

Liora gave me a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Aria."

I studied her for a moment, curiosity getting the better of me. I could see the lump in her throat bob up and down. She was nervous and I needed to figure out a way to make that better.

"Will you tell me about Helheim? I'm not from here. I'm from Sungard. What is this place?" I asked, trying to put her at ease.

"Helheim is a place where lost souls are ferried to the underworld. The Dark King is their guardian, ensuring they reach their final destination. He takes his role here very seriously."

"And how long has he been doing this?" I asked, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot of dirt on my arm.

"For more than a thousand years," Liora replied. "He has always been here, alone, carrying out his duties. The stories say he has never had another, at least not in a very long time."

My brow furrowed. "Never?"

She shook her head. "No. The Dark King is a solitary figure. He rules over this realm with an iron fist, but he is isolated, cut off from the rest of the world."

I leaned back, letting the warm water soothe my tired muscles. "Why? Why would he choose to be alone like that?"

Liora hesitated, then leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"There are rumors," she began, her eyes flicking to the door as if afraid someone might overhear. "They say that he was betrayed by a past love. She was the only one he ever cared for, but she turned against him. Because of her betrayal, he was sent into Helheim ages ago, and he's been alone ever since."

I felt a chill run down my spine, despite the warmth of the bath. "What happened to her?"

Liora shook her head. "No one knows for certain. Some say she was banished to another realm, others say she was executed, others say that she simply disappeared. But whatever the truth is, her betrayal left him scarred, both physically and emotionally."

I absorbed this information, my mind racing. The Dark King, a being of such power and cruelty, had once been capable of love? The thought was almost impossible to reconcile with the image I had of him. And yet, it explained the coldness, the isolation. It explained why he was the way he was.

"Do you believe it?" I asked softly, looking at Liora. "Do you believe he was betrayed?"

She sighed, her eyes sad. "I don't know, Aria. But I do know that he carries a great burden. He has been alone for a long time, and that kind of solitude can change a person."

I nodded and wrapped my arms around my knees, losing myself in my thoughts for a little while. I sank deeper into the water, letting the warmth envelop me. The Dark King's story, his past, and his solitude swirled in my mind. There was more to him than meets the eye.

Maybe he was more than a monster after all.

But understanding him didn't mean I would give in to him. If anything, it made me more determined to find a way to escape. I would bide my time, gather my strength, and when the moment was right, I would fight with everything I had.

For now, I would play along. But I would never forget who I was. I would find a way to defy the king, no matter the cost.

After the bath, I dressed in the clean clothes Liora had provided—a simple but comfortable dress of soft, dark violet fabric. I felt somewhat restored, the warmth of the bath still lingering in my bones. My thoughts, however, were far from settled.

I was thankful he hadn't left me chained to the bed, thankful that I had a hot bath and a warm meal filling my belly, but at what cost?

Out of nowhere, my core thrummed with pleasure, and I gulped down a breath of air, shaking myself as if it would wake me up and stop whatever my body was doing without my permission.

I needed to keep a level head. First things first; I needed to know the ins and outs of this room, figure out if there was any way out other than the locked door, or some secret passage. Something, anything that might help me escape.

As I wandered around, I noticed details I hadn't seen before. The furniture, though richly carved, held a stark, utilitarian feel. The bed was large and imposing, draped in dark silks, and the wardrobe stood tall, its doors slightly ajar. I approached it and peeked inside, finding several fine garments, all in muted tones of black and deep purple.

The dresser next to it held an ornate mirror, its surface slightly tarnished. I stared back at my reflection for a moment, noticing my cheeks were pinker and my skin looked less sallow before I turned away, not wanting to see anything more.

On the walls, intricate tapestries depicted scenes of battles and dark rituals, their colors faded with age. A heavy velvet curtain covered a tall window, blocking out what little light might have seeped into this dark place.

I pulled it aside and looked out, seeing the bleak, shadowed landscape of Helheim stretching out below me. Jagged mountains and dark forests loomed in the distance, shrouded in perpetual twilight. Lightning struck the mountain peaks, again and again, in a glorious show of light. It was all hauntingly surreal.

This wasn't my home. This was a dark, evil place.

I turned back to the room, continuing my exploration. A large, commanding desk sat against one wall, covered in ancient journals and scrolls. I couldn't read the strange, swirling script on them, but I could feel the power emanating from the pages. As I ran my fingers over the smooth surface of the desk, I sighed. There was nothing I could find that would lend itself to an escape, no secret passage, nothing.

I was trapped.

Someone cleared their throat behind me.

I spun around, my heart pounding, and let out a shrill scream of surprise. Standing in the doorway was a mystical being, her white hair shimmering in the dim glow, her dark eyes black and void of any light but somehow holding a knowing glint. Clad in flowing, shadowy robes that whispered against the floor, she moved with an eerie grace, almost as if she were a goddess or some sort of mythical creature.

Who was this woman and why was she here?

" Calm yourself, child ," she said, her voice a soothing murmur that belied the gravity of her presence.

I took a step back, my breath coming in shallow gasps. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

She smiled, a faint, enigmatic curve of her lips.

" I am the seer. I come bearing a warning and a message ."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to steady my racing heart as I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "What warning?"

" So curious, this one ," she mused to herself, and I thought it wise to not respond.

She moved closer, her eyes never leaving mine. " Since you requested the warning first, I shall give it to you. Beware the path you tread, Aria. The choices you make will shape your fate and the fate of those around you ."

I stared at her, trying to keep a level head.

"And the message?" I asked.

Her gaze intensified, and she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper.

" The Dark King's heart is not as cold as it seems. There is a spark within him, a spark that could either save or destroy the world and everything as you know it. And you, my dear, hold the key to that spark ."

I shook my head, confusion and fear warring within me.

"I don't understand. Why me?"

The seer straightened, her expression softening. " Because you are more than you realize, Aria Nightingale. You have a power within you to save the world, a light that can pierce through the darkness. But be cautious. The darkness will fight back ."

She turned to leave, but I reached out, desperation clawing at me. "Wait! What am I supposed to do?"

The seer paused at the door, looking back at me with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

" Follow your heart, trust your instincts, and remember that even in the darkest places, there is always a glimmer of hope, maybe even love. "

With that, she vanished into the shadows, leaving me alone in the room once more. I sank onto the edge of the bed, her words echoing in my mind. I opened and closed my mouth, trying to understand and process what she told me. It felt like my brain was trying to slog through mud and I pressed my hand to my face.

What was I going to do?

Determined to regain some semblance of control, I stood up and resumed exploring the room. As I moved about, my mind raced with thoughts of escape and rebellion.

Lost in thought, I didn't hear the door open until it was too late. When I turned around, I stiffened.

Seven hells.

It was the Dark King.