(Book 1 will name later)
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”
The prayer she’d known since childhood echoed in her mind, repeating, repeating, and time seemed to flow in a broken manner as she lay curled against the corner of the bed in her new cell. Danger was all she could think, someone had brought her here; someone evil had killed her family. Everything seemed foggy, like she was floating on a strange cloud of pain; and sorrow throbbed at her heart like a steady stabbing agony. She had lost everything, I’m alone, she heard her thoughts echoing. Her eyes twitched though they remained closed, they’re dead! Her mind wept brokenly even as her body refused to move, to feel, the only sign of emotions were the tears seeping from her closed lashes.
Slowly she opened her eyes but only her eyes moved around as her body remained still in a shocked thickness that only heavy sedation would bring. Slowly with a sigh she turned her head which felt so heavy, and the effort it took astounded her, what had they hit her with? She remembered, too well, seeing her parents killed. Then she remembered something a male standing next to the monster, her sister, he had said “She’s perfect, and here is the agreed upon money...” the rest of what he had said faded into darkness, the rest of her memory on what had occurred was incoherent or non existent, was the better term, she decided groggily.
“At last you are awake” a smooth male voice said from the darkness of her cell, the only light seemed to be around her at the moment. He had been watching her, enjoying the satisfaction of having come across such a prize. Isabelle was a rare beauty, despite being a Sinborn he found her to be possibly one of the most beautiful and rare of his collection, and despite her current condition of dirt and blood she was still breath taking. Her skin was pure ivory, save for a sprinkling of very light freckles around her nose. Her lashes full and black, and she had full red lips, her nose was slightly wide but pert, setting those beautiful sea-green eyes further apart than normal. Her eyes he remembered them full of pain and sorrow but their angle and fullness of lashes had singed themselves in his memory. Her ebony hair fell long and freely around her and three pairs of whitish brown horns protruded from her head. And just under her body was a pair of oddly speckled brown and white wings. “I had wondered if perhaps I had used too strong a spell, you’ve been asleep almost a day now” he admitted though he did not move so that she could see him.
Isabelle’s brows furrowed slowly as she tried to process what was happening, she heard the voice of the man in her room but it took her a moment to realize that there was something to be concerned over. Pushing with her hands she had managed to sit up, staring in the direction of the voice, she looked around blindly trying to find him in the darkness that surrounded the room “W..who are you?” she asked sitting up awkwardly by pushing herself up further with her arms. Her body felt so tired, so ready for more sleep, but her mind was now coming awake more with the sense of danger being so near, she could feel her heart hammering against her chest, and she tried to keep the fear from her eyes.
He chuckled in delight as he watched her reaction to someone else being in the room, “You have nothing to fear my precious” he told her without really answering her question. He waived his hands around though he was sure she could not see him,“This is your home now, this is your room” he informed her. “ You are where you belong, and I am your lord and master...Nymilleath Amathgyl, and you my precious Isabelle are now a part of my rare collection “ he informed her in a rich voice that resonated from the darkness where he continued to dwell.
Despite not seeing him she had the feeling he was gloating casually, “I don’t care who you are, no one is my lord and master,” she retorted bluntly as she finally managed to regain more of her strength her temper was rising. “And stop hiding in the shadows like a pathetic coward, I know you are one. You worked with that monster, that woman who killed my family. You hide behind your magic and evil deeds and the darkness suites you. But you are a coward, show yourself” she said feeling the anger and hurt push her temper along. He had changed her life horribly forever, and he owed her a real explanation.
A handsome rich laughter filled the air, “Brava! Your temper suites you, it only adds to your appeal, my sweetest Isabelle” he said and chuckled as he watched her get more angry. “I like fire in a woman” he admitted, “I especially love the challenge of taming that fire...and coming away unscathed” he mused. “Your sister sold you to me, at quite a nice price for helping her hide her little sister” he informed her. “We came to the bargain fairly quickly, and I believe I made off very well with you” he mused. “Your father wanted you hidden for some reason and failed to tell your sister that you existed. That was of course his fault, he should know how heartless your sister is” he stated with a smug smirk. “For whatever reason he hid you among the human’s, I wonder what it feels like to wake up one day and realize everything you’ve been told is a lie” he said it a rhetorical fashion and he watched her waiting to see her reaction.
