Ileus: The Dark Prince

Chapter 517: Revenge (3)

Anastasia shook her head, not in denial of what Aed Ruad said, but how crafty he was in his words. How clever he was in words that were like silk laced with poison. "Have mercy?" she asked. And then why did you come to Draoidh now? You should have stayed away," she said in a rough voice, her anger pulsing in her blood.

Aed Ruad licked his lips. "I— I—" he stammered. "I wanted to see how Draoidh looks. I wanted to see the place where you lived."

"Really? That's interesting," Anastasia said. "You sound like my lover now." Her tone was full of amusement.

Aed Ruad thought that she still had that little wish inside her heart that he would become her lover or that she wanted him to be her lover back in Vilinski. After all, he was so handsome and sought after by almost every woman who belonged to the nobility. Yes, he bedded them but had promised them to be their lover, for he always had to marry Anastasia. And since Anastasia was conditioned to marry him, she must have hidden her liking for him in her heart. "Yes!" he nodded. "I—I could never forget you. Just wanted to meet you once before—" he licked his lips. He wanted more water, his throat parched. The pain of his stabbed wing pulsated like a thousand thorns in his body. It was getting difficult to bear.

"Before?" asked Anastasia as she got up. Ileus immediately held his breath wondering, hoping that she needed help.

Aed Ruad's gaze followed her. "Before— before—"

She came back with a pitcher of water, and his earlier thought that she still had feelings for him, bloomed. He opened his mouth and she trickled water down his throat. Once he had a good amount of water, he felt so much better. He continued, "Before I went back. I didn't want to disturb your wedded life…"

"Oh! You thought that coming here would disturb my wedded life?" she said with amusement in her eyes. "Hah! I haven't had so much entertainment in my life," she chuckled mirthlessly. "And what made you believe that?" She turned her sword in a way that it reflected the light of the candle and shone a yellow and silver. The invisible symbols on it danced and twirled on its surface, as if playing with the steel, as if waiting to lash out, as if whispering to her a promise of love, a promise of delivering what she wanted.

"I—" his eyes glanced at the symbols. He hadn't seen anything like it.

"You think too highly of yourself, Aed Ruad!" she cut him off, her anger rising in her throat giving her a tart taste. "You feel no end of yourself. You are under so much delusion, in your own sick world that you are least bothered as to what others think! Both you and your sister Maple. If Maple wasn't your twin sister, you would have married that bitch, wouldn't it?"

"Anastasia!" he shouted. "Don't speak about Maple with your filthy tongue." Something inside him snapped. He loved Maple and he loved her a lot. She was the only girl he had ever loved. Yes, the fact that she was his twin stopped him from marrying her or bedding her, but nonetheless, he loved her from the core of his heart. She died because of his mother, because of the bitch sitting in front of her, because of that ugly exchange in which they were fooled. He had gone into severe depression after that. He remembered the look on Maple's face as he held her hand when she was breathing her last. If she was alive, he would have never sought any revenge. He would have taken her with him to their hideout and spent the entire life in her presence, in her closeness. Perhaps, another life, another time, she would come to him. "Maple was the only girl who knew me, who understood me, who—"

"Who you wanted to marry?" Anastasia completed the sentence, as she glared at him. "Who poisoned me, who whipped me, who tortured me, who would see my blood pooling near my legs and make you see it because you—" her chest heaved. "Because you derived pleasure from it!" She raised her sword. "Because you loved it when she whipped me, because she loved it when she whipped me. And that is why you encouraged her every fucking time!" her voice was breathless. "I was a tool for her twisted brain to play with. I was defenseless, I was alone and broken emotionally, you bastard!" she yelled and brought her sword down on his left wing.

"Ahhhhh!" Aed Ruad bellowed in pain. This time the pain was so harrowing that it was unbearable. Anastasia twisted her sword in his wing and something weird happened. Wisps of black smoke rose from the blood that spilled out. It hissed like steam over boiling water and rose to the ceiling. Tendrils rose from the blood of his battered right wing. "Wh— what is happening?" he wailed, terrified. What was she doing to him? Why was his body suddenly feeling as if something was siphoned from every nook and corner? His lips quivered, his mind became hazy. The searing pain was intense, the feeling was grueling, insufferable. "Wh—"? he rasped.

Anastasia pulled the sword out of his wing. She wiped the blood on his dress and while wiping it said, "You magic is leaving you. How are you feeling, dear brother?"

His eyes became wide as shock surged through him. How is that possible? No one can remove his magic. Magic was an integral part of the faes and the demons. They were born with it. This was surely trickery. She was making him believe that. Then why was his body feeling so... so… limp? "You are ensnaring my mind, bitch!" he breathed out. His eyes had become heavy. Black stars burst in his vision. "No. No."

She got up and placed her sword on her shoulder as she held its hilt. She placed her right foot on his stomach as her white wings spread out majestically behind her. Her eyes shone silver, which streaked brilliantly. "Maple and you poisoned me to suppress my magic. Maple and you took me to the Elders to shackle my wings. Look how I have returned the favor? Isn't it beautiful? The justice?" She smiled, tilting her head. "I took away all your magic with this. This is Evindal sword, forged in the mines of the elf kingdom and gifted to me by the elf king, Theodir."

Aed Ruad's lips quivered as he looked at the sword, whose blade glinted in the light. It's gem studded hilt reflected the yellow light, which fell on Anastasia's creamy skin. She looked… intimidating. He wanted to get up and scramble away from her. He looked at her foot that was resting on his stomach. Her gown was soaked in blood on the hem. Some was sprayed over the fabric till her thighs. "Leave me," he shook his head. "We are cousins. We are related by blood. Blood is thicker than water, and you should know that. I am your older brother. Please, please forgive me. I will never ever come back.. Show mercy, Anastasia."