Regan flattens himself as much as possible against the stone wall surrounding the prison. He carefully lifts Romeow and peeks the cat's head around the corner to observe the fort.
"Well, Romeow? See anything?" he whispers.
Romeow looks around with his eyes squinted, darting across the entire area. He sees the weaponry, training dummies and haybales, the stables that have two horses, a black one and a palomino, both saddled and are eating out of troughs. But most importantly, he sees the armed soldiers patrolling the walls.
"I can see plenty. Be more specific, twat."
Regan sighs. "Is it safe to walk in?" he keeps his voice down.
"Not unless you're looking to get shish kebabbed by those shiny spears." Romeow looks back at him with a deadpan expression.
Regan nods and bites his lip. "Any possible ways in without being seen?"
Romeow looks back at the fort and searches for any possible entrance points that aren't one of the main doors. He spots a rusted manhole cover towards the back, near the stables. "We could probably get in through the sewers, unless your poncy ass is too prestigious for that shit."
Regan grimaces and sighs. "I'll be fine, I can always bathe later..." he says begrudgingly. "Romeow, calculate all possible routes to get us from here to the sewer," he says.
Romeow concentrates on all in his sight, focusing primarily on the manhole cover. There is a small gap between the stone wall and the stable that Regan could easily squeeze through with how scrawny he is, but there would be a clear sight of him from the southeastern guard tower, and there's the risk of alerting the horses of their presence.
If Regan were to use the northern entrance of the fort, he could sneak behind the haybales and training dummies and make his way over to the side of the stables from there by waiting for the most opportune time, but if the soldiers suddenly decide to train, he could be hit.
This option is so far most ideal.
Not seeing many other ways aside from returning to New Cresthill where the sewer connects as that would take too long, Romeow turns back to Regan. "Go to the northern entrance and sneak behind the haybales and training targets and shit. I'll guide you from there because you clearly need help."
Regan smiles and nods, tucking the cat in his backpack and following his instructions. He's a little hesitant about hiding behind things that the soldiers could attack and possibly stab him, but if Romeow says it will work, he's confident he will be fine.
He reaches the north entrance without being seen and pokes his head around the corner to see the coast is for the most part clear. Nothing stands between him and the haybales so he goes for it before he can allow his fear to make him hesitate. He ducks behind the hay and targets and tries to make himself as small as possible.
Romeow, from his bag, lends him assistance. "Lower your head more, dumbass. They'd be able to see your stupid hat."
Regan does as instructed and lowers as much as he can until his head is beneath the line of sight of any soldiers. He has to resist talking back to the cat about how his hat is far from stupid and is actually rather charming and stylish.
He looks around the corner of the haybales but quickly ducks back into his safe spot as he gets a brief glimpse of a soldier coming his way. He holds his breath and hopes for the man to leave and not decide to start training at this moment. He hears the soldier draw his spear which makes him begin to sweat nervously. The soldier strikes the target above his head and he has to bite his tongue to resist letting out a yelp.
He closes his eyes and silently begs for a miracle.
Answering his prayers, before the man strikes the target again, another soldier walks up to him.
"Martyn, Lady Blackwell has requested our assistance with the prisoner. We must go at once," he says.
The soldier, Martyn sighs and puts his spear away. "Fine. Hopefully, she's right about this one so we can finally go back to Ecrin. I hate it out here." He begins walking away with the other soldier.
Regan waits until he hears the sound of the door to the prison shutting before releasing his held breath and opening his eyes. Hearing them talk about Sara dealing with Cree is motivation enough to move quickly, no time for delay. He also notes that the soldier mentioned returning to Ecrin. If these people are part of the Dev'al Ordon, that could mean they operate out of that city.
He turns and locates the stable only a few feet away from him. There's not much open space standing between him and the manhole cover, but he must wait for the right moment, otherwise risk being caught and getting both himself and Cree killed.
Without needing to ask, Romeow begins calculating. "Wait. The soldier in the northwestern tower is looking this way..." he warns. Regan stays in his place, feeling more than a little anxious for more than a few reasons. "She's looking away... You're clear. Move now and don't fuck this up."
Regan nods to himself and wastes no time before crouching low and swiftly moving over to the stable. He fears for a moment he was caught when he accidentally dragged his foot over the dirt, but after a pause and holding his breath, he hears nothing and sees no one come to start investigating.
He sighs with relief and looks down, slowly reaching down and grabbing the rusted metal cover. He has to cover his nose as he lifts it as the smell of sewage instantly fills his face. It takes all the will he has to not cough as he forces himself to lower into the small tunnel.
He starts climbing down the metal ladder and carefully lowers the covering back over his head to cover his tracks, which also covers the only light source. Once at the bottom, he hops off and Romeow jumps out of his bag.
The cat blinks a few times and his eyes illuminate the dark space, shining down the tunnel. There is a faint orange flicker of torchlight at the end of the hall that spills out through a rusted metal grate in the wall. The source of light is small, but it's enough.
Regan stops for a moment and thinks. Through those bars is likely where the prisoners are held, but if Sara and those soldiers are with Cree, he can't just pop up and not expect a fight. He needs a distraction. He turns his gaze down to his cat and smiles. "Romeow, head to the front of the prison and when I tell you to, I want you to follow my instructions, alright?" he asks.