She twitched and glared as directly at him as possible because she still could not see him, her jaw was set and it was obvious she was unhappy.“I am a monster now it is not something to make light of”she said heavily as her sea green eyes moved from him, to move over herself for a moment, She looked at her wings which were twitching now as they came back awake. She glanced back in his general direction, and arched a brow,“What is a Sinborn?” she asked him deciding she was not going to get him to step out of the shadow. He clearly liked playing games if she kept pushing at him to do reveal himself he never would, she mused as she tried to readjust her position to a sitting position.
He smirked in satisfaction, Isabelle was no fool, he liked a challenge and she would certainly give him one. It had been far too long since he’d had such a challenge. “A Sinborn is a hybrid or mixing of breeds between a Elinsa and a Venor, two races who hate each other and consider the Sinborn an unwelcome result from those of both races who breed” he decided to explain it only briefly. “Your kind live as slaves, and are often killed for sport, some are raped, others tortured, the list goes on and on. Being in a collection like mine is nothing compared to what they could do to you." he promised her, “Apparently your blood father and mother didn’t want that” he informed her. “I still don’t know why they hid you among the human spawn” he muttered. “They’re so beneath us” he added with a sneer. “Mere prey.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she felt sick as he spoke of her family, and imagines played through her mind like a cruel reminder that his words echoed perfectly. She covered her mouth in fear that she might throw up, that she might weep and lose control, she wasn’t sure which would be worse, which would be more demeaning. “You monster” she sobbed instead and buried her face covering her eyes as she wept for the family she’d lost. The people he referred to with such derision. It hadn’t hurt him even a little to kill them, in fact she was sure in some sick twisted way he had enjoyed it! She grabbed at a pillow that she’d been laying near and threw it at him as she screamed in pain, and then collapsed onto the bed in sorrow filled weeping.
He smirked as the pillow missed him entirely, even in pain she tried to fight. It intrigued him, but it didn’t mean he was going to feel sorry for her or sympathetic. She has believed herself a human, and her parents had hidden her with the spineless creatures, it wasn’t his fault she’d formed any kind of bond with them. He hadn’t killed her parents but he had enjoyed watching the way her sister had dispatched of the mortals. “I’m not so much the monster you believe me” he assured her, “Just know this Isabelle, and remember, your life is over the one you knew, now you live here, and your fate is mine to chose. I can be a kind master, or you can pay for crossing me” he assured her, and then without letting her see him he stood and left the room, behind him was the sound of a clanking cage as it closed behind him. The sound of it echoed in her cell and her mind.
She lay there for several minutes weeping too devastated to argue with him, she was glad he was gone, but what was she going to do? She was not going to stay here forever, she had to get out! Gareth had taught her to fight with a sword, surely at some point that could help. Then again what did she truly understand? All she knew was that everything she had ever thought she knew was false. The people who had been her family had turned out to be nothing more than a lie, invented by a father she did not know! It was a bitter situation she realized as she recalled just how much her world had changed within only a few short hours time.
She was not a human, she was some kind of monster! She mused bitterly, and recalled when she had seen Gareth and known that everything he had told her had been untrue. Gareth was like her, she remembered being so angry when she’d found that out. It had hurt to know that a man she cared so deeply for could lie to her. But now, now he was dead, and that broke her already shattered heart to recall. She couldn’t explain why she was so close to him, just that he mattered more than her own life. But she had never told him that and now, well it was too late. Everyone had tried very gently to explain to her what had happened, and her parents had even tried to explain, hoping that it would soothe her, but she had been so very angry. She remembered the horrible things she had said with a shuddering breathe. But she’d been so angry, she’d said things that she still regretted and didn’t dare think about. “I’m so sorry” She sobbed as she sat up, she wasn’t even aware she’d spoken aloud as she sat up and wiped at her eyes.
She looked around at her surroundings and realized she was in some kind of room, a very well decorated beautiful room, like something a Princess would have. She’d heard of the wealth of Kings and Queens but had never experienced it first hand. The bed she was sitting awkwardly on had the softest comforter, it was a brilliant and deep read with threads of real gold detailing. The bed was on a frame that was a massive four poster bed, and around it were curtains of deep red that were pulled against each poster. She realized she was tracing the gold inlays on the bedding thoughtfully as she made herself stop. She was in a cell, and yet this monster, he had made it look like a home, a very odd home. He was giving her the best of everything, if the bed was a testament to the rest of this room. She snapped out of the confusion, she was still a prisoner, the wooden door she saw at the other end of the room was not what had made that metal clank! She had to fight him, every step of the way. He was not going to sooth her anger with stupid trappings such as this! A cage was a cage, gilded or not!
