ᴀ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇꜱ→ᴀᴄᴏᴛᴀʀ

ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ᵒⁿᵉ

┏━━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━━┓
                 
            dirty little secret           
       
┗━━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━━┛

She tugged the fabric of the dress she was wearing, her aunt had chosen a rather revealing dress, whether to shame her now growing belly, to deem her a whore or to appease as well as shock her suitors, she did not know.
She decided on both.

There came both pros and cons to her pregnancy, the cons overweighting the pros; the pros being having to be a mother, to bring an innocent child to life, for her kind children were rare, precious.  It triggered the instinct of both males and females around her to protect the child, no matter how terrible excuse of a Fae they were, it was ingrained in them to protect the vulnerable, the weak unborn child and the one who bore it.

And the Cauldron knew she was damn grateful for that.

Although she had the outmost displeasure to know a few bastards who didn't give a damn if that didn't benefit them. Ones who would kill her with her child if it would tarnish their reputation, they would burn her alive with those scorching yet cold shadow flames from inside out till what is left of her is just dust of bones, melted organs  with a puddle of blood. Just the thought of it was enough to give her shudders.

Of course, one such example of these 'bastards' was her uncle, Vernon.

Rage filled her as she recalled what happened just a few hours prior; her aunt found out about her child, and took her to the pathetic excuse of a male, someone she shared her blood with.

*.｡*✧*。˖*.✧∘˚˳°～｡☆━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾉ*.✧*｡*ﾟ+☆

Her aunt's painted nails dug into the soft flesh of her wrist, her cold rings that adorned her fingers a dull gold, her grip tight enough to leave a bruise. Her luxurious navy blue, embroidered gold dress flowing behind her in a trail that would've left the other ladies jealous. A thick gold necklace rested on her neck and ample assets, bounced as she walked, rushed to her husband. Her hair curled up in a elaborate hairdo twisted to the back of her head in a loose bun with a bejeweled clip to finish the look. Her heels, click-clacked against the black marble, both weapon of confidence and impractical in use.

Her face drawn into an snarl, daring anyone to oppose her as she led her niece to the dungeons, to Lord Vernon's study, to her husband's dreaded torture chambers.

One of her maids had outed her secret, and oh she made sure to relished her slow kill before she fell into the same fate. It was one of the rare times she knew her blood ran true and cruel.

Cauldron, if she had been born a male she would have been leading the Legion of Deathbringers under Lord Keir. That was her birthright and her skills and power sure made it fair for her to do so.

She didn't necessarily regret being born female either, she loved herself. No, she wasn't a narcissist but most people who knew her, or thought they did would disagree. It didn't help she was surrounded by scum. She knew she was beautiful and lethal, it wasn't her fault that other people had bad taste or were just simply envious.

She blamed those scum for being sexist, it disgusted her that they saw her as a well breed mare for sale. If they were gonna price her, at least make her so expensive that their pockets hurt for the rest of their useless long immortal lives.

She didn't worry much for herself, she was too busy for that and much valuable without a scratch and alive. But she now, for the first time in her immortal years she had someone to worry about, to care for. And she wasn't the one to disappoint.