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Somewhere outside of the coffin, there was a scuffle. Ianora's eyes flew open, but all she could see through the tiny slit in the wood was darkness. Seconds later, a familiar white glow came to peer down at her.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, princess," Mitron's sorrowful voice came. "Are you all right?" The ghost paused. "No, of course, you're not. You're trapped with no way out, and it's all my fault ..."
Ianora could not speak, so instead, she willed the burning rage inside her to manifest in her eyes. Mitron shrank back at the look, fear spreading across her ghostly features like wildfire. But Ianora was only getting started. Her fury was boiling over now. She was unwilling to listen to Mitron's excuses. Had Mitron not lied and misled her, Ianora would not be trapped in this place, and instead, she would be…maybe she would still have the same fate. It was very possible that Ianora would have laid down in the coffin anyway.
"I don't expect you to ever forgive me," Mitron said, "but I swear to you, I didn't want to lie. I didn't want to trap you here. But Castor, he ... deep down somewhere still, I know he loves you still. I've seen it, through all the years I've been imprisoned here. If you can find it in your heart to forgive him for all the pain he's caused you, then you might save more than yourself. You could save all of us."
Ianora sucked in a deep breath. If she had still been capable of speech, then she might have responded with the brunt of her anger. But in the end, she could not say a thing, and Ianora wondered just how much Mitron was the one who deserved her wrath. How much of her story had been true, and how much had been concocted by Castor to tug on her heartstrings? To make her take her guard down?
There was no way to know for sure. But one thing was certain: Ianora would not be finding forgiveness in her heart anytime soon.
The next time Ianora opened her eyes, Mitron was nowhere to be found. Before long, the hours blended, and Ianora wasn't sure how much time had passed or when Castor was due. How much longer until the wedding?
Behind her closed eyelids, she saw that which was not there: her friends and family, their voices calling out to her in the darkness. She wasn't sure anymore if it was her mind playing tricks, the coffin's magic, or if she was truly going insane.
But as the seconds ticked by and Castor still hadn't arrived, Ianora began to wonder if this was truly where she would be spending the rest of eternity. It was maddening, being imprisoned in darkness with no light, the last of her hope drained away. Rather than the spell losing effectiveness over time, it only seemed to grip her body tighter, slowly taking her mind with it.
The more Ianora's senses devolved, the strangest thing happened: deep within her, she found a sense of warmth that, at first, she couldn't explain. She could sense something coming to her on the horizon, sparking the heat inside her chest. She clung to that sensation, laying the rest of her hope upon it even when all else seemed lost. The warmth seemed to come closer and closer, and then—
"You seem to have adjusted well," Castor's voice came suddenly.
Ianora blinked to find Castor's face floating in the darkness outside of the coffin. Her mouth opened, but she couldn't speak.
"Have you perhaps come to a change of heart, or will you be missing our wedding day?" Castor picked at his nails, seeming disinterested in the answer. "I would hate to disappoint our guests. I pride myself as an excellent host. Come with me now, and all will be forgiven. Refuse, and...we'll see how you feel after a year of imprisonment."
Ianora still couldn't make her throat work, couldn't shape the words to tell him what he wanted to hear, even if the answer would displease him. She couldn't go out there and marry him, nor could she broadcast her whereabouts to Johnathan. Regardless of what had happened between her and Castor before and the mistakes Ianora had made, nothing excused how Castor had treated her and her family. Or how he treated her right now.
She could not marry him.
Better to fall into a blissful sleep, unaware of the events going on in the outside world. Unable to dream, staying distant from the worries that tormented her day in and day out.
"Oh, did I forget to mention that Mitron lied about one other vital detail?" Castor said. "That whole coma-sleep was a lie. You're stuck in the coffin, sure, and you can't move, but you can think and feel the whole time. Can you survive years or an eternity trapped inside your own head?"
The coffin hissed open, and stale air whooshed inside. Her throat itched, but she couldn't cough. And when Castor reached inside again, his hands brushing ever so slightly against her breasts, a flush of inescapable heat settled in her core. Memories of the way he had used to touch her surfaced unbiddenly, the kisses they'd shared...
Although Castor was not unattractive now, in his cursed form, he had truly been something special before those gifts had been taken from him. He had made Ianora want to give in, go against tradition, and give herself to him despite not being married—despite not having any solid plans to do so.
"Or are you turned on by the prospect of being stuck here forever, turned into my little pleasure toy?" Castor chuckled low, amused, but his eyes were locked onto hers with a look of pure longing and desire. "I could cancel our big wedding plans, have a more intimate ceremony performed down here. And then I could have my way with you regardless. You're not stopping me from doing anything I want by holding out on me."
He tilted his head at her, and then tapped his hand on the edge of the coffin. All at once, Ianora's muscles relaxed, and she lifted her head with a pained cry.
"Let me out," she said. "I'll do as you ask. Just let me out. I can't stay here trapped for all eternity. Please, do as you must."
"That's the response I've been waiting for, my love." Castor's grin widened, but he didn't tap the coffin again immediately. "Promise me that you will give yourself to me willingly on our wedding night. I don't want to fight you if I don't have to. Promise me that, and you will not regret it."
Ianora first took joy in the fact that she could properly breathe again. Castor could not be trusted. He had lied to her, used her, and forced her to do everything she hated just to escape being trapped in this coffin forever. What choice did she have at this point but to agree? The cards were stacked against her.
If she stayed here, she would go insane.
If she managed to escape, she would lose her immortality and be exiled to earth.
The only option was to leave this place with Castor and pray that Johnathan would find them. Perhaps she could use him as a distraction to escape both men at once.
Finally, Ianora nodded. "I will give myself to you willingly," she said.
Castor's grin widened. "That's my love."
He tapped the coffin again, and the spell released her body entirely. Her muscles all relaxed, and she practically threw herself out of the coffin as soon as she could move. Castor caught her in his arms and bracing herself against him as she learned to walk again. She noticed the strength in his grip, the way her skin tingled wherever he touched her.
