Hi :) thaks to the people who kindly reviewed, nice to know that people actually enjoy my story and aren't just reading the first line and thinking "this is crap" and to those who added story alerts ect.
More Reaver in this one, especially towards the end and it's all heating up from here! Enjoy!
More blood splattered across Elena's face as she plunged her sword into the bandit's stomach, barely wincing as a horrible squelching noise and his cry of pain followed. Using her foot to pry his dying form off her weapon, she pulled out her pistol with her free hand and swung round to expertly shoot another bandit who had been raising his weapon in the chest.
"Hey! That was my mate you just killed!" came an outraged cry to her left and Elena whipped her head round to see a gun pointed in her direction.
Heart pumping faster with adrenaline, she barely had time to dive out of the way as he pulled the trigger. A loud bang issued from the weapon and she heard the thud as the bullet slammed into a wall behind her.
Elena smirked. Now it was her turn.
She lifted her gun up to face the bandit, aiming at his head and smiled victoriously as his body crumpled to the ground a second later.
"Well at least you can join him now." She said dryly.
"Good shot, princess!" a voice cried and Elena turned to face a soldier with flushed cheeks and a dirty, wrinkled uniform.
"Bert, how many times do I have to tell you? It's Elena – not princess. We're not at the castle anymore."
"Sorry, princess. It's just habit, and I like seeing your stubborn little face." He grinned cheekily.
Bert was one of Elena's good friends, having helped to raise her since she was a small child as Walter had been busy with Elliya. He was like a second brother to her as Logan had always been preoccupied with ruling Albion and turning it into a dictatorship than being a good relative to her, until Elliya had taken over. Even then, he hadn't really bothered with her, choosing to spend most of his time sitting alone in the war room, mulling over plans.
She was about to reply but another war cry cut her off. Bert's expression turned to one of horror, the playfulness all forgotten. Elena spun round to see a skinny, unwashed man running towards her wielding a branch as if it were a deadly weapon. She would have laughed out loud at the situation had it not been for the wild, animalistic look in his eyes. Bushy, unkempt hair surrounded his face as another shout issued from behind yellowing teeth.
Elena raised her pistol again.
"No! Princess, don't!"
But the warning came too late. Her pistol fired...
"Princess...Princess Elena?"
Elena turned away from the offending noise, burrowing deeper into the soft, thick covers of her bed. It had been too long since she had spent a night in such luxury – even sleeping in the bath tub would be better than the conditions she had to endure on her quest!
"Princess Elena, I really must insist that you get up now."
The posh voice broke through her doze once again, the impatient, high tone ringing in her ears and forcing her droopy eyelids open.
It was dark when she finally opened her eyes wide enough to see, blinking groggily through the daze that clouded her mind. Why would someone be waking her up when it was still evening? She rolled over, pulling the blankets with her to see a porky, old gentlemen standing by her bed and watching her with disdainful green eyes.
"Who..." she cleared her throat of sleep, "Who are you?"
The man looked offended, as if she had even dared to ask that question!
"I, your majesty," the title was pronounced with a contemptuous tone, "am Hobson. The Queen's personal adviser."
Elena merely stared up at him with a blank gaze. "Right. Um, why are you waking me up at night? What time is it?"
Hobson's face turned down in a disappointed, exasperated look. "It is ten in the morning, princess. The drapes," he walked slowly over to some dark curtains, pulling them open in one sudden, harsh movement "are merely closed."
Hissing, Elena ignored his patronising tone – somewhat frightened by the similarity that it held to Reaver's – and covered her eyes against the offending sunlight bursting through the wide window. She didn't reply, once more burying her head into the soft pillows.
"A bath has been drawn for you and clothes selected. You need to be ready within half an hour as an audience with the Queen has been called and she would be most grateful if you could attend."
"Okay." Elena lifted her slim frame out of the bed as Hobson began to exit the room, pausing only to ask a question that had just occurred to her.
"Who has called the audience?"
Hobson turned round, a new glint shining in his eyes. "Reaver."
"Oh." Great.
xxx
Elena hurried into the throne room, slightly out of breath and with her hair still damp. She had found the hot bath with all its steamy tendrils and exotic smelling lotions a little too relaxing, falling back to sleep before Hobson had rudely awoken her by banging loudly on the door and demanding that she grace the throne room with her presence.
Ignoring the mutterings and angry stares from the nobles and grinning at the cheery, lopsided smiles of the villagers crowded behind the thin red barrier that separated royal blood from the common, Elena slowed her pace to an acceptable walk. She fiddled with the sleeves of the purple dress Hobson had left out for her; a delicate material that fell to her upper thigh – originally intended to be worn underneath a billowing skirt of the same colour that trailed to the floor. But Elena had taken one look at it and refused to put it on; she detested puffy, pristine clothing, feeling more comfortable in a pair of shorts.