She stood up unsteadily and then nearly over balanced as she held onto the beam that rose from the four poster bed, she gazed down and realized she’d tripped over an odd oriental rug that was sprawled over a beautiful hardwood floor.She looked over her shoulders at her wings and sighed heavily in disgust, how was she supposed to work with these things? It seemed even the slightest thing that put her off balance was going to cause her to fall. Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she concentrated hard as she experimentally stretched one wing at a time, and took her time at least learning the feeling of how to do it, doing this over and over again for a few minutes each time, she soon found within a half hours time she finally had more control over her wings. So with that knowledge she tucked in her wings and proceeded to walk along the room.
She felt heavier, much heavier but then again she also felt physically stronger than she’d ever realized. Had the spell hidden her true strength even from herself? She mused that it must have, reasoning that it would have seemed abnormal for a human to be able to be this strong. Still she thought with disgust she had no strength compared to those monsters holding her hostage. Slowly she made her way around the room, and soon found a mirror and shuddered at the sight of blood that clung to her clothes, and she hadn’t realized there was some on her skin as well.
She looked away and tried hard to ignore the urge to get sick, it wouldn’t help, she didn’t know whether this blood was her own or belonged to her loved ones. So she looked around and occupied herself with finding something to clean herself with, as she turned a corner in her room she stopped in surprise as she spotted the huge bath that held very warm and soapy water, it smelt heavenly like a rose or something. She saw the dress that hung nearby the divider that hide the bath from the rest of the room and anyone entering. The whole setting was so cozy, she realized, again the monster was going for comfort to distract you from the fact that you were a prisoner. She shook her head, it wasn’t going to work he had such a big ego if he really thought it was going to work on her.
She moved towards the barrier and looked the dress over speculating over the way it seemed to bare her shoulders, and there seemed to be almost no back to the dress. The only thing really holding it up when she put it on was going to be a pair of very thin diamond and ruby strings. The idea of wearing so little left her blushing, she had never worn such things at home, true enough her shoulders had been bare, but never to this extent! She touched the red and white fabric, it was soft, and flowed like silk in her fingers. He really didn’t hold back on extravagance, she mused with disgust, even as she appreciated the beauty of the fabric.
She realized after a moment of thought that she was going to need a knife to remove the dress she wore now. It prickled at her wings, making them itch, and the discomfort was something new. The price of having wings she felt was not worth it, but then again, maybe they could be used to help her later, after all wings meant she could fly. In theory. She soon found a knife and worked quickly at cutting the fabric, as it fell to the ground she quickly stepped out of it and cast it aside with a shove of her foot. Then she stepped into the tub doing her best to not lose her balance, the tub was massive which helped her wings fit in, because she was sure that just like the rest of her a good washing was just what was needed.
She began to scrub with a massive clothe and then a sponge for the harder spots on her skin, soon the water was filled with the dirt that had once covered her. She had finished washing, and stood up carefully, she did not wish to fall. She also did not wish to stand there naked and wet, because she feared that the monster would return and she had no intentions of being caught in this state. So she quickly moved to grab a couple of towels and soon was drying her body and wings, with some trepidation she stepped into the dress which was surprisingly much easier to put on than her normal attire. It was lighter feeling too, and swirled around her differently than any other fabric she’d ever felt. She finished drying her wings as much as possible, and at last finished with her hair brushing through it. She had to feel better somehow, and she knew it was vain and pointless to worry about her appearance but she felt it was the only thing she had control of at this point and time, she needed control, she realized as she pulled her hair back in a braid.
This time when she looked in the mirror she saw a pale woman, her eyes of sea green depths were filled with sorrows and hollow, her skin seemed so pale and frail, her shoulders usually strong and straight were limp and broken. She was taller, she realized, and the added change had her lips trembling with emotion from another new aspect to herself, how much more was there? She wrinkled her nose as she looked at the horns on her head were three pairs of horns all strangely mingled together. Her damp black hair was braided, her shoulders were mostly bare except for a couple of thin straps and her breasts bared more than she liked, the white and red gown did little to hide her properly.
She unraveled one of her wings and tentively touched one of the drying feathers, it was the only thing about herself that seemed to hold some comfort, strange and foreign as it was. If she got strong enough maybe she could learn to fly and she would find a way out of this place. She could be free, she still didn’t know where she would go. She couldn’t exactly go home, and finding this strange man who was her real father, she thought bitterly for a moment, no one was a real father like the one who had raised her. She had no where to go, but anywhere was better than this place, was better than the life Nymilleath was forcing on her. She would not be his, she would not let him touch her, or take from her her own spirit and will, that was what he wanted, along with things she would rather not think about. She stared at herself in the mirror silently waiting for the pain to die away even a little.
