la jeune fille marquée
He says her name, and with a start she realizes it's the first time she has heard it in years. Gryffen calls her minnow, and her children call her mother. The husky tone of Magnus' voice, deep and full, caress the syllables of her name. It makes her feel alive. Beautiful. Not a plaything at the whim of those stronger than her, but a lady worthy of being loved. Tears spring to her eyes. She scolds herself silently, hating her emotions for being so difficult to control. For long years she has locked away her weakness so that she could survive but something about this buckskin stallion makes her defenses melt away.
Minette recognizes anger bubbling below the surface of the stallion's actions. How could she not? But she finds that she is not frightened of Magnus. His anger feels pure and though it runs hot, she knows he will not burn her.
What does frighten her is imagining Gryffen appearing and the events that could ensue. Magnus seems strong (she knows nothing of his background) but the white stallion is relentless. Her own body bears the marks of his wrath. The memory of his teeth ripping flesh flashes across her mind. She closes her eyes, concentrating on her breathing and willing her emotions to quit going haywire. With a shaky intake of air, she finally speaks.
“Oh Magnus.” She presses her head into his shoulder, her neck against his chest. Bitter tears dampen her face but she barely notices. “I wish I'd met you first.”
How different her world would have been if there had been a kind word awaiting her in this new place. If her first experience with the opposite sex hadn't been the brutal invasion of her body, the complete mastery of her self.
“I'm not afraid to trust you.” Minette says softly, her dark eyes shining but calm. “It's the first time I haven't been afraid of something in quite awhile. But I could never ask you to protect me, to fight Gryffen.” her voice trembles over the words. No one should suffer for where fate has brought her. It is her burden alone, she believes. “I wouldn't have you hurt for all the world. And he isn't as bad as he once was. I think, maybe, he means to change...”
She trails off, confused. As the months have gone on she has believed in Gryffen, but an inkling of doubt begins to set in. Minette had supressed so much, needed to have this closure after her ordeal with the dark god, and now she feels the things she's ignored rising up in revulsion in her chest.
“I don't know what to do. I'm terribly afraid and so tired. I feel like I haven't slept since I came back from below the earth. She speaks absently, not realizing to what she is confessing. It is a testament to her ease with Magnus that she isn't tightly hiding away her true thoughts. “I still have nightmares about that time. It felt like years, and the dark god took me apart... he remade me, too, with fire. The pain, I can still feel it sometimes. And-” her chest tightens and her words spill out with a spark of fire, though her tone is low “-Gryffen gave me over to him. I've wondered what I did to deserve the torment I suffered. But maybe, it wasn't my fault at all.”
She says the words softly, color suffusing her features, as if the sentences are blasphemy. The past Minette believed she had is being rewritten before her eyes, and it is one darker and more full of degradation than she realized. She recoils from Magnus, shame written in every line of her body. How could he even want to know her? Her skin is painted with the strokes of two sadistic artists. Perhaps the buckskin stallion will think that she is as cursed as she feels.
Minette recognizes anger bubbling below the surface of the stallion's actions. How could she not? But she finds that she is not frightened of Magnus. His anger feels pure and though it runs hot, she knows he will not burn her.
What does frighten her is imagining Gryffen appearing and the events that could ensue. Magnus seems strong (she knows nothing of his background) but the white stallion is relentless. Her own body bears the marks of his wrath. The memory of his teeth ripping flesh flashes across her mind. She closes her eyes, concentrating on her breathing and willing her emotions to quit going haywire. With a shaky intake of air, she finally speaks.
“Oh Magnus.” She presses her head into his shoulder, her neck against his chest. Bitter tears dampen her face but she barely notices. “I wish I'd met you first.”
How different her world would have been if there had been a kind word awaiting her in this new place. If her first experience with the opposite sex hadn't been the brutal invasion of her body, the complete mastery of her self.
“I'm not afraid to trust you.” Minette says softly, her dark eyes shining but calm. “It's the first time I haven't been afraid of something in quite awhile. But I could never ask you to protect me, to fight Gryffen.” her voice trembles over the words. No one should suffer for where fate has brought her. It is her burden alone, she believes. “I wouldn't have you hurt for all the world. And he isn't as bad as he once was. I think, maybe, he means to change...”
She trails off, confused. As the months have gone on she has believed in Gryffen, but an inkling of doubt begins to set in. Minette had supressed so much, needed to have this closure after her ordeal with the dark god, and now she feels the things she's ignored rising up in revulsion in her chest.
“I don't know what to do. I'm terribly afraid and so tired. I feel like I haven't slept since I came back from below the earth. She speaks absently, not realizing to what she is confessing. It is a testament to her ease with Magnus that she isn't tightly hiding away her true thoughts. “I still have nightmares about that time. It felt like years, and the dark god took me apart... he remade me, too, with fire. The pain, I can still feel it sometimes. And-” her chest tightens and her words spill out with a spark of fire, though her tone is low “-Gryffen gave me over to him. I've wondered what I did to deserve the torment I suffered. But maybe, it wasn't my fault at all.”
She says the words softly, color suffusing her features, as if the sentences are blasphemy. The past Minette believed she had is being rewritten before her eyes, and it is one darker and more full of degradation than she realized. She recoils from Magnus, shame written in every line of her body. How could he even want to know her? Her skin is painted with the strokes of two sadistic artists. Perhaps the buckskin stallion will think that she is as cursed as she feels.