Her face flushed slightly as she realised that may have not been the best decision to make when walking into a room half full of leering men – none worse than Reaver.
"A little late, aren't we princess?" his voice rang out through the hall, effortlessly catching attention – a trait he had no doubt perfected over the years.
Elena glanced up at him, propped up against his cane, usual top hat adorning his head and smirk once again gracing his face. She didn't neglect the fact that he had called her princess, not Rose or Rosie as he usually did. This intrigued her...he wanted to seem polite in front of the queen despite defying his true nature. The reason made her inwardly smile. Reaver wanted something.
Making sure her wet hair brushed against the shoulder of his flawless white coat, she offered him a sarcastic smile as she brushed past, saying quietly "Shut up, Reaver."
Then Elena smiled apologetically at her sister who was sat tall and proud of the throne, crown perched perfectly upon her neatly coiled hair – a startling contrast to Elena's. But Elliya merely smiled in return, leaning forwards to whisper "You must talk to me afterwards, we have much to discuss."
Feeling a pang of dread form in her stomach, Elena pushed down the nauseating feeling to nod determinedly. Disguising her emotions had become second nature to her over the past few weeks. Taking her seat beside the throne, Elena crossed one leg comfortably over the other, watching with a sly smile as Reaver's eyes followed the action.
"This meeting has been called today by Reaver. "A loud voice called from the other side of the throne and Elena felt a sudden echo of sadness, missing Walter. "Let it begin."
Reaver stepped forward, his stance one of obviously noble birth. "Your majesty, I am here today to present forth an intrepid and, if I do say so myself, credible business proposal. Even though I have already presented this to you once before and you, forgive me for disagreeing with you on the matter, regretfully turned it down, I am giving you the chance to accept again. As we all know, the orphanage is a place not of great use anymore...there are not a lot of children around." He was referring to the crawler's attack which left a majority of the poor and defenceless dead, and people had rushed to adopt if their children had been killed. "It is a waste of resources, and I propose that we could use those resources and prime location for something much more...pleasurable and useful."
His eyes met Elena's, the brown colour startlingly bright, and she knew what was coming next.
"A brothel."
There was a mixed reaction from the audience; the villagers (men in particular) seemed joyous about the idea, showing more simple smiles and cheering, while the nobles acted outraged, pale noses turning up slightly at the notion. Elena scoffed; how hypocritical of them, Reaver had probably bedded a majority of them!
While the reactions were still taking place, Elena found her eyes flitting about the room in order to entertain herself and avoid Reaver's scorching gaze she could feel burning a hole in her cheek. She was pleasantly enjoying the rich red colours decorating the room and the intricate designs on the ceiling when her eyes passed over a shadow in the far corner.
She froze.
It felt as if a bucket of ice had been tipped over her; the blood in her very veins turning cold as she watched on, powerless to move her wide, blue eyes away, as two blood red eyes formed in the shadow, taking on the form of a long, thin figure. She felt the darkness crawling over her; grasping onto her legs and clawing its way up until it had a hold of her chest, making it suddenly hard to breath.
"Don't think you can ignore this," a voice so cold and uncaring that it could rival the crawler's whispered hauntingly, the meaning behind the words sending shivers across Elena's skin. "We own you now. You belong to us!"
Elena felt a slight anger burning away at the ice that had frozen over her body. Her eyes burned as she managed to summon a glare in the direction of the terrifying eyes, nodding slowly and numbly at the words to show she understood. Then, as soon as they had come, the eyes disappeared.
Elena felt a sudden heat rushing across her skin, so warm it was almost painful, and she took a shuddering breath. Her heart was pounding from fear of what just happened and fear of what was still to come. She blinked the forming tears from her eyes, shifting her position on the chair and casting her gaze around the room to see if anyone had noticed her mysterious behaviour. What she saw sent a pang of uncertainty through her stomach.
Reaver was staring intently in the direction from which she had seen the shadow. Elena gripped the handles of her chair as he slowly turned back round, fixing her with an impressed yet judging look. His eyebrows rose as if saying care to explain. She panicked; he couldn't have seen that could he? Nobody else could see them but her, she was certain of it...or she had been certain of it anyway.
"Elena?"
The imploring, slightly worried voice broke her heated staring contest with Reaver and Elena turned to see the brown eyes of her sister gazing at her.
"Yes?"
The Queen smiled. "What is your opinion on this proposal?"
She swallowed; the Queen was asking her opinion? Elena took a deep breath, eyes accidentally meeting Reaver's again and she stuttered out an answer. "I-I think, um, it's a good proposal. Reaver's right, it is a waste of resources which would be better used in something that the people will actually enjoy. And the money it will bring can help the treasury to recover."