The silence filled the air for several minutes, and tears threatened her, the pain would never end. She had lost everything, she had lost everyone, her heart could not possibly shatter any more than it had already shattered. She realized as she covered her face with her hands and wept sorrowfully into them, her shoulders rocking, and soon her whole body shook wracked with grief and fears and uncertainty. What was she going to do? What if she was stuck here forever? What if there were no way out! Oh God! What am I going to do, she heard herself thinking through the sobs. There had to be a way! Finally she calmed down enough to look up into the mirror, she squared her shoulders she could not and would not give up, or give in. It was not her way, it was not God’s way.
It was God’s will that she not surrender, she knew it, he would not want her to give up, no matter how much she wanted to in that moment she realized she couldn’t do it, how often had her mother reminded her that God worked in ways you never expected. Maybe this was one of those things, but at the moment she couldn’t even begin to understand why, tears brimmed at her eyes as she stood there waiting to understand, how out of such loss could come anything good. She bowed her head, folding her hands in a peaceful tent as her eyes closed, “Oh Lord I come to you today in the darkest hour I have ever known....only you know my enemies strength...only you know my own strength, and only you can give me the strength. Please my God...do not forsake me...do not leave me...amen” she sad as she finished praying she looked back at the reflection of herself and saw resolve, sadness was still there and would be for sometime, but in the back of her mind in her heart lingered a new hope, she mused as she touched the mirror with her finger as though touching herself in a comforting fashion. “It will be well” she whispered even as tears threatened her vision, she had to believe it, she would believe it. That monster could not and would not hold her here forever!
Nymilleath prowled along his hallways, head held high, and his demeanor was positively radiating pride, as he looked around at multiple cages where his prized women lived. He prided himself on their beauty and their eagerness to please him, that did not however mean he trusted them to wander freely without him at their side. It was a rule to keep them in sight at all time, a room full of them with him was fine, but letting any of his prizes wander alone; was unheard of, because he did not trust them to behave completely. Rare as it was, that one would attempt an escape;and that he would not abide them thinking they could just leave, after all they had no where else to go. They were his and no longer had anywhere else they belonged, he had a few of them for hundreds of years, and they were the most eager to get his attention, soon Isabelle would join their ranks. He did like the fact that she was so determined to fight him, because it made turning her emotions around to love and even lust for him, and that was a challenge he enjoyed so very much.
He soon approached a massive hall that he turned into, unlike the bright beautiful decorations of the area where he kept his collection, this one was dark and dispondant feeling. This was the cell area for sinborns and other slaves for sale, their cells weren’t plush, in most cases they had just the bare necessities such as a bed and there were always chains involved. Because he didn’t want his cargo to escape. Only two creatures to a cell were allowed, but usually there was only one due to room. There were only a couple new Sinborns, and one of them was standing in his own cell and looked pathetically weak, his massive body was covered with blood, and cuts, bruises, and it was obvious that if he didn’t get help he might not live much longer. Gareth, he recalled Isabelle calling him by that name, had fought long and hard to defend Isabelle and her family. He respected anyone who was that out numbered, and kept fighting. But the point of the matter was that Sinborns were not supposed to defend themselves, they were slaves, and not allowed to attack their betters.
He clucked his tongue as he spoke and shook his head mockingly, “It is a pity that such damage had to come to you. It will take some time before I can sell you” he informed the Sinborn. “You did your best to protect them and yet here you lay chained and too weak to even move. Isabelle is mine now, and no amount of fighting on your part could protect her from such a fate” he told him seriously. “I would think a Sinborn would realize the rules that their miserable lives entail. You can’t defend yourself or another, the only time your miserable life is able to defend is if it is one of my kind or an Elinsa’s life on the line” he told him with a glare of disgust. “You are lucky I let you live” he told him seriously. “If it had been anyone else you would have been flogged and killed, not that you are far from death’s door right now” he mused. “But I realized that if I did that I would only damage my cargo” he informed him with a superior smirk. “Come now Gareth, Sinborn, talk...or have you suddenly remembered your place?” he asked him. He loved taunting the slaves, and if they weren’t in his collection he was not worried about winning them over.
