TW; brief scene of non consensual sex near the end

The sun was shining on yet another wonderful spring day. The flowers were coming into bloom, the usual cold mountain range was warming with the welcoming rays. It was a pleasant change; winter always felt like it lasted too long up here. The three or so months we got of decent sun, I always wanted to last longer.

I would've been enjoying the wonderful surroundings if it wasn't for the tight grip on my hand.

"What are you staring at, Ailia?" Darius wondered.

I cleared my throat, turning to him with a fake, sweet smile. "Just admiring the flowers."

He hummed at me, eying my face for a sign of a lie. He had his hair cut just moments ago, the once longer blonde hair was now shaved at the sides and short on top. Darius was a handsome guy, caught the eye of many people, but he was more than what he let on. Although we did not live together, we often had 'sleepovers' at his house. My mother had practically encouraged the bonding moment, a bad twinkle in her eye.

I had been 'courting' Darius for two years. His father was one of the three leaders of my little town, and he was two years older than me. We were supposed to get married when I turned eighteen, which was in February, but I convinced them to postpone it to June so I could have a summer wedding. Our families had jumped at the chance, taking my fake smile as eagerness to have a pretty wedding.

I didn't want a pretty wedding; I didn't want a wedding at all.

I wanted my job back, my freedom and privacy that I had as a teenager. The isolation and uncaring gazes back then were better than the scrutiny I received now. Being betrothed to someone as high up and wealthy as Darius meant I had to look the part. No more working, no more bad hair days and no more bad clothes.

From the moment I found out who Darius truly was, I began to save my spare coins. I couldn't stay here. I had to escape before I was attached to a man such as him. On the outside, we walked hand in hand, with pleasant smiles as we wandered the town to admire the upcoming festivities. But his hand was too tight, my posture too stiff, and his smile too fake.

I had learnt that now. It didn't take me long to see the moment Darius was annoyed.

The first time I had seen him show his true colours, we had been courting for three months. It was the first time I 'slept-over' and the first time someone touched my private areas. I had resisted, and he did not like it. I was sixteen, Darius was eighteen, an uncomfortable age gap to me, but no-one seemed to care so I had learnt to ignore it.

I wanted to tell my mother, to seek guidance on how he touched me and made me touch him, but she would just call me foul words. Darius reassured me it was normal for couples to touch each other like that, so over time, I allowed him to do as he pleased. If I resisted, he would grow angry, and I didn't like it when he was angry. I learned that staying quiet was the only way to come out of it scratch and bruise free.

I remember the first time he gave me a publicly visible mark; a black eye. Before, he had stuck to kicking me or slapping, but this came when I had resisted sex for the first time. We had been dating six months at that point. His touches had grown more needy until the day finally came. I had come home, trying to shield the bruises, but my sweet little Arabella noticed. As a freshly turned thirteen year old girl, she was smarter than she looked. My mother had overheard, and I thought I saw an ounce of shock on her face, but she covered it up with laughing insults.

I had never wanted to get out of there more. So, I saved my money. Our contract of marriage stated I could still work until our relationship truly blossomed; which ended up being only nine months. My mother received an amount for our companionship and would soon be paid 'for her daughter's hand' when I was good and married. I wonder if his parents knew the man they had raised, if they would still allow me to marry him. Were they the same? Were his mother's smiles just as fake as mine?

But someone had stolen all of my money the moment my mother found out. She checked my pay-slips, and one day whilst I was out with Darius, she stole the lot. I had saved around one hundred coins, and she used it all on pretty things and wine.

Darius' hand pulling on my arm snapped me out of my daydream; he caught me slipping. His deep brown eyes narrowed, and I chewed my lip, giving him a timid smile. If I stayed meek, if I stayed silent, he wouldn't hurt me. I didn't like it when he did.

"Yes, Darius?"

"You're daydreaming. I don't like it when you daydream."

I frowned, smoothing down the pretty blue dress I wore. "Sorry, Darius."

He huffed, tugging my arm once more to lead me towards a coffee shop. We sat at a table for two, opposing each other. I exhaled visibly once he was away from me, feeling less on edge with the table in the middle. Darius insisted on ordering for me, as always. He liked the control, liked the way he was the one to provide and show it off.

Most women would love that from a man, but I just wanted my freedom. I wanted to make my own choices, to work, to be on my own, but in this cruel, post-war world, I was stuck betrothed to a man I hated. The man that kept me awake at night with haunting thoughts.

Once Darius ordered, I sighed down at the sight of the coffee in front of me. He had allowed me a coffee, so I knew I wasn't in too much trouble. Good days, he got me hot chocolate, bad days; I had water. Coffee was a good in between. I could work with coffee.

"How was your day?" I wondered, stirring the dark liquid with my spoon.

I sneaked a glance at him, unable to admit that he wasn't handsome. He was, and that's what confused me so much. A dashing man, with kind words, always calmed the rage of thoughts swirling through my mind.

