|| Given to the Enemy || {& You Thought You Had It Bad}

IX /Sovereign/

Zephyra struggled to keep her smile. Why was Ryne sitting here chatting like nothing was wrong? HOW could she sit here and act like nothing was wrong when Elah was flaunting the fact that he owned her! Keeping her here, in his room! Could it be more obvious that he had his use of her whenever he wanted? No. No it couldn't be. And everyone just smiled and pretended nothing was wrong. Zephyra was on the verge of tears she was so angry, hurt, and ashamed.

Finally Ryne let out a laughing sigh. "What is it Aunt Zyra?" Zephyra looked at her smiling niece startled.

"What?"

"What's wrong? And don't try to tell me nothings wrong. You haven't heard a word I've said in the past five minutes."

Zephyra chuckled at how well Ryne could read her, but she sobered quickly, trying to find the words to explain her plethora of emotions.

"It's just..." She shifted restlessly, sighed and gave up trying to sugar coat it. "He keeps you here, in his room. I know the engagement is just a ruse but no respectable man stays in the same room as his fiancée and-" She broke off, beyond words, and found Ryne's expression had turned icy.

"Where would you rather he 'keep' me?" She asked with deadly calm. "The dungeons? His brothers were all for that. How about one of the interrogation rooms? That one was popular too. Or there's where Damarcus stashed me, the sunroom. Oh, words can't describe how much fun that room was!" Zephyra starred at Ryne, wide-eyed and horrified. "Of course there are more than enough guest rooms... where anyone could get to me at anytime and do whatever they damn well wanted. Yes, please, that sounds soo much better than staying here." She scoffed. "Where, Aunt Zyra? Where would you rather I be?"

She paused, waiting. Zephyra tried to speak, but failed, all that came out were unintelligible sounds. Ryne continued. "Here, in Elah's domain, I am untouchable. They can't enter here without his expressed permission - which he never gives. So those that would gladly harm me can't. I'm safe here, Aunt Zyra. Elah could have done any of the options I mentioned, but he brought me here, and he hasn't touched me. How can I not be thankful for my treatment? He's an annoying as hell smart-ass, but then again so am I." She shrugged almost helplessly. "He, personally, has done me no wrong. I may not particularly like him, but I can't hate him, hes been too good to me."

Zephyra was now close to tears. Poor Ryne! Zephyra had focused all her pent-up anger and frustration on Elah, so she hadn't seen him as a blessing - until now. She couldn't approve of his and Ryne's situation, but she could tell her son that she approved his choice of best friend. Perhaps that was the hurt she'd seen in her son's eyes. That she, his mother, couldn't accept Elah as Asher's friend. How narrow minded she had been last night.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Asher pounded on the double doors with all his might. "Elah! Ryne! Get out here!" He shouted, sounding anxious and out of breath. Ryne jumped up and ran to the closet where she too yelled for Elah, though she was very rude about it. Zephyra could only imagine how being called the 'flea bitten, disease ridden, prince of the mutts' must grate at his nerves. But Ryne darted quickly out of the closet moments before Elah swept out, a white long-sleeved button-up shirt clutched in one hand.

Zephyra watched fascinated as Ryne fell into step next to and slightly behind Elah, who smoothly if abruptly yanked open his doors. "What?"

Asher, out of breath from sprinting, pointed down the hall and gasped, "Fight," Elah and Ryne dashed out as Asher motioned for Zephyra to come as well.

* ~ * ~ *

One second, Kalen was fighting three amateur lycans, the next he was on his knees, weaponless, with his wrist bent backward, held near the breaking point. He understood a moment later when a set of vampiric teeth viciously dove into his forearm, draining his strength as he lost blood. Ryne was furious. He clenched his teeth in pain and waited for it to be over. She was deliberately making the bite excruciating, driving her teeth past his vein into the tendons.

At long last she pulled her fangs from his arm, but the relief was short-lived as he felt her nails pierce either side of his neck before shoving him with considerable strength. He couldn't suppress a groan of pain as his face slammed into the stone floor. Yeah, she was furious.

When he at last managed to fight his way to his feet, he looked at Ryne through bleary eyes. His general, his princess, his sovereign. Her mass of hair was - as per usual - free flowing, her face make-up less (again, as usual). She wore dark wash jeans and a scoop neck form-fitting black shirt with cap sleeves, her feet bare. A shiver ran down his spine at the expression in her deep blue eyes. Her beautiful eyes. He'd thought they were black when he'd fist met her, but nope, they're blue. Kalen suddenly realized his thoughts were rambles that made no sense and wondered just how hard he'd hit his head.

"Attend." The flat tone to Ryne's beautiful alto told Kalen that this was not the first time she had said that. He stumbled toward her and then fell to his knees, lowering his eyes to the ground.

"My sovereign," he whispered hoarsely. This was gonna be bad.

* ~ * ~ *

Elah waited impatiently just outside the sparring arena. Ryne and Kalen (name supplied to him by a grim faced Asher) had entered over an hour ago, it felt like decades. Elah had known that Ryne was arguably the most powerful of the vampires; he had known that she was their general, their princess. And yet... and yet from the moment he saw her struggling in the throne room he hadn't seen her as any of that, especially not since the morning that followed, when he had carried her wilted and trembling form to the kitchen. He could vividly recall her ragged breathing and pitifully feeble grip on his shirt. From then on he had seen her as eccentric, strange, and frustrating, but not powerful, not dangerous.

Now all of his thoughts and opinions of Ryne from before they had met came rushing back, combating his recollections of the past week. The two images of her were incompatible. She was royalty, as well as a trained and seasoned warrior. Elah felt the fool. How many times in the past week could she have killed him? Elah didn't want to even know. But he had the distinct impression that she had noted every single opportunity as it had passed. Had, for some reason, let it pass. Had also, he felt, formed part of her opinion of him by these opportunities. How odd, and disturbing.

Confused and frustrated Elah reached for the door but it swung open before he could reach it. And there stood Ryne, supporting a severely battered Kalen. Had she just...? To her own soldier?! Feeling like a fish out of water Elah starred as Kalen's bleeding lips parted in a genuine smile as he looked at Ryne, and Elah gave up trying to figure it out.