Gareth lifted his head heavily, trying hard to focus on the Venor, “Then why did you let me live?" he asked him bitterly. At this point he didn’t think there was any way out for him or Isabelle, but he would be damned if he truly gave up. For now though he was too weak to offer any resistance towards the Venor or his intentions for Isabelle. It sickened him because he knew the reputation of this monster, he was a slave master, and ecenteric collector of beautiful items, and those items often included women. Women he then basically brainwashed into being his willing slaves. It disgusted him to think that the monster would try anything like this with Isabelle. He ached all over, as he attempted to at least sit up against the wall. “She isn’t like the rest of them” he said and trailed off weakly.
He laughed mockingly, “Oh but she is Gareth you don’t know what any of those women were like before I..aquired them” he told him. He was surprised that Gareth attempted to sit up. He knew the beating the man had taken, “They’re each different of course, but it never takes long before they learn their place” he assured him. “I believe you are letting personal feelings for the girl cloud your mind” he mused, he’d seen enough men in love to know one when he saw it. “I realize you were put where you were to protect her though I still don’t have the whole story” he informed him. “The point is I don’t believe you risked your life out of duty to protect her, but out of love” he stated and grinned at him. “Its so obvious, and yet I am guessing you never told her and she never noticed” he mused. “Why do you think that is?”
He looked at his captor for a full moment in silence, “Her father charged me with ensuring her safety, along with a couple other of his most trusted” he told him without looking away. “I care about her” he managed to be vauge about it not wishing to discuss his personal feelings for Isabelle with Nymilleath, it was not his right to hear what he had not told Isabelle. He had never had the guts to tell her, and now it was too late there was no point in giving this bastard ammo in any way. “Isabelle is stronger than any woman you have ever ‘aquired” he said the last word mockingly. “You have no idea what you are attempting to do with her, she won’t fall for it, she isn’t weak like they were” he said valiantly trying to build Isabelle up. He knew her and he believed his words; he only hoped that they disenheartened this bastard.
“And yet his most trusted failed miserably” he taunted with an expression that was both stoach and mocking somehow. “You are right she is stronger than many I have met” he mused. “But, with time, and the proper encouragement I believe I can woe her” he said with such confidence, that he smirked. “Unlike you, Sinborn, I know how to win a woman over” he said seriously. His smirk turned into a wicked grin as Gareth glared daggers at him. “Don’t even think of trying to be heroic, or I will have you killed on site” he assured him darkly. “She’s mine now, and soon you will be nothing but a memory to her” he assured him, before turning and sauntered away.
He paused a moment as a sound reigned thru the air, a bonging, and then he turned and sneered at the Sinborn man. “I have better things to do than to be wasting my time speaking with you now” he said as he realized how long he’d spoken with the Sinborn. Usually he didn’t bother talking to the men, but something about this one and his connection with his latest triumphant collection, well it had him concerned. Was he wise to have insisted on bringing him here? Or had he just been greedy? Time would tell, but one thing was for sure getting him healed and out of here as quickly as possible was important.
Gareth stood back quietly and watched the venore leave his presence and leaned wearily back against his wings, using them to cushion his frail body. The jerk was right, he was not going to survive a whipping, he’d had plenty of those in his life to know it. He touched the scars on his left arm under the blood that covered him. Soon enough someone would be around to see to it he was bathed, he knew that too. You couldn’t sell damaged goods. He was damaged and only time would heal him. He felt his chest hitch, he was back. His time with King Hezack Mashasen had softened him, he had forgotten during that time of the cruel masters. He knew that he had been lucky when he’d been purchased by the king. But now he’d failed his master, and worse, he’d failed Isabelle; he realized the grief he felt had been held back until that moment. He’d failed the one woman he loved with all of his heart, and the sad thing was she didn’t even know he loved her, how much every look at her took his breath away.
He realized how shallow it sounded to say it that way even in his own mind, but it wasn’t her outer beauty he was thinking of. She was beautiful yes, more so than any woman he’d ever met, but that wasn’t what made his heart skip a beat every time she even dared glance his way. It was her innocence, her kindness, her stubborn nature, and the way her sea green eyes would flash with a challenge if he said she couldn’t do something. Oh it had always been entertaining to jab at her and get her riled up, in temper was when he loved her most. The way her pale skin flushed slightly, and her eyes were filled with fire and her chin was stubbornly set, he smiled to himself recalling how often he’d pocked at her just to get such a reaction. She always seemed to forgive him and despite how he sometimes teased her, he felt that they were solid friends in Isabelle’s eyes. Because she always came to him when she was the most upset, and while he knew no one could be happy forever it broke his heart to see tears in her eyes.
