The Lord of the sins

Freya's eyes opened and slowly adjusted to the room's brightness. She squinted and tried to get up from the cold floor where she lay, her head hammering like a train was running through it. She felt weak-weaker than she had been in her entire life. And the worst thing was that she barely remembered anything that happened. Or how she got in the...

She suddenly flinched when she felt something crawling up her skin and her eyes got completely open.

"Argh!" Freya jumped off the floor as she saw the "thing" in question was a snake. It was very tiny but she had seen so much in her life to judge anything by their size. That thing could kill her with just a single strike for all she knew.

She was so distracted by the snake crawling towards her that she didn't bother to look around the room and find out where she was. Eventually, she discovered that she was not alone when she heard someone sigh.

Freya immediately forgot about the snake and raised her head to look at the entrance to the cold room she was in. She gasped in disbelief when her eyes fell on the sight before her. Freya felt her heart skip beats and her body go limp as she stared at the God sitting on a chair close to the door-no! "God" was not the best word to describe him.

The man-whoever he was-was so damn good-looking. No! Good-looking is an even worse understatement. He was a thousand times more beautiful than all of the celebrities and men she had ever seen in her life. He was tall, his charcoal-dark hair was scattered and swept to the left side of his face. He had a strongly-defined masculine jawline and dark eyes that held no emotions in them, and he didn't blink for even a second as his evil-looking eyes behold hers.

Freya wanted to speak but found the words hanging in her throat. Somehow, the God in the room looked and had an even more frightening effect on her than the snake which she had completely forgotten about.

"What are you?" his soft and yet terrifying voice sent a shock wave through her body.

Freya wasn't sure how to answer the question-wasn't sure why he used "what" and not "who". His voice was like ice water pouring over her in the already cold room. "I-"

He got up from the chair and started to approach her with slow and careful steps. Freya's heartbeat increased its pace in fear as she saw his muscular and fine body features and his long fingers which she imagined running over her skin...

Freya completely lost her breath as his height leaned over hers. She heard him sigh before she felt the coldness of his hands on her skin.

"Aah," she moaned before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened in shock and she suddenly used her hands to cover her mouth. She didn't know why she felt so afraid and oddly comforted with his presence at the same time. Somehow, she didn't care what happened or his intention with her. Even if it turned out that she'd been kidnapped; she would be more than happy since her abductor was a devilish-handsome demi-god.

His long fingers which she deeply idolised raised up her chin so she was staring eye-to-eye with him. But she immediately averted her gaze due to a sudden feeling in her stomach.

"Look at me." His tone was harsh, impatient and demanding... but still she felt some sort of silenced undertone in it-like he was pleading with her to obey him.

Without her will, she found herself obeying and looking straight at his dark eyes in the next minute.

His gaze didn't waver or divert, and his eyes certainly didn't move downwards. His index finger was still on her cheeks, and he wasn't saying anything or emitting a single emotion from his face.

At last, he let go of her cheeks and sighed before turning back and walking to the door.

Freya didn't have any idea of what was happening, or the kind of mess she was in. The last thing she remembered was going to buy foodstuffs for her and her brother who was sixteen, five years younger than her.

"W-who are... you? And... where am I?" she stammered, her sense of reasoning suddenly returning.

He stopped just as his hands touched the gate which led out of wherever she was. He slowly turned to look at her, his expression as blank as dying in your sleep.

"Just hope you're not what I see in your eyes... or your death is going to be more pleasurable than the others." He disappeared after that, not seeming to lock the gate.

Freya died a thousand deaths after he left. For minutes, she stood frozen in place as she looked at where he had been sitting like she could still see him there.

"Oh my God," she said, crashing to the cold floor. "What is this?"

Strangely, even after everything that happened, Freya still wasn't scared of the situation on ground. She was only thinking about her brother and how he would react and cope with life if she never goes back to him.

Freya's heart broke at the thought of that. That man-the handsome devil in human form who had tortured her with just his touch, had said her death would be more pleasurable than that of the others if she was what he saw in her eyes. Which brought her to the question: WHAT WAS IT THAT HE SAW IN HER EYES?

