WARNINGS: graphic description of murder, attempted rape, swearing, violence, possible triggers.

In case anyone is interested, here is a spotify playlist of the music I use for inspiration while writing this story. I'm still adding to it. If you have suggestions, lay them on me!
playlist/7xoEb6SXX5efykDSyWFG1K?si=icvYPlTeRBO35Szz5f-ZOw

Ch. 4 A Father's Love (Part 2)

Rhea stares at herself in the mirror, lost in thought. She is wearing an elegant ball gown of gold satin. Her shoulders are bare, and an uncomfortable amount of cleavage is showing due to the dress' sweetheart neckline. The dress is form fitting down to her waist, with a corset back, which she had needed a servant's help to tie. Below the waist the dress billowed out into a natural A-line skirt, and the bottom was hemmed just shy of the floor. The entire length of the dress is embroidered with an intricate floral and vine pattern, done in yellow thread. Her dress boots had an uncomfortably high heel, and she feels unsteady. Rhea's curls are washed and pulled into a simple half updo. They spill over her bare shoulders and back in beautiful waves. Her only jewelry is a gold chain necklace, with a gorgeous white moonstone pendant. Her father had wanted her to wear something nicer, but this necklace was her mother's. Rheas knows she is supposed to feel beautiful and elegant, but she only feels a quiet dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She isn't afforded anymore time to think however, as she hears her father call for her from downstairs. It's time to go.

Rhea makes her way carefully down the wooden steps and into the foyer. Her father is waiting for her at the door, jacket in hand. Riley is probably still hiding out in her room. She hadn't spoken to Rhea since her outburst this morning. Wyatt looks up as she enters the room, and the wide-eyed shock displayed on his face immediately puts her on edge. Wyatt's eyes take on a rather disturbing glaze for a moment, and then he shakes his head and clears his throat, and the look is gone.

"What is it? Why did you look at me like that?"

"It's nothing. You just, look like your mother more than ever, dressed that way."

"Don't talk about mother. Ever."

Wyatt and Rhea glare heatedly at each other for several long moments. Until an impatient whinny from the carriage horses outside breaks up the silent war. Wyatt hands Rhea her coat, which she shrugs on, and holds the door open for her. Rhea steps into the chilly night air and makes her way to the carriage without a word. Wyatt climbs in after her. The journey to the concert hall is spent in complete silence, and every so often Rhea can feel her father's unnerving stare.

A young cadet, no doubt fresh out of training, if the nervous air about him is anything to go by, takes her and her father's coats as they step into the concert hall. Wyatt holds his arm out for her, and Rhea takes it obediently and allows him to lead her from the foyer and into the main hall. Everything, from the high vaulted ceilings, to the gilded walls and rich oak furniture, down to the polished marble floors, reeks of opulence and pomp. Against the back wall, the orchestra plays an upbeat, fast tempo symphony. People mill about the hall, dressed to the nines, and filling the room with gossip and ridiculous flim-flam.

Even the military police and the garrison partake in the frivolity as she watches them down one glass after another of wine and other spirits. The military ball, which is hosted by a different civilian representative each year, is meant to be a place for the military to secure funding for their branches, by indulging the whims of the wall's wealthiest and most noble families. Judging by their flushed faces and carefree attitude, the MP and the garrison have no worries about where their funding will come from. The scouts are a stark contrast to the rest of the hall. They are all banded together in one corner of the room, faces serious and looking totally out of place.

Rhea catches the gaze of a towering, golden haired scout with striking sky-blue eyes and the craziest eyebrows she has ever seen, standing stiffly next to Commander Keith Shadis. The young blonde's eyes are intense, burning with determination, and Rhea must work to suppress the sudden chill that runs through her veins. That man will be the next commander of the scouts, she has no doubt.

Rhea is pulled from her musing by a tug on her arm. She breaks her gaze from the fierce-eyed scout and turns to see who her father is speaking to. She recognizes the man as Section Commander, Major Elias Parker. He oversees the Karenes district military police. Elias is tall and wiry, with thin graying hair, and beady gray eyes.

