His Anticipation

Chapter 4

Third POV

Solas stood at the center of his chamber, his pale blue eyes fixed on the reflection of the moon in the small pond before him. The water’s surface shimmered with an otherworldly glow, the moonlight dancing upon it in an eerie, mesmerizing pattern. This pond was his anchor, his connection to the moon and the source of his power. The open ceiling above it allowed the moon’s light to filter down, enhancing his abilities and giving him strength. He traced patterns in the water with his fingers, feeling the potent energy thrumming beneath his skin.

Over the past decade, Solas had grown more powerful, his magic evolving in ways he had not anticipated. The ancient runes that once held his power in check had weakened significantly, and the spell that bound him to the cave was beginning to fray. He could feel the change in the air, the subtle shift in the balance of magic. It would not be long before he could break free of this prison and reclaim the world that had been denied to him.

Solas had spent centuries honing his skills, manipulating the elements with a mere thought. He summoned storms with a thought, lightning crackling at his fingertips. He commanded the tides, causing the seas to swell and crash with fury. He had even begun to tamper with the cycle of the moon, altering its phases to suit his whims. The villagers had noticed the irregularities, the unpredictable shifts in the lunar calendar, but they had no idea that it was Solas who was responsible.

The last decade had been particularly fruitful for Solas. He had experimented with new forms of magic, pushing the boundaries of what he could achieve. The moon was his greatest ally and his most formidable weapon. Its light infused him with strength, and through it, he learned to bend reality to his will. Solas had learned to control shadows, to cloak himself in darkness and move unseen. He could channel the moon’s energy into devastating blasts, capable of obliterating anything in his path. His power was unmatched, and the thought of his impending freedom filled him with a dark, thrilling anticipation.

Tonight was the night of the bride offering, a tradition that had become a dark amusement for Solas. Every decade, the villagers would send a young woman into the cave, hoping to appease him and prevent their destruction. It was a futile gesture, one that Solas found endlessly entertaining. He took pleasure in the fear and desperation that drove the villagers to sacrifice their own.

As the night wore on, Solas waited patiently, his anticipation growing with each passing moment. He sat on the edge of the pond, his fingers still trailing through the cool water. The reflection of the moon seemed to pulse with his power, and he could feel the magic coursing through his veins.

He thought of the brides that had come before, each one meeting a grisly end at his hands. They had all been terrified, their fear palpable and intoxicating. Solas had reveled in their screams, their futile attempts to escape. But this time would be different. This would be the last bride, for his power had grown to the point where he no longer needed the sacrifices. Soon, he would break free, and there would be no more offerings. No more appeasement. Only his unrelenting vengeance.

The anticipation was almost unbearable. Solas could feel his magic surging, the power within him straining against the bonds that held him. He could sense the villagers outside the cave, their fear and anxiety like a bitter perfume. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of their desperation.

And then, he felt her presence. It was faint at first, a delicate whisper on the edge of his consciousness. But as she drew closer, the sensation grew stronger, until it was a tangible force that wrapped around him like a shroud. Solas’s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding with excitement. This was it. The final bride has arrived.

But something was different. Her aura was unlike any he had encountered before. It was strong, resilient, with an undercurrent of defiance that intrigued him. There was no overwhelming fear, no palpable terror. Instead, there was a quiet determination, a strength that both fascinated and frustrated him.

Solas’s amusement turned to curiosity. Who was this woman who dared to defy him? He found himself eager to meet her, to see the face of the one who would be his final victim. He imagined the moment, the look of defiance in her eyes as she realized her fate. It would be a fitting end to this charade.

He waited, his senses attuned to every movement, every sound. The cave was silent, the air thick with anticipation. He could hear the soft rustle of fabric, the quiet footsteps echoing in the darkness. She was close, so close. Solas resisted the urge to go to her, to drag her into his chamber and see her for himself. No, he would wait. He wanted her to come to him, to see the realization dawn in her eyes.

As the minutes ticked by, the tension grew. Solas could feel his magic thrumming beneath his skin, the power eager to be unleashed. He was like a coiled spring, ready to snap. And then, he caught a whiff of her scent—a mouthwatering fragrance that made his blood race. It was a perfect blend of earthy, flowery notes with the sweet essence of the moon. It was intoxicating, unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Solas’s heart pounded in his chest as the door to his chamber slowly creaked open. The light from the moon illuminated the entrance, casting a soft glow on the figure standing in the doorway. He felt a surge of excitement, his curiosity piqued by the enigma that was his final bride.

The door swung open, and Solas’s eyes fixed on the silhouette in the doorway. The anticipation was almost unbearable, his breath catching in his throat as he waited to see her face. But he would not move, not yet. He wanted to savor this moment, to draw out the suspense for as long as possible, to give her hope and then snatch it. 

The figure stepped into the chamber, her presence filling the space with an energy that was both alluring and unsettling. Solas could feel his heart racing, his magic thrumming with anticipation. This was it. The final act of the centuries-old ritual was about to begin.

And then, the door closed behind her, sealing them both in the chamber. Solas felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine as he prepared to meet his final bride, the one who would end this ritual. 

The chamber fell silent, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric as she moved. Solas remained still, his eyes fixed on the shadowy figure before him. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the tension thick in the air. He could feel his magic surging, reacting to her presence, the power within him eager to be unleashed and kill her like all the ones before her.