Freya soon realised that she was worrying about the wrong thing. Her survival instincts were screaming and warning her to get out of wherever she was before it became too late. But how?

Her gaze travelled to the door, and she remembered that he hadn't seemed to lock it. Without thinking, she jumped off the floor and scurried over to the iron bar door.

Freya's impatient yet nervous hands stretched to the other side and she found that it was indeed unlocked. Her heart jumped in relief and she felt some of the weight on her chest gone as she opened the door and stepped out of the room. She gently closed the door behind her and stared at her surroundings.

She was in a dark and long hall-way which was dimly illuminated by fire bulbs from the start to the end. The wall in front of her was made of strong-looking brown bricks, and she only discovered that she was in a mediaeval building when she saw the ancient marks on the ground.

Freya's heartbeat increased its pace at that moment. The hall-way was quiet to the extent that she could hear her breathing, and it held some sort of forbidden aura in the air. Freya was starting to think getting out of the room was a bad idea. But what choice does she have?

She looked left and right of the hall-way and decided to go right since her instinct found it friendlier. Her walk was fast yet careful and cautious, and she occasionally looked back to see if she was being followed. The hall-way went forever, and Freya was really starting to regret going out. At that moment, she realised that she had left the room not more than seven minutes after he left. So how come the long hall-way was empty? Could he have reached the end in such a short time? Or maybe he went to the left?

She crashed to the hard floor and rested her head to the wall behind her. Maybe he had indeed gone to the left. But why did she care so much about where he went? Wasn't she supposed to be happy that he wasn't around to stop her? And that was when realisation came crashing on her at once. He had simply closed the door and not shut it even when there was a key.

Freya suddenly felt like a fool. She shut her eyes and cursed in frustration. He must have wanted her to get out. Did she really think that he forgot to lock the door?

"No, he didn't."

Freya flinched and her eyes flew open before she jumped off the ground. She started to run towards the direction she came from without bothering to look at the owner of the voice she heard, but she saw with dismay that a figure was standing not less than seven feets away from her. Freya turned to look behind her and saw there was nobody there. She gasped in shock as realisation dawned on her. The person who had spoken to her and who was supposed to be behind her was miraculously in front of her!

"H-how did you..." she stammered, her expression bedridden in shock.

"You could say I was bitten by a cheetah," returned the feminine voice. And that was when Freya saw her face. She swallowed her saliva in nervousness as she looked at the lady in front of her.

She was beautiful, Freya noticed. She was about the same height as Freya or a little taller and had long black hair which stopped some inches away from her chest. She was dressed in an all-black warrior-like attire, which complemented her fair skin and made her look like a goddess. Nora was beginning to wonder if it was just her imagination or everybody around here was beautiful.

"The Lord's gonna love this," said the fair goddess before she walked over to Nora and looked her straight in the eyes.

Nora tried to divert her gaze-tried really hard-but it wasn't working. She felt like she was under a spell as the fair goddess searched her brown eyes with her golden ones like she could see through her. Finally, the fair goddess shifted her attention from Freya's eyes and she was able to move her head again.

Freya panted like a person who has been running and asked angrily since she couldn't hold her patience any longer: "What the f*ck are you people? And why the hell am I here?"

The fair goddess shifted her attention back to Freya and snapped her fingers in her face.

Suddenly, Freya saw herself kneeling in a large room with high-hanging chandeliers and magnificent lights. She gasped in shock and looked around her in disbelief. It turns out that she was in a room as big as half of a football field, and there were hundreds-maybe even thousands-of people staring at her.

Her heart sank down to her bottom and she anxiously started to stand from where she knelt to find the fair goddess and ask what was happening.

"Don't!"

Freya felt her whole body freeze in fear and she immediately looked up to see the owner of the voice. It was him of course-the man who promised her a pleasurable death. But there was something more: he looked uncomfortable and was dressed in a way that suggested marriage. And when Freya looked at herself, she saw that she was wearing a wedding gown.