"Rhea, this is Major Parker. Elias, this is my daughter. She will take over the family business when I retire. I thought it was time she be introduced to the social aspect of our business."

Elias grins and extends his hand to greet her.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you my dear. Let me introduce you to my son. He should be around here somewhere. Ah! There you are my boy! Come, I want you to meet Mr. Vaughn's daughter."

Rhea stifles a gasp as the major's son joins him at his side.

"This is my son, Emmett. I am proud to say he has just recently been promoted to captain. Emmett, this is Rhea Vaughn."

Emmett extends his hand to her, but she is too stunned to return his gesture, until she feels a sharp nudge in her side. Rhea thrusts her hand out awkwardly, and Emmett surprises her by taking the hand and pressing a small, chaste kiss to her knuckles.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Vaughn. Would you care to dance?"

"Oh. No, I'm sorry. I—"

"She would love to."

Rhea casts and irritated glance at her father, but his stern expression leaves no room for argument. With a resigned sigh, Rhea nods and allows herself to be swept onto the dance floor. Emmett places a hand on Rhea's hip, and taking her hand in his, they begin a slow waltz.

"You seem familiar. Are you sure we haven't met before?"

Rhea tenses. She needs to get away from him, fast. She can't afford for him to recognize her. What was her father thinking? Rhea looks up at Emmett. She can see the dark bruise forming over his left temple, where she had hit him. She reaches up to brush her fingers against it, ignoring his grimace.

"I don't think so. I'm sure I would have remembered meeting you. I'm pretty good with faces. What happened to your head? It looks terribly painful."

Emmett smiles ruefully at her.

"It happened at work. I'll spare you the gory details, but I was supposed to protect someone, and I failed. This was the result. It is quite painful and embarrassing in front of all these people. What will they think of their new captain?"

"How awful. I'm sorry you couldn't protect them. Don't you worry about what people will think. You can't save everyone. But as for people seeing the bruise, I can help with that. I'll go to the powder room and borrow someone's face powder. I'll be right back."

Rhea and Emmett finish their dance, and she immediately pulls out of his embrace, turning toward the hallway.

"Alright then, I'll wait by the bar. Umm, thank you."

Rhea hears Emmett call after her but doesn't respond as she flees from the room. She takes several steadying breaths as she leans against the marble wash basin in the powder room. She is thankfully, alone; there is no one to see her minor meltdown. Why on earth had her father sent her to kill Lord Wright, tonight of all nights? Especially if he knew Emmett would be here tonight. She understood now, why she was ordered not to kill him. Elias Parker was one of their biggest military insiders. He would not take very kindly to them murdering his son. But why couldn't she have just done the job tomorrow? Rhea scoffs. She knows the answer to that already. It is because her bastard father takes joy in messing with her. Wyatt was probably out there laughing at her misfortune right now.

The door opens behind her and Rhea makes a show of tidying herself up. But when her father's reflection joins hers in the mirror she pauses, turning around and meeting his gaze with a quizzical stare.

"Father? This is the ladies powder room. Why are you in here?"

Wyatt steps closer to her, and she instinctively takes a step back, leaving her pressed against the wash basin.

"I saw you desperately fleeing from the captain, so I thought I would come check on you. Did he recognize you?"

"No. And if he did, it would be your fault. I just needed to freshen up. If you're done being paranoid, you should get out before someone sees you in here."

Wyatt laughs, stepping closer and pressing his body against hers, effectively trapping her between him and the basin. Rhea's fingers itch for her knife, hidden underneath her laced corset back. Something isn't right. Her father's eyes have that glazed look again. But if she dared to strike him, especially in such close quarters, she knows he will make her pay for it. The familiar sensation of fear begins to crawl up her spine, and Rhea pushes it away, keeping her gaze locked with her fathers.

"What are you doing?"

Wyatt places one hand on the mirror behind her head, and the other rests heavily on her hip, causing Rhea to gasp.