The memory of how he’d found her lost and scared earlier that day came back, her sea green eyes were filled with hurt and anguish, confusion and worse betrayal. He’d held her close and tried to assure her as he took her home, but as the story came out, he would have given anything to take the pain from her. She’d just lost two of her best friends and in her words had turned into a monster. She felt betrayed by everyone from her parents all the way down to him, and he couldn’t blame her. Her life had in essence been a lie, at least in Isabelle’s eyes. At that moment she hadn't been able to see the positive side of anything.
He twitched as the memory of the attack came back to him, as he had watched and tried his best to fight off the enemy. Her sister had been quick to bind Isabelle, and there had been too man Venor too count. They had been overwhelmed, and he had watched them torture Isabelle’s mother and father and later kill them, all in front of Isabelle. He remembered watching her faint at the sight, he had also remembered and knew he would never forget the sound of her screams of sadness and fear. Those would haunt him the rest of his days, and he could never forgive himself for failing her, he thought as he glared sullenly at the other wall of his cell.
He would help her escape, somehow it had to be possible, and he would find a way. After all the times recently that he’d failed her he would find one last way to make it right, and if he had to die to free her now, he would die. He owed her that much, and it wasn’t like anyone would miss him if he died; after all he was a nobody, a Sinborn. He closed his eyes and let sorrow and the weariness of battle push him to fall asleep, and he drifted into dreams of a better time, to the sound of Isabelle singing. Everything would be alright, if he could just stay here with her, if only he could tell her how sorry he was, and how much he loved her. But here even in a dream,, with her laughter surrounding him, he was a coward.
Nymilleath stopped in his massive entry room which to him looked like a massive throne room filled to the brim with beautiful artifacts of gold and silver. Plush rare plants, and on what almost appeared a throne was the finest fabrics of black and silver covering it, and matching colors around the room. This was his domain, and in his own little world he was a king of sorts, and this was where he conducted his business. He sat down on a plush couch and waited.
A few minutes after he had begun waiting the woman he had waited for appeared, she was beautiful in her own dark way. She was nothing like her little sister, and their looks were as night and day as you could get. She was taller than Isabelle, her skin was a deep tan, and her red eyes were filled with satisfaction, a very dark satisfaction that she often wore in her expression when things were going her way. He admired her for her tenacity, but he was no fool he knew she was insane, and treaded carefully when it came to her. “Princess Raiz” he greeted and stood up formally bowing to her. She was after all his better in court and he knew better than to test her temper and forget his courtly manners.
She snarled a little at him and then grinned a moment later unable to decide if she was happy or angry. She had never thought her father could out smart her so well, but the fact that she had a Sinborn sister still bothered her. Yet knowing that her sister was now safely bound and away from her father, well that made it almost all better. Then again maiming those foolish humans had done a lot to soothe her offended temper. “Well?” she asked him. “Have you had a chance to talk to my little sister?” she asked him with a mocking tone.
He nodded, “Yes my princess, she believes everyone is dead” he told her. “Including that Sinborn, Gareth” he explained. “I can keep them both separate and within a month I will have him sold” he assured her before she could point out what she had felt was a bad idea from the start. “She is no match for me I can assure you, before long she won’t even want to leave, she’ll cringe or swoon over my every attention” he assured her.
She smiled and chuckled, “You are very sure of yourself, I admire it, but I also worry that you are a little too sure of yourself. I swear to you Nymilleath, if my little sister gets free. You are going to wish you were dead” she vowed as she moved swiftly towards him and grabbed his shirt front pulling him dramatically closer to her as her red eyes glowed with rage. “You know what I am capable of, do not fail me, and I will not have to kill you slowly and as painfully as possible” she promised him, before releasing him. “Keep me updated...” she added before vanishing again and leaving him alone.
Nymilleath feared few people but she was one of them, she was the reason he’d gotten Isabelle, because he hadn’t wanted to tell her no. He had not been sure if she’d been exaggerating about her sister’s beauty or not. But the way she’d appeared in a huge temper, it had told him to comply and help her. If the girl had not worked out he could have sold her, he had reasoned with himself. He chuckled and shook his head as nerves filtered through his once confident nature. He would have to be very careful, he recalled easily how much the princess loved to torture those who crossed her. He had been surprised that she had not killed her sister outright, but for some reason her plan called for her to be alive. So alive and safe he would keep Isabelle, and in the mean time he would enjoy his time with such a beautiful treasure. He mused as he sat back down on the couch once more and let himself drift off in deep thoughts.