Married To Darkness
Chapter 317: Conversation With The Abducter

Chapter 317: Conversation With The Abducter

"Why did I think I could just walk back alone?"

She had been so desperate for a moment of peace, a moment to herself.

She had felt so suffocated, so trapped by the whispers, the stares, the constant reminder that she didn’t belong. That she would never belong.

But now...

"Now look at me."

Her fingers brushed over the back of her head where the pain throbbed the worst. She winced as she felt the warm, sticky liquid clinging to her hair.

"I’m such a fool."

She curled in on herself, her breath hitching.

"Alaric must be so tired of me."

He was always fighting for her, always defending her, always watching over her. And yet, she kept making it harder for him. She was reckless, stubborn, trouble.

"What if this is it?"

What if this was the moment he decided she wasn’t worth it anymore?

Would he think she ran away? Would he believe that she had just given up?

The thought made her chest ache worse than her head.

"I can’t lose him. I can’t."

She wanted to scream for him, but her throat was raw, her voice hoarse from crying.

"Please, Alaric... find me."

She swallowed back another sob, her body trembling.

What if he didn’t?

What if he thought she was better off gone?

Salviana sat in the suffocating darkness, drowning in her thoughts, longing for the warmth of her husband’s arms—the only sanctuary she had ever known.

But just as the ache in her chest deepened, the silence shattered.

The door creaked.

A sound too deliberate, too measured.

Someone was opening it.

The door creaked as it swung open, the sound slicing through the heavy silence like a knife. Salviana’s breath caught in her throat.

She could barely make out the figure standing in the doorway, cloaked in darkness.

A flickering candle from the hallway behind him cast eerie shadows across the walls, but his face remained hidden beneath the hood of his cloak.

A cold shiver ran down her spine.

"The princess is awake," the man said, his voice muffled and calm, as if he were greeting an old friend rather than his captive.

Salviana forced herself to stand, slow and cautious. Her legs trembled, but she straightened her back.

The figure stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

She barely caught a glimpse of the dimly lit corridor before it vanished, leaving her once again in near-total darkness.

"Hello, how are you?" he asked, mockingly polite.

Salviana didn’t answer. Her throat felt dry, her pulse hammering in her ears.

"Silence? How very predictable," the man sighed. "I suppose you’re waiting for your beloved hound of a husband to come tearing through these doors? He will. I have no doubt. But unfortunately for him... and for you..." He took a step closer, the floor creaking beneath his boots. "This magic barrier will keep you here much longer than he expects."

Her stomach twisted.

Magic.

Alaric would come for her, she had no doubt—but could he break through whatever sorcery was keeping her locked away?

She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to work. "Why are you doing this? Who are you?"

The cloaked figure chuckled, a bitter, humorless sound. "Who am I?" He tilted his head slightly. "That’s a good question, isn’t it? Who am I compared to you? Compared to your monster of a husband? Compared to all of you sitting high and mighty on your golden thrones?"

His tone sharpened, anger bleeding through his words.

"I am no one. I am nothing. That’s how your kind sees me, isn’t it? Just another shadow lurking beneath your feet. Another nameless face in the crowd. But I see you. I see all of you."

His voice wavered between sadness and fury, a deranged mix of self-pity and hatred.

"You think your husband is special, don’t you? That he deserves his power, his wealth, his love? Do you know what he was born into? What he was given?" His voice turned venomous. "Do you know what I had? Nothing. Nothing but scraps while you all dined on gold-plated plates. While your kind laughed and danced, I starved. I bled."

Salviana’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. "So you kidnapped me because you hate Alaric?" she demanded.

"Oh, I don’t just hate him," the man whispered, stepping even closer. His breath was cold against her face. "I hate you. I hate the king. I hate his mother. I hate everything your existence represents."

Her breath hitched.

"And yet..." He exhaled, shaking his head as if disappointed. "I don’t plan to kill you. Not yet, at least. That would be too simple. No, I want him to suffer. I want him to feel helpless. To know what it’s like to lose something precious and be unable to do a damn thing about it."

Salviana clenched her jaw.

"If you think this will break him, you don’t know my husband at all," she said firmly.

The man let out a sharp laugh, the sound echoing in the small space. "We’ll see, won’t we?" His voice darkened. "Let’s see how long he takes before he starts losing his mind."

Salviana shivered and shut her eyes tight in exasperation.

"You should be grateful, you know," he said suddenly, his voice distorted, muffled like he had cotton stuffed in his mouth. "At least I let you feed during the celebration before carrying you off. Some captors wouldn’t be so kind."

Salviana felt sick. Her stomach twisted, and the dull throb at the back of her head made her vision blur. Grateful?

She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. Breathe. Think.

The man turned toward the door as if done with her. "Now, you just need to rest," he added, waving a hand dismissively. "Make yourself comfortable. You’ll be here for a while."

He stepped forward.

"Wait!" Salviana rasped, swallowing down her rising panic.

He paused, fingers resting on the door handle.

"I... I think I’m wounded in the head," she said, hating the weakness in her voice.

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