Chapter One

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A/N -- Welcome BACK to the world of Fearless! My God, it's been so long. Either way, here we are. I have a fresh, new idea and I hope you all like it. While the original story isn't perfect, it is certainly one you all loved. I hope you enjoy!

©Haley Netherton 2016-- All Rights Reserved

Which means this work is a copyrighted work. I do not give permission for it to be posted/uploaded to ANYWHERE but where I post it. If I find this work anywhere else, I am not afraid to take legal action.

Also, this book is a bit darker and a bit more mature than the last.




It was long past midnight when Iris finally stood from her bath. My, she'd certainly gotten home later tonight than she had on most nights. Training had been... eventful to say the least. The meetings after training --well, they had been even more eventful. She tried to shake the cold feeling of dread from her stomach. She'd made one hell of a decision today.

As the rogue got to her feet, she tensed her legs and noticed that they no longer ached from doing her job. The physical labor was nothing anymore. Not to her, at least. In fact, it hadn't been for quite some time. Black, wet curls fell softly over her chest, tickling her belly with their dripping ends. She did nothing to move them.

Everything was surreal.

Rogue Captain Gwenneth. That was her title --what she was to the grand country of Eldia. It had been such a proud promotion. She'd worn the badge with pride, attended the war councils with pride. It was the perfect job for her. Her body could handle it, and her heart swelled every time a new recruit came looking for help. The tactics of it honed her mind and she trained men and women alike, helping them to better their craft.

Everything had fallen into place for her, seemingly. Life had indeed been good. Iris smiled a little as she stepped from the water and dried herself. Oh, how she'd thought she'd grown so much from the experience. And she did --of course. She learned to stand for herself, and she learned how to fight for those she cared about. She learned to be happy.

And in the mess of all that, she had to admit that her head had gotten bigger, despite her efforts to stay humble. For six months, she secretly reveled in the fame they gave her, even if she despised herself for it. She lived off the praise of those who adored her. And in the seventh month, when Zayn had proposed to her... oh, she was flying. She was flying higher than the white clouds that textured the endless blue sky.

And then... she crashed. Hard. In the midst of the fairytale she had been living in, life served her a lesson. A cold, hard grounding that she could never have prepared herself for. Not even with a million years to spare.

Her father had died.

Elliot Gwenneth perished under the weight of sickness --an enemy her daggers could never face. It was a sudden death, just like her mother's. One day, he had begun acting as if he'd had a cold, and then before they knew it, he was coughing up blood by the cup-full. They'd taken him to so many medics and healers, but the disease did nothing but spread.

For weeks, Iris could have sworn she would die herself of a broken heart. Everything she had done... the war, the deception... it had only given her father another year. The pain after his passing was unbearable, its burning sting cutting her chest open and leaving her heart bare for all to see. But, time went on. It always did.

And with what had happened to her mother, it was easier this time. She was used to the loss.

At least he was with his wife now. And they were both watching over her --yes, she had to believe that.

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