la jeune fille marquée
She loves him. She knows that now, and it is a restless ache in her heart.
She wishes she could love Magnus fully, unfettered. She wishes that she had a love untainted by darkness to offer him, but she never will. Not anymore. Every fiber of her being has been broken into pieces, shredded and rebuilt. There is no trace of the innocent and unmarked mare that stumbled into the mountains so many years ago. She hadn't known, when the white wolf's red eyes met hers, that her trembling body would never again be hers.
Some days she can hardly stand her own skin. She feels dirty, used, less than worthy of love.
She had thought escaping would quell her fears but the nightmares have only intensified. Though her days are filled with her sweet little daughter and her beautiful surroundings and him, her angel, her nights are terror incarnate. She is forced to relieve the worst of herself, and those around her.
She closes her eyes to sleep, to clutch at rest, and the demons appear.
She feels the heat of Gryffen as he rapes her, the act of sex somehow more violent and crushing than the beating he has just given her. She smells his earthy musk, the heady scent of him overpowering her, drowning out the faint aroma of lilies that clings to her coat.
She tastes blood in her mouth. It gathers in pools that dribble from her muzzle as he kicks her, reminding her that she is nothing more than the dirt beneath his hooves.
Anger, disgust, rage. They fill the pit of her stomach. She whimpers in her sleep, her teeth clenched against an all too familiar assailant.
And then there is the dark god. He hovers, waiting for his chance to remind her of the terrible despair he has wrought upon her soul. A vicious beast stalks her, violates the sweet memories of her childhood home, tears her to pieces. Flames crackle, licking at her body, feasting hungrily upon the flesh until there is nothing left. Blood drips steadily from her hip as Carnage's mark is etched into her skin.
And she watches herself die over and over again. Not-Minette, her body worn by a life of suffering, torn to pieces by hell hounds.
Each moment of agony feels as if it is happening for the first time. Except she always knows how the story will end.
Only as the faint light of the sun appears on the east do the horrors release her.
Dark bruises have appeared around her eyes and weight has slowly dropped from her body. She forgets to eat, unless reminded, and though she smiles and laughs and speaks, a haunted look never quite leaves her brown eyes. Minette does her best to hide it from those she loves best, and she daily hopes that Amorette will never know the pain her mother experiences.
And then one day, she is panicked to find she has reached a place of blackness so deep that the light can no longer be found.
She wakes to a world devoid of reason. Her voice is flat, despite her best efforts, when she directs Amorette to run and play with her sister. Minette watches with eyes dry of tears as the little girl obeys. When she is certain the dark filly is occupied, the gray mare turns and walks away. The forest bordering Heaven greets her, the trees enveloping her battered and scarred body into the shade. A wave of fear is swallowed by numbness, and there is bitter relief in that.
She thinks of the golden stallion with the serious eyes and the slow, beautiful smile.
She wants him to come. She hopes he will stay away. She longs for the sound of his wings on the wind, of his low, honey-whiskey voice and the safety he offers.
But she deserves none of it.
What would he think of her, if he knew what lurked within the recesses of her heart? An anguished longing swells within her chest and she drops her head, giving in to despair.
She wishes she could love Magnus fully, unfettered. She wishes that she had a love untainted by darkness to offer him, but she never will. Not anymore. Every fiber of her being has been broken into pieces, shredded and rebuilt. There is no trace of the innocent and unmarked mare that stumbled into the mountains so many years ago. She hadn't known, when the white wolf's red eyes met hers, that her trembling body would never again be hers.
Some days she can hardly stand her own skin. She feels dirty, used, less than worthy of love.
She had thought escaping would quell her fears but the nightmares have only intensified. Though her days are filled with her sweet little daughter and her beautiful surroundings and him, her angel, her nights are terror incarnate. She is forced to relieve the worst of herself, and those around her.
She closes her eyes to sleep, to clutch at rest, and the demons appear.
She feels the heat of Gryffen as he rapes her, the act of sex somehow more violent and crushing than the beating he has just given her. She smells his earthy musk, the heady scent of him overpowering her, drowning out the faint aroma of lilies that clings to her coat.
She tastes blood in her mouth. It gathers in pools that dribble from her muzzle as he kicks her, reminding her that she is nothing more than the dirt beneath his hooves.
Anger, disgust, rage. They fill the pit of her stomach. She whimpers in her sleep, her teeth clenched against an all too familiar assailant.
And then there is the dark god. He hovers, waiting for his chance to remind her of the terrible despair he has wrought upon her soul. A vicious beast stalks her, violates the sweet memories of her childhood home, tears her to pieces. Flames crackle, licking at her body, feasting hungrily upon the flesh until there is nothing left. Blood drips steadily from her hip as Carnage's mark is etched into her skin.
And she watches herself die over and over again. Not-Minette, her body worn by a life of suffering, torn to pieces by hell hounds.
Each moment of agony feels as if it is happening for the first time. Except she always knows how the story will end.
Only as the faint light of the sun appears on the east do the horrors release her.
Dark bruises have appeared around her eyes and weight has slowly dropped from her body. She forgets to eat, unless reminded, and though she smiles and laughs and speaks, a haunted look never quite leaves her brown eyes. Minette does her best to hide it from those she loves best, and she daily hopes that Amorette will never know the pain her mother experiences.
And then one day, she is panicked to find she has reached a place of blackness so deep that the light can no longer be found.
She wakes to a world devoid of reason. Her voice is flat, despite her best efforts, when she directs Amorette to run and play with her sister. Minette watches with eyes dry of tears as the little girl obeys. When she is certain the dark filly is occupied, the gray mare turns and walks away. The forest bordering Heaven greets her, the trees enveloping her battered and scarred body into the shade. A wave of fear is swallowed by numbness, and there is bitter relief in that.
She thinks of the golden stallion with the serious eyes and the slow, beautiful smile.
She wants him to come. She hopes he will stay away. She longs for the sound of his wings on the wind, of his low, honey-whiskey voice and the safety he offers.
But she deserves none of it.
What would he think of her, if he knew what lurked within the recesses of her heart? An anguished longing swells within her chest and she drops her head, giving in to despair.