37

It was just a dream-a vivid, overwhelming dream that felt all too real. Her heartbeat was erratic, and she could still feel that warmth in her chest, that melting sensation from the dream, but now it was fading, replaced by the sour reality of her room. 

She didn't bother to look around, the chamber was faint anyway, the only source of light being the dim glow of the moon filtering through the curtains.

She felt a pang of disappointment and emptiness as she tried to shake off the remnants of the dream. It had felt so terrifying yet exhilarating. Why had she seen that? She sat up and gripped her hair in frustration.

Regan couldn't help but feel a surge of embarrassment for dreaming of kissing her enemy. And he had told her she made him feel things, he had kissed her so....passionately.

But she had to get a grip of herself. It wasn't real. And even if she'd make him feel things, she didn't want to know what these things were. She didn't want to be an object of his....whatever he had meant in the dream. In the dream, yes.

"What are you thinking about?" that gruff voice made her startle. She looked up to see the demon lord sitting on a chaise across, his icy eyes glinting in the dim light. Regan's breath hitched. Had he been here all along? Was he watching her sleep? It was dark and it was hard to read his features clearly, but his gaze was on her, intense and penetrating.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The sight of him made her heart race even faster, but she tried to push aside the memories of that dream. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. He'd never feel....that....way.

"You fell unconscious and I brought you back here," he replied coolly.

"And how did I fall unconscious?" Regan demanded, a flicker of panic rising within her at the implications of his words, "How did you bring me back here? What did you do to me?"

"Nothing that wasn't necessary," Sirius replied nonchalantly, his voice eerily calm, "You had....an overcharging session. It's nothing to worry about."

Regan frowned, her breath turning quicker, "What does that mean?" she retorted, her voice firm despite the fear.

Sirius leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable, "It happens sometimes, when one's powers are unstable," he explained vaguely, "Do you remember anything?"

Regan's frown deepened. What did she remember? The plan to escape, Ruby missing, the dungeons....Mathias. That bastard, his words about the playroom, and all the venom he had spat. But since Sirius was sitting there without a care, it meant he hadn't learn what she had done yet, right? She hoped he'd never find out.

But anyway, what happened then? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. What if he was lying? What if he had gotten in her dreams, like he did on Earth, and....and done and said all these things? The thought sent a chill through her body.

"You fainted while arguing with me, when you were saying you weren't bound to me," Sirius said when he saw she didn't plan to answer.

The pieces slowly clicked, and she remembered saying that to him. "And how did you bring me here?" she asked with an accusing voice, narrowing her eyes.

"I used a simple teleportation spell," he answered with a shrug, his voice low." Regan fell silent, wondering how had that teleportation spell worked.

"So, what were you thinking when you woke up?" he asked, his eyes flicking with a hint of curiosity. He couldn't help but contemplate why she was so quiet. She was always vocal and argumentative, especially with him. 

Regan took a deep breath, trying to diffuse the dream from her mind and come up with something, "I was thinking about how I'll destroy your reign and corrupted order," she replied, trying to sound strong.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "Bold words of you," he remarked, "but your obstinacy will only lead to your demise."

The air grew charged, and she realized that she didn't want him here at all, in the middle of the night. She wouldn't ever want him here in the first place, but the dream had kept her mind in a daze for a little, "Get out," she snapped, averting her eyes. She couldn't look at him, he reminded her of that dream and she couldn't bear it.

Sirius's jaw ticked with a hint of annoyance, but he kept his cool, "I'll leave, my dear princess," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "But I'll have to admit, it was brave of you to think you could escape from here. And even if you would, you think the world outside is full of sunshine and unicorns?" he asked sharply, "It's much more corrupted than you think. You wouldn't last a minute out there. And no, I don't mean dying. I mean, many, many terrible things."

His words sent a shiver of dread through her, but she swallowed it down, "I'd rather suffer out there, than be your prisoner," she spat defiantly.

"You'd rather snap at me than listen to reason," Sirius muttered, the frustration in his features evident. Silence fell for a while, his eyes never leaving her form, until he spoke again, "You're shaking," he noted, his tone softening slightly. "Are you cold?"

Regan gripped the blanket, keeping from wrapping it around her. She didn't want to show any vulnerability, but indeed, she was cold. And she was wearing just a short sleeved blouse, without any cloak. The realization didn't hit her well. "Where's my cloak?" she demanded, her voice a blend of fear and confusion.

Sirius sighed, "I took it off when you were unconscious," he said, "You were uncomfortable."

Regan's cheeks grew hot with embarrassment and anger as she realized he had touched her, "And you dared touch me?" she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice trembling.

He rose from the chaise, and grabbed a piece of dark robe that had been hanging behind it. It was her cloak. "I didn't touch you. I used magic. No need to get riled up."

"I don't trust you," Regan said quickly, her eyes warily watching him approach.

"Trust is overrated," he smirked, draping the cloak around her shoulder as soon as he was near. "And it's one thing you should never nurture here."

