Chapter 21 writer's POV
Aurora sat in darkness, her violet eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that seemed to pierce through the shadows. The faint glow of candles in the distance only seemed to deepen the shadows that danced across her face, like demons whispering in her ear, fueling her rage. Chains bound her wrists and ankles, but they didn't hold her back; her spirit was unbreakable, her will unshaken.
As she gazed up at the stone ceiling, Aurora's thoughts seethed with anger and resentment, a cauldron of emotions bubbling over with fury. She remembered the freedom she once knew, the warmth of the sun on her skin, the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, and the sound of birds singing in the trees. But those memories only fueled her rage, reminding her of all that she had lost. The pain of her captivity was a festering wound, and she could feel the infection spreading, poisoning her soul.
Aurora's eyes flashed with fury as she thought of the one who had brought her to this place. She wondered if they knew the depth of her pain, if they cared that she was suffering. The thought only added to her anger, and her eyes burned with a dark intensity, like embers from a fire that refused to be extinguished. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a rhythmic drumbeat that seemed to match the cadence of her curses.
The chains that bound her seemed to mock her, a constant reminder of her captivity. But Aurora's spirit was unbroken. She seethed with a dark energy, her anger and hatred simmering just below the surface, waiting to erupt like a volcano. She was a storm brewing, a tempest that would soon unleash its fury upon the world.
As she sat in silence, Aurora's eyes never left the ceiling. She was plotting, planning, and scheming. She would escape, and she would make those who had wronged her pay. The darkness seemed to coalesce around her, a palpable force that pulsed with her rage. It was as if the shadows themselves were alive, twisting and writhing like living things, feeding off her anger.
In that moment, Aurora was a force to be reckoned with. Her anger and determination were a potent mix, and those who had imprisoned her would soon learn to fear her wrath. The chains would break, and Aurora would rise, her darkness unleashed upon the world. She would be a specter of vengeance, a ghostly figure haunting the dreams of those who had wronged her.
The darkness seemed to grow thicker, more oppressive, as if it too was waiting for the moment of her escape. Aurora's breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling with a rhythmic intensity. She was a powder keg, waiting to be ignited, and when she finally exploded, the world would tremble.
In the silence, Aurora's mind whispered a single word: "Soon." Soon she would be free, soon she would exact her revenge, and soon she would unleash her darkness upon the world. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, a thrill of anticipation that seemed to course through her very being. She was a force of nature, unstoppable and unrelenting, and those who had imprisoned her would soon learn to fear her name.