"You know Rhea, you have grown into a strong, beautiful woman. You look so much like your mother tonight. I never realized before. I loved your mother. It was a shame, truly, that I had to kill her. But, she's not really dead, is she? She's right here, in you."

The hand on her hip travels upward, grazing her covered breasts, leaving an acid trail along her collar bone and up her neck, before resting on her face, thumb brushing against her lower lip. Rhea reaches behind her, slowly loosening the laces at her back, so she can grip her knife.

"Father. Stop this. You're talking nonsense."

"Shut up! You will do as I say. Stop fighting me."

Wyatt pulls both hands away from her to grab at her dress skirt and pull it up around her hips. Rhea clenches her eyes shut and wills her body to stop trembling. If she didn't obey, he would only hurt Riley.

"Don't close your eyes. Look at me."

Rhea opens her eyes, musters every ounce of her hatred, and glares up at the despicable man who calls himself her father. He only laughs.

"Good girl."

Wyatt bunches the dress up in his left hand and reaches down to her bare legs with his right. His fingers brush against her lower thigh, and she fights a gag. He shoves his knee harshly between her legs, forcing them to separate, and continues to trail his hand up her thigh. Rhea grits her teeth, and her nails dig into her palms. Rhea is not a religious woman, but she prays desperately for someone to interrupt them. Her heart is pounding in her ears. Time is moving painfully slow. But as her father's fingers leave her bare thighs and she feels them instead press against her clothed womanhood, Rhea snaps with a scream.

"No!"

Time speeds up. Rhea's body moves without her consent, ripping the knife from its hiding place and swinging it with fury, directly into her father's side. He roars in pain and smacks his hand away from the knife, ripping it from his side and tossing it to the floor with a clatter. The next second his hands are at her throat, choking the life out of her. She claws uselessly at his hands, her legs still trapped against the basin. With a snarl, Wyatt smashes her head brutally against the mirror, causing the class to rain down on her. Wyatt throws her to the ground then, and Rhea cries out as her head hits the corner of the wash basin, and a blinding pain erupts behind her eyes.

He is on her again before she can struggle to her feet. His left-hand closes around her throat, while his right grabs a fistful of her dress and tears it away. He does the same with her undergarments, leaving her completely exposed. Rhea brings her right leg up and throws it into his side, but Wyatt only grunts and closes his fingers tighter around her throat. His free hand begins to fumble with his belt. Rhea thrashes wildly, beginning to see black spots in her vision. Her skull throbs, and she begins to feel dizzy. She catches a glint of metal in her hazy vision and turns her eyes to the left. Her blade lays there, just barely out of reach. Rhea's left hand leaves her father's hand on her neck, stretching to reach the knife. Wyatt doesn't notice. His belt is undone, and he leans down to Rhea's ear as he pulls himself from his trousers and presses himself against her entrance, holding her thrashing hips down with a bruising grip. Rhea's eyes flash burning gold again as Wyatt growls in her ear.

"You are my property. Mine to do with as I please. And I am going to remind you of your pla-!"

Wyatt gurgles as blood spurts from his mouth. His grip on Rhea's throat loosens and she shoves him off her as he continues to choke on blood. She tears the blade from the side of his neck, and Wyatt falls backward, staring as his daughter struggles to her knees, blood-soaked knife gripped tightly in a shaking hand, and golden eyes searing into him with malice. She bares her teeth at him and snarls viciously as she buries the blade deep into his chest. Wyatt spits up more blood, some landing on Rhea's face as he laughs darkly and speaks for the last time.

"Monster."

Rhea pulls the blade from his chest and rises unsteadily to her feet. Wyatt's body falls forward, hitting the marble floor with a dull thud. Rhea hears a gasp and lifts her head. Standing in front of the door, which now hangs off the hinges, is a shell-shocked Emmett Parker.