"Leave," Regan replied, her voice cold and firm, despite the blush that had crept up her cheeks. She couldn't bear his words and his presence looming over her, she needed him to be as far as possible from her. "Just leave me alone."

Sirius stared at her for a moment, his expression devoid of any emotion. Regan was glad the chamber was dark, but she couldn't help but feel like he had a better night sight.

He lit a candle on the bedside table, and his voice was mocking when he spoke, "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?"

Regan didn't dare move or wrap the cloak around her. She didn't want to appear weak. "No, I'm perfectly fine. Now leave."

"You don't get to tell me what to do in my own property," he retorted firmly, the authority in his voice undeniable, "And if you think you have power here, you're sorely mistaken."

Regan struggled for words to defend herself, but he was right. She was just his captive, and he was her captor. She couldn't order or demand anything from him.

"And why are you staying?" she asked, forcing herself to glare up at him.

"Why shouldn't I?" he answered, voice sharp, "You want someone else to stay? Someone who will tell you sweet lies and promises of freedom?" he sneered with gaze too heavy for her liking. Regan's hands fisted on the blanket, her mind swirling with confusion. How dare he say such things?

"And you want someone submissive who would obey your every command, I suppose?" she snapped back, her voice dripping with venom. "Someone who would bow down to your every whim and kiss the ground you walk on?"

"Careful, princess. You sound like you expect me to want your defiance," his tone was dangerously low as he leaned down a little, "And trust me, you wouldn't want that."

"I don't expect anything from you. But I don't know what you expect from me." The last part was a mutter, Mathias's words about the playroom ringing in her head. "You're always watching, lurking in the shadows," she added bitterly.

"And yet here you are, still talking to me," Sirius remarked, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"I'm not talking to you!" Regan exclaimed, her voice rising with frustration. "You're the one who isn't getting out of here."

He watched her for a moment, before he leaned back, and sighed almost in mock surrender, "I enjoy checking on my prisoners," he said, stepping back, "But you, you are one I regret not eliminating when I had the chance."

His words were like a slap in the face, harsh and cruel, cutting through her anger like a knife. They were enemies, of course. But the coldness in his voice stung deeper than she had anticipated.

"Such a shame you didn't," she bit back, watching him already leaving the room. "I don't care about your regrets."

"You're right, you don't care," he finished flatly, "Goodnight, Ylor," with a cold tone. But there was something else in his eyes, something like.... disappointment that she didn't see.

She stared as he left the room, his long coat flowing behind him, the turns of the key grating on her nerves. Regan felt a strange mix of relief and melancholy. She lay down again, and she couldn't believe her eyes were almost watering. The dream, it had been one of the very few ones she had.... almost fancied throughout her entire life. Her usual dreams, they weren't dreams, they were nightmares, and she was used to seeing them. 

She grabbed a pillow and hugged it, wishing her pet hadn't left her. Ruby had been a living companions amidst the empty, cold walls.

Regan stayed like that for a while, until she started feeling hot and thirsty. She kicked the covers off and sat up, trying to shove the thoughts about Sirius out of her mind. But it was impossible, she fell deeper in her mind's abyss. 

Regan ran a hand through her hair. He'd find out eventually about Mathias, it was sure. And then....and then she didn't know what she'd do.

There was no water pitcher in the room and she was feeling incredibly parched. With a resigned sigh, she stood up and made her way to the door, determined to find something to drink. Maybe she could hide somewhere too. But the thought felt like a joke.

The stern faces of the guards in the hallway made her halt. Would they let her out? She had to try, despite the hope fading. She was trapped in a sweet and bitter cycle of defiance and captivity.

One of the guards stopped her as she exited her room, his narrowing suspiciously. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded, blocking her way.

"I need water," Regan replied tersely, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

The guard looked unconvinced, glancing back at his companions, whose faces were blank, "Fine. I'll send a servant."

"I can get it myself," Regan retorted, her tone defiant. "Just let me pass."

The guard hesitated for a moment, clearly torn between following orders and allowing her to pass. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he stepped aside, allowing her to proceed down the hallway. "If you go far, you'll get in trouble," he warned, his tone sour.

Regan nodded, walking past them. She didn't know where she was going, but she had to get away from that room. And she had to get away from these draining thoughts.

She walked down the dimly lit hallway, following a set of grand stairs that led to the lower levels of the castle. Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a hand with sharp, long nails, snaked around her arm, dragging her away to a corner. Regan almost cried in fear, but her eyes just widened when she saw it was Vesper, her features contorted in malice.

"What a poor thing," Vesper spat, holding her pinned, "What are you doing, wandering in the shadows in the middle of the night?"

"Get away from me," Regan demanded, trying to push the witch away from her. But in response, something sharp and metallic pressed against her neck, and her heart caught on her throat when she realized the shape of a dagger.

"Your master won't be pleased if he knows you're tainting his manor with your filthy self," Vesper's eyes were much sharper than the blade, and Regan could feel the trickle of swear forming in her neck.

"He's not my master," she hissed back, her mind working fast for an opening.

