Elian's body was trembling as he lay in bed next to Izan. The night was still, but his mind was anything but calm. As sleep claimed him, the nightmares began to creep in, pulling him back to a place he never wanted to return, a place of pain, of terror, of helplessness.
The dream started slowly, the edges of his memories blurring into a twisted version of reality. He was back in that dimly lit room, the air thick with the smell of sweat and the sickening scent of Lord Cedric's cologne.
His body was weak, his muscles trembling from his body already exhausted from the hours of abuse, but Lord Cedric was relentless.
Elian's skin was slick with sweat, his tears glistened in the low light.
Lord Cedric was behind him, his breath hot and damp against Elian's ear as he whispered cruelly, his voice dripping with malice.
