Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Chapter Eighty Five

A/N -- The song ya'll... it's so intense, I love it. Listen if you will. Editing will come later.

*some graphic content --proceed with caution*

The cell door opened. Rhalla Gwenneth was chained in the middle of the room, hands above her head. Her eyes were full of hell as she eyed her new visitor. Baron Riasion breezed in. Her weapons and armor had been taken away from her. She was now suited in white, transparent silks, and gods, did they look out of place. It hardly mattered. He'd done it to make a point. He looked her over, top to bottom.

"It's been a long time, little Cricket," he finally said. "The better part of two decades. I suppose you're not so little anymore, are you?"

Rhalla didn't humor him with an answer.

"You hardly look like yourself under all that muscle, you know? Packed on like some kind of ox. Oh girl, what have you done to yourself?" He stopped. "But it is you. Look at you. There's no way someone with your musculature would have breasts like that. Not naturally. Still round, still in their place. No, those are the modifications I had my medics add to you --to make you better. It's nice to see how well the material works in the long run, even when combated with your body type. You must like what I've done to you --you even kept the piercings." He dared poke one of the silver rings hanging from the peak of one of her breasts, to taunt her. "Added some to your eyebrow, even. And then," he pulled both bolts of the garment to the sides, revealing her chest. The baron ran his hands over her bare curves, and then moved down to the small tattoo right on her rib. 323, it read. "Cricket was number 323. So you must be the esteemed Rhalla." He grinned and stepped away, not bothering to cover her back up. "Welcome home, princess."

Rhalla had expected to be broken by this point. The moment they'd captured her, she'd expected to have an episode. When they'd stuck her in a cell, she'd prepared for it. But it hadn't happened. Right now, while she was fucking angry, she still had her wits about her. And now she stared down hell and kept a straight face. She drew strength from herself. If she could escape this place at thirteen; she could do it again. She would never stop trying. This time, she would not give into her fate.

"Look at that lovely face," Riasion went on. "Once you get your hair back and lose some of that muscle, you'll be as exquisite as a flower. A tall goddess. We'll have to cover up those tattoos, of course."

Rhalla raised a brow.

"You're quiet," the baron commented. "Nothing to say, then?"

She pursed her mouth, and didn't even look at him. She tried not to focus on the air permeating her thin clothes. She also tried to not focus on how absolutely exposed she was. Finally, she shut her eyes.

"No?" he asked. "Perhaps you'll have more to say to Miss Azabela. I've have my captain bring her in to you once he returns here." This caused Hench to look. "I hear she's beautiful and wild. Impossible to tame. I suppose I'll have that tested. I suppose you'll watch. Perhaps I'll let Dane watch."

Fury pounded in Rhalla's heart. It was the first emotion apparent on her face. That satisfied the baron. Seeing the pain in her eyes, he clutched her chin with a withered hand. "And then there's your sister." The baron stepped back and kicked a lever on the ground. The chains spun, turning Rhalla around. She tried to resist, but the wrought iron won. "Beautiful Iris. But she's so dangerous, isn't she? I had to hire someone special for her..." The baron undid the fabric at Rhalla's back. The gown fluttered to the floor, leaving her completely nude. "...a special assassin. A killer of kings. A ghost, in all regards. The most renowned murderer in Eldia --even beyond Eldia. How long do you bet it'll take before her heart stops beating?"