The witch smiled wickedly, "You think that just because he gave you some 'freedom' and told you who you are, now you're suddenly important? Well, let me tell you, you're nothing, Regan. You have nothing, you have no one. Your so called 'royalty' is dead, just as the rest of your lineage. You should be grateful you have a place to stay, because soon, you'll be thrown to the wolves, and you'll see what a painful death really means."

Regan had never been spoken with so much hatred before, and she wondered what she'd done to Vesper to deserve such loathing. But that was a thought for another time. "I don't need titles, and I don't need anyone to defend myself," she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. The metallic blade had started to cut her skin, and she could feel a beam of blood.

Vesper's breathing was ragged, her grip on the dagger never loosening, "You should be ashamed of yourself," she bit back, her eyes full of spite, "You should be ashamed when you look at him. You're so ugly, so weak, so..."

But Regan's blood had risen to a boiling point, and she didn't know how she did it, but she somehow dislodged Vesper's hold, kneed her in the stomach, and tore herself away, the impact making both of them stumble at the point that Vesper's dagger clattered on the floor. "I've done nothing wrong to be ashamed of him!" Regan snapped, her voice echoing in the hallway. She quickly bent down to grab the dagger, which now had a fine line of blood that made her insides churn.

Vesper's expression was like a live breathing poison. She pushed herself off the wall, and managed to stand in front of Regan. "I know very well what you're trying to do. You're trying to seduce him!"

Regan was speechless for a moment, but she found her voice, now much stronger than before. "I don't need to seduce anyone! I'm not like you, I don't sell myself to men for power. I may not have titles or wealth, but I have something you'll never have, Vesper. I have dignity."

Vesper's jaw clenched, and she lunges forward, kicking Regan's legs out from under her, catching her off guard and sending her crashing to the ground. "You think you're so much better than me?" she spat, grabbing a fistful of Regan's hair. "You think Sirius prefers you over me? You're just his toy, nothing more, nothing less, and you'll never be anything more!"

These words stung, but Regan refused to let it show. Vesper's grip was so painful that she could feel the skin of her scalp starting to tear and bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"I'm not anyone's toy!" she growled, trying to shove Vesper of her, "I don't fucking care about Sirius or you." She had to act fast because Vesper wasn't planning to let go. Her hands were busy, and she somewhat could feel a strange energy coursing through her hair. Her eyes slammed shut, her strands began to glow, and soon, Vesper hissed in pain, immediately letting go.

Regan gathered her breathing, her hair glowing and hovering slightly in the air. Vesper was clutching her hand, "You little bitch," she spat out, "You'll have to learn more than that." With a flick of her wrist, she aimed her magic at the dagger who was laying on the floor once more, sending it flying straight towards Regan. Regan barely managed to dodge the dagger, hearing it whistle past her ear.

"You're pathetic," Vesper sneered. She shot her palms forward, a bolt of electricity preparing to attack. Regan aiming a bolt of energy on Regan's way. The space began to feel more cramped as she realized Vesper wanted to fight using magic. She cast a shield to defend herself, but she could feel the frustration growing within her.

Vesper was relentless, her magic striking Regan's shield like bullets in a vessel. Regan used her fire, but Vesper dodged, so it ended up striking the vases on a section of the hallway, sending them crashing on the floor, with a sound that would surely he heard.

Vesper continued to shoot in a hail, Regan didn't deter, and they ended up in a cycle of fire and electricity. Her adversary had no intention of ending this soon, Regan realized. She had to get out of here, at least buy herself some time before Sirius found out about Mathias.

She took a deep breath, hoping for a way to manipulate her fire. Maybe she could use it to block, but what if it ended up burning the curtains or something worse? Even if that happened, Vesper wouldn't stay there and watch, she thought. So she did it, struck her flames, and they rose high, engulfing the hallway with their heat.

Vesper's eyes widened at the sight, "You coward!" she screamed. "You're going to burn everything down!"

"Well, that's not my place. So, even if it burns, I don't give a damn!" Regan shouted back. Vesper, on the other hand, seemed to be regaining her composure. She glared at Regan, her eyes blazing with anger. "You'll pay for that, you puny imbecile!" she spat.

Regan shot one last flame on Vesper's way, preventing them from seeing each other properly. Then, she took the opportunity and grabbed the dagger that was thrown on the floor. She hid it somewhere under her cloak and rushed to the other side of the hallway.

She knew she acted like a coward but she wasn't in the mood to fight Vesper now.

She ran out of breath and skipped the long stairs that were possibly leading to the chamber where she was being held.

Soon, she reached the familiar corridor. The armed men watched her in suspicion, but she ignored them, quickly disappearing behind the door of her chamber. She locked it and then released a breath. It wasn't safer there either but she didn't have much of a choice.

Vesper's dagger was made of a shiny silver and adorned with delicate carvings. It must have been ancient and mystic.

She had forgotten she was thirsty, but she still

was. And because of Vesper, they weren't going to let her out now.

And Mathias's matter was a constant anxiety. If Sirius learnt that, she was doomed, she told herself.