"We've gathered here once again for the wedding of our lovely Lord-"

A single glance from the Lord sent the priest or whoever he was running to the back of the wooden table on the altar.

"Er..." said the priest from his place of protection. "W-what I was trying to say is that-today is our L-lord's wedding day. And the bride may come up now."

The 'Lord' then looked down at a very shocked and scared-looking Freya and outstretched his hands to her.

Freya felt her heart beating faster than possible as she stared at his outstretched hand. The large room was filled with people looking at her with stern and pitiful expressions on their faces.

She raised up her head and looked at his face, and noticed with scepticism that he didn't seem stressed or impatient in the least-like this was his daily routine.

What was happening? Could she be dreaming? Was this some kind of joke someone she knew had plotted? But when Freya looked around for perhaps the third time, she realised that the last one could not be true. She didn't know anybody who could manage to convince hundreds of people to help them portray a joke. And she was wearing a freaking wedding gown! What was really going on here?

Freya was drawn out of her thoughts when she felt someone drag her off from the ground with force. In the next moment, she was staring at his dark eyes with her legs going weak and fragile under her.

"Don't make me wait, or you're going to regret it," his voice was twice as harsh as Freya remembered.

She trembled at that moment and only managed to calm down after reassuring herself that this was all a bad dream that she was soon going to wake up from.

The Lord then shifted his gaze to the Priest and he came back to standing in front of the table. The priest blesses the couples' union and starts to ask while inadvertently avoiding the Lord's gaze: "Lord Dra-" he pauses from a groan from the Lord, and Freya immediately gets a hold on the fact that "The Lord" didn't want the priest to mention his name.

The priest shifted uncomfortably in his long robe and cleared his throat for the third time. "My Lord... do you take my Lady as your-"

"I do." His cold voice was really impatient this time.

Freya looked at him with the corner of her eyes, her heart hammering in her ribcage. Why was he so pissed and angry about the situation? Isn't she supposed to be the angry one since she's being forced into something like...

"My lady!" the voice of the priest resonated in her ears, and from his tone she knew this wasn't the first time he called her.

"I-I'm sorry." Freya looked at the Lord as she apologised, but his attention was focused elsewhere with the usual unreadable expression on his forbiddenly-handsome face.

The priest looked really stressed as he continued. "Do you take my Lord as your-"

"I do," Freya replied before she could stop herself.

A shock gasp escaped from the lips of everybody in the large room. And it seemed they were all thinking the same thing: Where did she get the guts to answer without letting the priest finish just because the Lord did that?

Freya felt the weight of her actions on her shoulders even before she could look around at the people in the room. She was really scared now-more scared than she had been since all of these started. And the reason she was so scared was because she knew the Lord would be furious at what she did. But surprisingly, when she took a glance at his face, she saw that he was smiling-though the smile didn't reach his eyes and he still wasn't looking at her.

"O-okay, then," said the priest when he saw that the Lord didn't react to her actions. "My Lord, you may now kiss the bride."

Freya stilled herself as she heard those words, since she had attended weddings before and knew that was the next thing. It wouldn't be her first time if he kissed her, so she couldn't understand why her heart raced at the thought of his lips on hers. She waited for him to make the first move, even moving closer like she was being possessed and completely forgot that there were hundreds of eager and anxious eyes watching their every move.

The Lord leaned in slowly and lowered his head with his lingering blank expression. Freya shut her eyes as she waited for it, so aroused by his appearance that his kissing her felt very normal to her brain. One second passed... then two... and three, but she still didn't feel anything.

It was only after a gasp from someone that she opened her eyes and saw that he was walking down the altar to the aisle.

Freya's mouth opened in shock. She knew she was supposed to feel relieved and happy that he didn't bother to kiss her but a part of her heart was burning in pain and irritation.

"E-erm..." the Priest stammered, like he too could hardly believe what just happened. "May the dance begin."

Suddenly, there was a slow and sensual music being played by a band Freya had not noticed before. The Lord-or her now Husband-was nowhere to be found. Weren't they both supposed to begin the dance before the other people joined?