Reaver's expression turned to one of smug and superiority at her words and the Queen leaned forward, whispering into Elena's ear. "Well done, I'll make a Queen of you yet."
xxx
It was sunny outside, the crisp breeze carrying with it the promise of spring and warmer weather once more as Elena walked briskly through the gardens. She walked until the flowers surrounded her on all sides' blues, yellows, reds and greens all blurring beautifully together to create an atmosphere of tranquillity and solitariness. The gardens had been the one part of Bowerstone castle that Elena had missed while being away; she loved the floral smell and colours generated by the rare and captivating plants that thrived there.
Elena stood stock still, reliving the moment from the throne room.
We own you now.
A shudder escaped her clam facade as those words echoed in her ears. She knew the conditions, the requirements of what she had done and had accepted them a long time ago with no other option present apart from certain death. But it seemed that outcome was inevitable either way now.
"Neglecting the Queen's request, are we?" Reaver's smug voice asked and his hands suddenly appeared on her waist, grasping it tightly and pulling her back against a hard body.
She stumbled back into his hold, taken completely unawares, and let out a gasp at his forward behaviour.
"I don't blame you, Rosie. Talking is rather dull, especially when there are better things to be doing with time..." he trailed off suggestively, causing a light pink tinge to grace Elena's cheeks as she recalled their conversation yesterday.
That tinge turned into an all out blush as she felt lips lightly brushing against her neck.
"Reaver!" she protested faintly, struggling to get out of hid hold.
But his arms encircled her hips, trapping her own arms by her sides as he continued his exploration of her slender skin. She could feel the fur of his collar gently tickling her back as he pressed her closer, beginning to place kisses against her neck. Despite the fact that warning bells were ringing in her head, reminding her that this was Reaver, she let her head fall to the side, allowing him better access. She could feel him smirk as his nose started a trail leading up to her jaw then back down again, but she didn't care.
Elena needed this.
She needed it as a distraction from what happened and what was going to happen. Her mind clouded over as Reaver began to place open mouthed kisses on her skin, biting and tugging, sure to leave a mark but all she could do was gasp and tense slightly in his hold, relishing the heat he provided and welcoming the distraction.
"So" he mumbled against her skin "care to explain why you're making deals with the shadows?"
It took a moment for the words to sink in and when they did it sent a startling reminder to her head. She jerked out of his arms, her eyes shooting open, unaware of when they had even shut. Elena spun round to face him with an angry glare, her cheeks flushed. He simply stood there, smirking as if hadn't just been ravishing her neck with his oh so talented mouth.
"I fail to see how that is any of your business." Elena spat, angry for allowing herself to be manipulated.
"My dear Rosie," Reaver began stepping closer once again "Just a warning, the shadow court are cold, uncaring demons. They twist circumstances. It is wise not to get involved with them."
And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, his eyes turned soft. The chocolate depths displaying so much emotion that Elena nearly drowned in the sorrow and regret that was swimming there. But then it passed, and the usual hard, flirtatious look returned, leaving her with a burning curiosity. How was Reaver involved with the shadow court? What had they done to him?
She swallowed, feeling suddenly out of place. "It's a bit late for that."
He laughed once, a harsh sound. "What have you gone and done, little Rosie?"
She bit her lip, reluctant to answer and wary of his change in demeanour. Reaver suddenly looked up and twisted his head round, eyes narrowing at something. "Well, never mind. I'm sure you can handle it and if you can't, well...I'll always be willing to talk and keep your mind off things."
Elena scoffed and was about to offer a scathing reply when his face was unexpectedly close to hers. She could see every feature; the flawless curve of his high cheekbones, the unblemished, coral lips that curved into a smirk at her star struck expression, the heart tattoo resting beneath his eye, and the flecks of black that swam in the enchanting brown of his eyes.
"But, for now, I'll leave you with this."
Before she could stop him, his lips were pressed against hers in a simple yet shocking kiss. The heat radiating from them was intense and Elena could only stand rigid with surprise as his soft lips moulded against hers. Her heart started hammering again so fast that she thought it might fly out of her chest and blood rushed to her cheeks.
Then it was over.
He pulled away, a satisfied smile playing around those lips. Elena blinked up at him with a confused gaze.
"What's your game Reaver?"
His eyes shone deviously. "My game? It's a pleasurable one."
Elena felt the words form in her mouth before she had a chance to think about it. "Really? Something I might be interested in playing?"
His eyebrows rose as he laughed. "You just keep surprising me today, Rosie. Think about what I said."
He began to stride off, cane tapping briskly against the ground.
"Which part?" she called after him.
He turned, offering her one last smirk. "All of it, darling. All of it."
Elena sighed. She knew she really shouldn't get involved with anything to do with Reaver considering her current predicament, but she couldn't help the slight fluttery feeling in her stomach and the sense of excitement that formed at the prospect. But it was Reaver, the man who made no secret of his enjoyment in pleasure and she really didn't want to be just another girl in a long line of partners.
But, with what awaited her, why shouldn't she enjoy herself?
Good? Bad? Let me know!