He eyed me curiously over his newspaper. The front page was covered in large, colourful print about the Spring Festival. That was two days away, and I was looking forward to it. The only thing I wasn't was the public face I would have to endure.

The Spring Festival and Market were something I looked forward to every year. The beginning of a wonderful summer marked the end of the shifters hunt. It started when I was young; the town creating a market to sell flowers, fruits and crafts. It grew to a celebration of life and the seasons after a few years, but mostly it gave us a celebratory moment to enjoy the end of the yearly wolf hunt. A time of safety.

The wolf's hunt was a time we all dreaded; when the town was tense. We were safe here, apparently, with tall walls and high in the mountains away from any nearby packs. The wolves never came here, so we celebrated the end of their gruesome hunt with a party of our own.

"It was fine." He grunted. "Finance books really. Ash came to help."

My curiosity peaked at the name of his best friend. Ash was the son of one of the other leading families in our village. With dark brown hair and kind brown eyes, he was often nice to me, and I enjoyed his company when he came over. Darius had his own place, one I stayed at every night this past month. Even though we weren't married, I may as well be living there. We have been together for twenty-six months now, not that I was counting...

"Ash? I bet that was a pleasant visit." I commented.

He raised an eyebrow at me, sipping at his coffee. "Indeed."

Conversation fell short after that and my shoulders sagged slightly when I realised he would pry nothing out of me. I should be used to it by now. His growing lack of interest was nothing new. I was just a female his parents practically bought to keep his image up. I don't know why they chose me, perhaps a good Samaritan thing, since my family was so poor.

After coffee, Darius' hand came to rest on the small of my back. His fingers were gentle as they wrapped around my hip and pulled me into his side. A faint blush rose on my cheeks when nearby women giggled, eyeing the interaction. If it wasn't for the touching, I'm sure the shiny diamond ring on my finger gave them enough to talk about.

To the public eye, we had been dating for two years, and the ring appeared around the first snowfall. All for image, I reminded myself. Darius didn't care.

I eyed him from next to me. His height was four inches more than mine which meant I didn't have to look too far. Darius looked down at me with a pleasant smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he walked me back to his home. He helped me through the front gate and up the neatly kept front path. He even opened the door for me before locking it shut behind us.

"Are you okay?" He wondered.

A small smile graced my lips, and I nodded to him, casting my eyes down at his intruding gaze.

"Yes, thank you."

His hand came to trace my throat, and my breath hitched when his thumb pushed under my jaw. He tilted my head back, and blue crashed with brown. I swallowed, his thumb pushing against the movement that his eyes followed. It froze me as he held me there, his eyes burning into mine.

"Good, because I want you."

I winced as he pulled me forward by the throat, his hand bruising as it pressed into my jaw. I allowed his mouth to devour mine as I tried not to concentrate on the pain he released on my skin. The taste of his coffee poured down my throat. I had done so well to prevent one of his physical outbursts. I wanted to be make-up and bruise free for the Spring Festival, but with a harsh push against the wall, I knew this would not be so easy.

With haste, he was all over me. We didn't even make it up the stairs. His hands pushing my dress skirt to my waist and panties to the floor as he forced me over the sideboard. My fingers gripped the wood as he rode his pleasure, his hand pushing my head down so I couldn't move. I breathed heavily, fear building in my chest as he restricted my airways. My heart hammered in my chest, hating the way my lower stomach pooled with warmth. My own body even betrayed me.

With a grunting sigh of accomplishment, I felt him pull out and finish on my lower back. One thing he never did was finish inside of me. I was happy that he didn't because we had no such thing as birth pills anymore. It was the wolves' way of controlling the population; only they had a say in such a thing. We had the strange sleeve things that men use, but Darius complained they always hurt him.

He cleared his throat from behind me, his hand moving away from the back of my neck. I stayed there, awaiting his permission to raise, as he pulled out a cigar and lit it. How we didn't have birth control, but they allowed liquor and tobacco, was beyond me...

"Go. Clean up. I have guests tonight." He grunted.

I stood upright, ashamed of my body's reaction. He always hated it when I got so damp, complaining it wasn't as enjoyable as when it was tight. I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but it hurt his feelings, so I agreed.

Keeping my dress gathered in my arms, I picked up my underwear and hurried up the stairs. I made my way into my bedroom, grateful for the courtesy of my bed space. Stripping nude, I turned on the shower and climbed in quickly. My hair was in a neat bun today, tamed and primed neatly, so I kept it that way for now. Washing the remnants of his pleasure from my skin, I sighed in satisfaction once I was clean of his touches.

I made my way out of the shower, wrapping up in a towel. Wiping the fog from the mirror with a cloth, I winced at the reddening marks that graced my neck. Across my jaw and down my throat, his hand left a large mark, one I hoped wouldn't bruise. Going by the ache in the right of my jaw, though, the hopes may not come true.

Wincing, I dried myself off, preparing myself for an evening of cooking and presenting myself to him and his guests.

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Ailia is an interesting character, and I cannot wait to show you guys her.