The Daughters of Merlin

Grace shifted, being uncomfortable. However, as she did this, she became aware of the fact that she was laying on cold stone. By moving her arms, Grace heard the rattling of chains and felt something cold around her wrists.

Grace opened her eyes, turning her head to look at her hand. Someone had placed a leather glove on it, wrapping a manacle around her wrist which was attached to a stone wall. She lifted her head and saw that she was in a 20′ by 20′ stone room. On one wall, nine feet up, was a small 3′ by 3′ window. Grace looked at her other hand and saw that it too was chained and gloved. She looked down at her feet and saw someone had also placed leather socks over them. She had no way to use her water magic.

Grace tried to speak but found that she couldn’t. It was almost just like when she and Merlin had found Zana.

Before Grace could fully begin to panic, she heard a lock click coming from a door she noticed at the other end of the room. The door swung open partly allowing none other than Mordred to enter the room, upon which he closed the door behind him once he was inside before turning to face the chained, silent, and scared girl.

Grace mouthed his name once he turned to face her, her brows furrowed in confusion. What’s going on?

Mordred chuckled as he walked over to her, kneeling down on one knee beside her. “I kidnapped you. I thought of killing Virgil since he was right there, but I didn’t want your family to catch me and spoil all the fun.”

Mordred reached his hand out to caress her face but Grace pulled away. His eyes narrowed, no longer seeming friendly and comforting. He forcefully grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him even as she struggled to get away though it was no use. Tears began to fall down her cheeks.

“Oh, come on now. There’s no need to cry.” Mordred said through clenched teeth, still smiling. His eyes lit up as he came up with an idea. “Hey, there’s something I want to show you. I think you’re going to like it.”

Grace’s eyes widened in horror as Mordred’s strawberry blonde hair turned black, starting at the roots until every strand was completely black. Then the scleras of his eyes became black as well, his irises becoming violet. When he smiled at Grace’s horrified expression, he revealed his mouth to be full of fangs. He laughed darkly when Grace tried in vain to get away from him.

Mordred grabbed her legs, placing them on either side of him before he pulled her roughly forward as far as the chains would allow her to go, causing the back of her head to hit the stone quickly, making her vision go blurry. She fought to stay conscious however, hoping that maybe . . . Grace didn’t know what she was hoping for but she did know that she couldn’t let herself fall unconscious.

Mordred pinned her legs in place by kneeling on them. He leaned over her, his violet eyes full of hunger, looking like a predator about to strike his prey. Grace turned her face away when Mordred ran his hand down her cheek before his hand ran down her neck, over her dress and to her corset. He then began to undo the strings.

“There’s no need to be so scared, Grace. Mother said that it only hurts the first time. Besides, I’m sure it’ll feel much better than whatever Mother has planned for you.” Mordred looked down at Grace slightly with pity as he pulled her corset apart.

Grace turned to look at Mordred as he gripped the collar of her dress with both of his hands, her curiosity temporarily overcoming her fear. She mouthed her question once she saw that she had Mordred’s attention. Mother?

Mordred chuckled, and with a single loud rip, he ripped her dress in half, revealing her small breasts. “My, you really are naive.”

Mordred leaned down so that his face was only a few inches above hers. With one hand, he squeezed her breast hard enough to cause her to wince while with his other hand, he began to pull down her slip. “My full name is Mordred le Fey. I had a whole fake last name had you actually asked what it was before. But you didn’t; you believed me right away.”

Mordred sat up so he could pull her slip all the way off. Grace didn’t fight against him, knowing that it would be pointless to do so anyways. Nor did Grace fight against the tears that gathered and fell down her cheeks.

Mordred undid his pants and pulled down his breeches. Then he repositioned himself in between Grace’s legs, lifting them up and running his hands up them.

“And dear Mother was so gracious when, upon asking, she said that I could do whatever I wanted to you for a whole hour. And trust me . . . I intend to make the most of it.”