Soon, the people started to leave their seats without paying any attention to the forsaken bride on the altar, their face smeared in pity. Two ladies who seemed like her bridesmaid walked over to the altar and helped her climb down.

"W-what is happening, please?" Freya asked as soon as she was down. "Can you both explain what's going on?"

They looked at her with widened eyes and bowed with apologetic looks on their faces like they weren't allowed to speak to her.

"Okay, then." Freya didn't want to put them in trouble by forcing them to speak. "At least, can you both take me to my hus-"

Freya caught sight of a handsome new guy dressed like royalty approaching her. At the sight of him, the two bridesmaids nodded their heads and rushed away.

"Pleasure to meet you, my lady," he said with a smile and raised her right hand to kiss her knuckles. "I'm Lord Ethan."

Freya studied the man in front of her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a small but perfectly carved head and posture that screamed of confidence. "L-lord?"

Lord Ethan flushed. "Not much of a title. You can call me Ethan if you want."

Freya nodded slowly, letting the information sink into her brain. "I-I don't know what to say."

Lord Ethan smiled, not looking uncomfortable like Freya had expected. "Do you care for a dance, my lady?"

Freya studied him once again. He looked very nice and behaved well just like his face, but she still felt like she should dance with The Lord first. But then she reasoned she might have the opportunity to get answers from him if they were dancing. So she answered in the affirmative.

Lord Ethan didn't say another word and led her to the wide dance floor where a more slow waltz song was playing. They started moving slowly to the music, Freya stepping on his feet in less than six seconds since she wasn't experienced. But Lord Ethan didn't mind and lightly complimented on how pretty she was. As they danced, Freya thought of what questions to ask first. She was aware that they were being watched by many people, including some that were dancing.

"What's bothering you, my lady?" asked Lord Ethan when he noticed she was stepping on his legs more frequently.

"I-I... What is this place?" she asked.

His brow creased for a moment, and then his expression came back to normal. "I'm guessing you're not from here. How were you picked to be Lord... I mean-to be The Lord's bride?"

Freya clearly saw it in his eyes-the fear that crossed when he almost mentioned her husband's name. "He doesn't have a name?"

"Who?" asked Lord Ethan like he honestly didn't know who she was talking about.

"My husband," replied Freya, just before he took her waist and raised her to the air.

"He does have a name. But it's against our culture to let the bride know before he told her himself."

"Okay." Freya knew he was lying, but didn't want to pry further. "About your other question: you were very right when you guessed that I'm not from here. I actually woke up and found myself in a room with him-and then he left and I came out and somehow found myself on the altar with a wedding dress. Can you tell me what's going on?" Freya felt the gaze of a different person poking on her skin even before she could finish speaking, and she knew who it was even though there were quite a large number of dancing people.

"I don't know how-" Lord Ethan started to say but was suddenly cut off by someone.

"Thank you for keeping her company, Ethan. Now, can I have my bride to myself?" his voice sent a shiver down Freya's spine, and for a second she thought he didn't like Lord Ethan.

Lord Ethan immediately backed-off and released Freya's hands. "Of course, my Lord." Then he turned to look at Freya's pale face. "It was nice meeting you, my Lady. And thank you for the dance."

"The Lord" mentioned something under his breath as Lord Ethan left. Then he suddenly grabbed Freya's hands and said: "Come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Freya stood her ground, looking up at his blank face.

Something flashed past his eyes as he heard her. "You really have some guts, don't you?"

"Well, I don't care what this is. I don't care why I'm in a wedding gown and why I'm being treated like I chose this. You could kill me if you want. But I'm not-"

"Is this about the kiss, my Lady?" he asked, sounding amused.

Freya wanted the ground to open up and swallow her at that moment. Her face went scarlet red and she almost forgot the other reason why she was angry. "Why should I care about the fact that you didn't kiss me? I barely know you and-"

"Right." That was all he said before he gently grabbed her waist and crushed his lips on hers.