Emmett glances down at the body of Wyatt Vaughn. Blood from his wounds spreads across the tile, and much of it is soaked up by the torn portion of Rhea's dress, tinting it a sickly orange. He looks back to Rhea and shudders. Her legs and part of her abdomen are completely exposed. Her face and chest are splattered with red. Her neck is already starting to sport dark, hand shaped bruises, and dark red oozes from a wound somewhere on her head, matting her beautiful curls. But the most alarming part of his vision of Rhea is her face. Her eyes, which he knows were blue, burn an impossibly bright gold, pupils blown wide with adrenaline and shock. Her mouth is set in a vicious snarl, and her teeth are borne, razor sharp canines now lengthened.

He takes a hesitant step forward, but the threatening rumble from Rhea's chest, and the lifting of her blade stops him for a moment. She is like a wild animal, completely feral, but Emmett knows that she still needs help. Her whole body is shaking with the effort of keeping her upright, and there's no telling how much blood she has already lost. He holds his palms up facing toward her as he steps toward her again. Rhea's grip on the knife tightens, but she doesn't growl this time. Emmett speaks slowly and clearly.

"Rhea. I'm Emmett Parker. We spoke just a few minutes ago. I am not going to hurt you. You need medical attention. Please, let me help you."

He is standing in front of her now. She is beginning to sway, and her eyes are dropping. Not good. Emmett reaches for the blade with painfully slow movements. Her eyes dart to his hand on hers, then back to his face, but she doesn't stop him as he gently takes the blade from her and tucks it in his belt. Her breath comes in short labored pants now, eyes fluttering again. She manages a single raspy word.

"Emmett."

Then Rhea's eyes close and Emmett catches her as she collapses. He lifts her limp body into his arms and strides toward the door.

"Hang in there, Rhea."

Levi's eyes fly open and he shoots into a seated position. He instantly regrets this as needles of sharp pain assault his head and ribs. He lays back down, throwing a noticeable bare arm over his throbbing eyes. Every shuddered breath causes a dull ache in his side. His heart beats furiously against his rib cage. Visions from his dream swirl hazily in his mind, mixed with memories of what had happened before he passed out. Shit. He is alone. In titan territory. With no horse and no gear. He is screwed.

After several minutes, the pain in Levi's head subsides enough for him to sit up again, slowly this time. He scans the room slowly, taking in his surroundings. It's not a room at all, Levi notes as he surveys the hard-packed dirt walls, interspersed with thick roots. He's obviously underground, but where? Moonlight filters in in from a wide whole to his left, and he can just make out the forest canopy above. He looks to the ground and spies his busted gear and body harness. His shirt is nowhere to be seen. Levi glances up and sees the dirt ceiling, filled with even thicker tree roots. Someone has obviously dug out a hole at the base of one of the giant trees, like some kind of…den? He casts a glance around the rest of the space and his breath stops, eyes widening. He is certain now. He is in a den. Laying in a pile across from him, are several sleeping gray wolves. Fuck. Before he can begin to process this revelation, he hears feather light footsteps approach behind him and a soft, lilting voice call out.

"Oh good, you're awake. I was beginning to worry."

Levi reaches for his boot, only to find his knife is missing. He jumps to his feet, prepared for the searing pain this time, and bracing against it. He turns to face his opponent with fists held high, but they falter slightly as he lays eyes upon her.

Rhea Vaughn stands a few feet from him. Her pale skin and auburn curls shimmer in the moonlight, and her cornflower eyes glow with an eerie luminescence. She looks completely unthreatened by him, and she makes no moves to attack, or even defend herself. She is also, to his chagrin, completely and unabashedly naked. She doesn't bother to hide herself from him as he stares openly at her naked body. Levi drops his fighting stance completely and feels like a damn idiot when he hears the two words that come from his mouth.

"It's You."

End.

Here's chapter 4! I really wanted the whole thing to be in one chapter, but it would have been like 6000 words and I finally relented and decided to separate it. I also cut out an entire scene that I decided wasn't pertinent to this chapter, although it is an important part of Rhea's back story. I might delve into it more later. Poor Levi is having a hard time XD. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will try to have chapter 5 up by Saturday. Tell me what you think so far :)