Married To The Villain
Chapter 91: The Cost Of Power

Chapter 91: The Cost Of Power

Chapter 91: The Cost Of Power

Every muscle in Lirian’s body screamed as she was dragged through the damp stone corridors, her boots scraped the ground.

Her breath came in short gasps, the gashes along her arms and ribs still was letting blood run.

The creatures that had taken her moved silently, their claws were not allowed to lose their grip on her arms.

The air was smelt like mold with the scent of burning incense and something foul beneath it—something rotting.

Torches moved along the walls, forming long, twisted shadows that seemed to sneer at her.

"Heh..."

A heavy door opened to a chamber lit by an eerie green light.

At the center, a black stone altar pulsed with dark energy, surrounded by tall pillars draped in tattered banners and the scent of old blood.

And then she saw them.

Meylo was standing beside the altar, face lit with a grin.

He was draped in dark robes, his fingers twitched with anticipation.

Beside him was Lucius... He looked at her with the cold, detached amusement of a man who already knew how this night would end.

But it was what lay at their feet that made Lirian’s blood turn to ice.

Daria’s dead body sprawled on the stone floor, her eyes were covered in old blood.

Lirian looked around, and saw that crimson liquid pooled beneath her, soaking into her pale blue same dress she had worn to the tea party.

Lirian’s stomach lurched.

Daria had been annoying, arrogant, spoiled, but she didn’t deserve this.

None of them did.

She darted around the chamber.

More bodies...

Other noble girls from that same gathering, their features looked frozen, their skin seemed sickly pale.

"No..." Lirian breathed.

Meylo clapped his hands together, the sound sliced through the silence like a blade.

"Ah, you’re awake. Good. I would have been very disappointed if you missed the show," he mused, stepping toward her with slow strides.

Lirian tried to jerk away, but the creatures held her fast.

She glared at them both, her chest kept rising and falling with quicker breaths.

"You monsters," she spat in a hoarse voice.

Lucius lifted his head, smiling as if she had just given him a compliment.

"Come now, daughter. You act as though this is surprising. You knew your father had plans for you, didn’t you?"

Lirian’s stomach was ready to stop working at the word.

Father.

He had always been distant, cold. But this? This was beyond cruelty...he was supposed to be betrayed by Meylo...

"You knew this would happen," Lucius continued in a velvety smooth tone.

"You felt it, didn’t you? That little whisper in the back of your mind telling you that you would never be free?"

She clenched her jaw.

Meylo reached forward, grasping her chin roughly between his fingers, tilting her face up to meet his hollow eyes.

"And you thought you could run from destiny?" he murmured, his breath reeking of decay.

"That precious ring of yours—it hid you well for a time. But nothing can keep power locked away forever."

His fingers trailed down her throat, pausing where her pulse hammered beneath her skin.

"And yours, dear Lirian... your power is special."

With a hold of his wrist, an electrifying pain erupted through her body.

"Aaaaaaagh!" Lirian screamed.

It felt like fire and ice clawing through her veins at once.

Her mana was being ripped from her, pulled from the very core of her being.

The golden butterflies that had once been her strength now felt like razors, slicing her from the inside out as they were forced out of her body.

The ring on her finger cracked.

Meylo grinned, as if he won something. "Ah, there it is," he whispered.

Lirian’s knees buckled, but the creatures holding her forced her upright.

Lucius sighed, shaking his head.

"You always were a disappointment. Weak. Unruly. Just like your mother."

Her head snapped up, rage cut through the agony.

"Don’t talk about her," she hissed.

Lucius’s smirk widened.

"Why? Because she fought so hard to keep you from this fate? And where did it get her, Lirian? Dead."

Another wave of pain rushed through her.

"Aaaagh!"

More mana was pulled from her, flying in the air like golden mist before being absorbed into the altar.

The stone pulsed hungrily, drinking in her power.

Meylo chuckled.

"You feel it, don’t you? The way the magic tears at your soul? That’s because you were never meant to keep it. You are merely a vessel, Lirian. And all vessels must be emptied."

Her vision blurred with tears.

Every muscle in her body trembled as she fought against the pull, but it was relentless.

Lucius crouched beside her, his voice sounded almost gentle.

"Give in, daughter. It will be easier that way."

She gasped for breath, clenching her fists so tightly her nails cut into her palms.

Meylo sighed as if disappointed.

"Still resisting? Tsk. Perhaps a little... encouragement?"

He raised his hand, and from the shadows, something moved.

Lirian barely had time to register the shape before blinding agony seared through her back.

A lash.

The first strike stole her breath.

The second made her vision flash white.

By the third, she could taste blood.

Her knees finally gave out, and she collapsed onto the cold stone, her body wracked from trembling.

Meylo crouched beside her, tracing a bloodied finger across her cheek.

"Not so defiant now, are we?"

Lucius watched impassively. "Enough. We don’t need her dead."

Meylo clicked his tongue, standing up. "Very well. But she’s close. A few more sessions, and she’ll be empty."

Empty.

Lirian could barely process the words through the fog of pain.

Lucius turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Rest, Lirian. You’ll need it."

And with that, the doors slammed shut, leaving her alone in the dark.

Her breath came in shuddering gasps.

She could still feel the blood dripping from her wounds, still feel the remnants of her stolen mana hanging in the air like smoke.

But somewhere, deep inside, a single ember of hope remained.

They hadn’t broken her.

Not yet.

"Gabriel, save me..."