Chapter 168 Burning Cacophony (5)

Chapter 168 Burning Cacophony (5)
E L E A N O R

My body froze in fear, a chilling dread creeping through my veins as he moved toward the bed. The air in the room grew heavy, thick with a silent and suffocating threat. I could feel the presence of his rage, a tangible weight that crushed me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper as I frantically scrabbled at the cuffs. The metal bit deeper into my wrists with every desperate twist. The bed frame creaked loudly with each of my movements, the sound jarring in the tense silence.

“I'm going to break you, Eleanor. So completely that you’ll have nothing left to say to your husband when he arrives. So thoroughly that you’ll hate yourself and wish you had never been born. The children you carry, they’ll grow ashamed of what you truly are. A whore. A slut.” His calloused fingers dug into my thighs, yanking me toward him with a brutal force that stole the air from my lungs. His words were a torrent of filth, designed to break my spirit, to destroy me from the inside out.

No… this can’t be happening. My mind screamed in denial, but my body was locked in terror, useless and trembling. I had to fight back, I had to do something.

"Let me go!” I screamed, my voice raw and cracking with desperation.

He dragged me closer until I was forced to look directly into his twisted, rage-filled face. "What’s wrong now? You didn’t hesitate to leave Tobias for Perseus. You adjusted just fine to Perseus’ cock—now you’re even carrying his babies.” Each word was a deliberate blow, meant to humiliate, to strip me of any dignity I had left. He was trying to tear me down, to make me feel worthless.

A cold sweat broke out across my skin. I was shaking uncontrollably, fully aware now of what he intended. He was going to rape me. The sheer cruelty of it made my stomach turn. How could anyone be so vile, so evil?

“I'm going to fuck you until you bleed. And then I’ll let him find you here so he can feel the same pain my mother felt, listening to his wretched mother moan my father’s name.” The malice in his voice was like ice against my spine. He was fueled by a generational hatred, a deep-seated desire for revenge that had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with my husband.

“That wasn’t Perseus’s fault,” I gasped, my mind scrambling. My fingers inched slowly toward the lamp on the bedside table, brushing against its cold metal base. “It was your father’s choice.”

His hand cracked across my cheek, whipping my head to the side. I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting blood as it welled up and spilled over. “Shut up,” he hissed, leaning in close. “Spread your legs. Don’t make me do it for you.”

“No,” I whispered, the word barely audible. “Please don’t… please…”

"Oh so now you can beg?"

His hand came down hard on my backside, the sharp sting forcing a choked cry from my throat. He tried to force my legs apart, but I fought under his grip.

He unbuckled his belt, the sound echoing in the small room as he forced my legs open. I struggled beneath him, trying to clamp my legs shut, but he forced them back open with brutal strength. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.

In that moment, something wild surged up inside me. Eira took control. My claws extended, and I lashed out, raking them across his face in one frantic, furious motion. He cursed violently as blood sprayed across my skin. It was a brief, desperate victory. I scrambled for the lock on the chain, fingers slipping in my panic.

George staggered back, heaving, his hands curling into fists. “Stupid whore!” he spat, grabbing a handful of my hair and wrenching so hard I thought my scalp would tear. Then his fist connected with my face—a crushing, dizzying blow that plunged me into momentary darkness.

I struggled to push myself up, spitting blood, but his belt was already looping around my neck, cutting off my air. He locked my other hand with a second chain, the cold clink of metal sealing my fate.

He’s really going to do it… Oh goodness, no. My vision swam, blurred by blood and tears, but I could feel everything. I was trapped, helpless. All I could do was pray. The last flicker of defiance drained away, leaving only hollow terror. A cold gust of air hit my exposed skin as he forced my legs apart once more.

“Perseus, please,” I wept, the words barely a whisper. I begged the Creator, the Moon Goddess, anyone who would listen. Just then, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

He stilled, cursing under his breath. After a tense moment, he shoved away from me and stalked toward the door, leaving me shaking and exposed on the bed.

The relief was instant and overwhelming, a flood of shaky breath leaving my lungs. He wasn’t gone for good—I knew that—but for now, I was safe.

He shot me one last venomous look from the doorway. "This isn’t over yet," he growled, before yanking the door shut behind him.

Later that night, I'm awakened by footsteps on the hard wooden floor, causing me to wake up with a headache. The world spun for a moment, and just before I can blink, I sight the flames that swallow up the door, sending shivers through my spine as I realized what was happening. The heat from the fire was intense, and I could feel my skin growing hot and prickly.

The room was on fire. I'm going to die. Goodness… I can't free myself from the lock, I keep struggling, but it doesn't work. The chains were too tight, too strong. They were a cruel joke, a final act of mockery from George. I was trapped, and there was nothing I could do.

I feel one of my babies kick as tears slipped through my eyes. The tiny flutter of life within me was a painful reminder of everything I was about to lose. I had failed them. I couldn't do something right, I didn't put up a fight like I should've, and I knew I had failed them. I couldn't even see Perseus one last time.

I watch as the flame slid through the vanity, consuming the whole room as I shut my eyes. The heat was unbearable now, a fiery embrace that promised a swift end. I could hear the crackling and popping of the wood as it burned, a symphony of destruction.

I'm calling for Eira, but I can feel her stir within me in pain. The fire was hurting her, too. I was a vessel for her magic, and as I was consumed by the flames, so was she. This was George's plan. This was it. This is the end. There was no escape, no last-minute rescue. Just the fire, the pain, and the bitter taste of defeat.