Princess | Riven (Fate: Winx Saga)

Act Two: Chapter 4

Hello and welcome back again!

By the way, guys, I know this is super cheeky of me to ask, but is anyone interested in creating a better cover for this book? I was really lazy with my one and I'll be completely honest, I can't be bothered to try and improve it. So yeah, no pressure or anything but if you want to, I'd really appreciate it!!

Anyways, enjoy!

After Rosalind and Andreas' visit yesterday, Mor had been silent.
Even when Riven walked in for his guard shift the next day, she wouldn't - couldn't - speak a word. He had tried to get her to talk about what had happened, but he soon gave up when he realised she wasn't going to say anything.

Eventually, Morrigan had drifted off to a fitful sleep, as she hadn't slept at all the previous night, the images of Andreas' fists flying at Rowan still all too clear and sharp in her mind.

However, she must've only been asleep for a couple of hours, if that, for when she woke with a jolt, Riven was still standing at the wall - the perfect guard dog.

Sitting up, Morrigan raked a hand through her hair, inhaling deeply as she shrugged off the remaining grip that sleep had on her. That was how it worked now: whenever she slept, she would only really manage to claim a few hours or so before her body lurched awake. Usually, she woke because of dreams, or because she grew too uncomfortable on the bed.

But this time... this time she woke up because of something else.

A heavy weight seemed to push down on her chest, and her head felt all too crowded, too fuzzy, too loud. There was an overwhelmingly foreboding sense that flooded her veins, fuelling her adrenaline and sparking her nerves. Exhaling shakily, Mor's legs began to shake as she pushed herself to her feet, needing to walk around.

With a hand pressed to her chest as if it would relieve the pressure, she paced about her cell, trying to figure out what was wrong. It felt like the sense she'd get whenever a Burned One was close by, but that was impossible.... wasn't it?

"Pri- uh, Morrigan?" Riven corrected himself as he walked over to the cell, brow furrowed at her actions, "Are you ok?"

All of a sudden, her magic surged like a tsunami against her walls, and the pressure dragged her to her knees as she groaned, clutching her head.

"Morrigan!" Riven exclaimed, lunging forwards and trying to grab her through the bars, "What's happening?"

She couldn't speak. She couldn't even think of the words to say.
Her head felt like it was about to burst as her powers thrashed against the grip of the barbed cuffs, desperate to be set loose.

Wrong... A voice in her head seemed to hiss, something is wrong. So wrong.

"Hey, darling, please," Riven begged, his voice rising as panic clutched him, "Mor, talk to me! What's going on?"

All she could do was groan in response, the pressure becoming so great that the corners of her vision was blurring and and tears spilled from her eyes.

"Morrigan, I'm going to need you to get up." A new voice demanded.

Rosalind.

She hadn't even registered the sound of the stone door grinding open. Desperately, Mor tried to sit up, but a particularly strong wave of her magic crippled her again.

"Can't you see she's in pain?" Riven snarled, "What the hell is happening?"

"Quiet." The woman barked, before glaring down at Mor's crumpled body, "Morrigan. On your feet. Now."