Romeow huffs. "Whatever. Just don't get yourself killed because that would also get me killed. I'll wait for your signal." The cat turns and runs down the opposite direction of the light.
Regan is left without his flashlight cat, but he supposes it's better this way as he isn't at risk of being seen in the sewer from the metal grate. He makes his way over slowly, but swiftly as he doesn't want to risk being too late. He presses his back against the wall beside the grate to avoid being in direct view of the light and listens, briefly peeking over to see what's inside.
He has to fight his anger once he sees her.
Sara is standing close to the wall with the soldiers at her back and smiling up at something, which he can only assume is Cree who he can't see from this angle. The sight of her gives him a feeling he thought he had forgotten, similar to how he felt after Ivanna Cady killed Madhavi. The feeling of wanting revenge. Justice.
He wants Sara to pay.
He tries to stop those thoughts from entering his mind. He doesn't want another situation like with Ivanna. After watching her kill Madhavi, he allowed a part of himself to change. That was the first time he ever felt the desire to harm another person, which scared him. He would have spared her that day in the Citadel, had she not held a gun to Cree's head and nearly pulled the trigger.
He doesn't want enemies, but Sara is slowly becoming one. Another Ivanna.
Sara smiles. "I can tell you want to say something... Go on. I'm waiting, my love. What do you wish to say regarding this woman in Eutria?"
Stop calling him that.
Woman in Eutria? She couldn't possibly mean Edith, could she? How could she know about her? Cree can't fall into this. If Sara finds out that Cree knows what she's talking about, it will prove that she's right about who Cree is. An outsider in Aramora.
"Don't you dare fucking hurt her..." Cree growls.
Oh no. He watches Sara reach up to presumably touch his face which makes Regan's body tense and she stares up at him with that sickening sultry look in her eyes. "As I thought. You know this woman. You care for her." He hears the longing in her voice which makes it hard to fight the knots in his stomach. Cree wouldn't possibly still be attracted to her. He's smarter than that, surely.
"Your lover, by chance?" Sara asks.
Regan resists laughing at the thought of Edith and Cree being together. Especially with CLive in the picture. Well, before CLive became Colin, that is. He hears Cree snicker, vocalizing how that comment made him feel but was unable to express it. "Not a fucking chance in hell," there is anger and pain in his voice that hurts him to hear.
Sara leans closer and Regan takes a deep breath against his fear and rage. "Good. However, you've just disproved all your lies. You know of this woman, and thus you know of the continents and the rifts. The only people from Aramora who know such things are those in the Dev'al Ordon, which you know nothing about. Therefore, you cannot be from Aramora. You are the man who could bring about the end of our continent, and thus you need to die."
Regan lets out a small sound that sort of resembles a growl as he watches her kiss Cree, and he gives no protest. What is he thinking? Does he not see what this woman is doing to him?
He needs to do something. Fast. He's waiting for her to leave to not risk her deciding to just kill Cree right then and there once he starts the distraction. He eyes the grate and shakes his head in frustration once he realizes he won't be able to fit through it. Even if he could, with Sara and the soldiers there, he would immediately be seen and he can't risk that. He needs to find another way.
Before he decides to leave, he sees her walk out of the cell and look back at the soldiers. "Kill him, then deliver the body to Athemar Du'Keldan. Proof that Aramora and the Dev'al Ordon are hereby safe. Then we can send the message to the Imperium of Eutria to begin their hunt for this woman and kill her as well. The barriers cannot fall."
This isn't good.
He starts running down the sewer in another tunnel parallel to the one he was just in, seeing a very faint light coming from the ceiling. There's another rusted grate atop a ladder that would bring him right up into the prison, then he would just have to take a hard right and he will be at the cell holding Cree. But he has no way of knowing what he will be popping up into. Well, he supposes the risk is ultimately what turns a mission into an adventure.
It's his turn for a gamble.
"R-623, initiate diversion protocol number thirty-one. Volume ten."
He waits for a sign that the distraction has begun, when he hears loud bagpipe music blasting from the front of the prison, and then the sets of heavy armor of the soldiers rushing towards the sound. He can't tell if the soldiers with Cree left as well, but he'll find out soon enough. This is his window.
He climbs up the ladder and throws the grate off to quickly jump up into the center of the prison. Much to his misfortune, the moment he turns to start running in Cree's direction, he's met with someone standing in his way.
And of all people, it had to be her.
"You..." Sara hisses and narrows her eyes at him. Regan laughs nervously and waves like he would when seeing someone he hates in public but not wanting to seem rude.
Why was he raised to be so polite?
"Oh, sorry. Am I in your way? Apologies. I was just looking to pick up my friend. We'll be out of here in no—"
He manages to dodge as she slices her dagger at his head, but only by stumbling to the side and falling onto a table of weapons, as well as what he recognizes as Cree's bag.
Regan turns around to face her while leaning back against the table and clears his throat. "My, you really aren't friendly are you? Well, I suppose that makes me feel less bad about not liking you. Has anyone ever told you that you can be rather unpleasant to be around?" he asks, keeping direct eye contact with her while his hand discreetly feels around on the table behind him.
Sara chuckles and bites her lip. "Actually, no. You would be the first. Most people, typically men, rather enjoy my company," she says in that breathy voice that Cree seems to swoon over every time he hears it. Personally, he doesn't see the appeal.
"Well, as a man, I'd like to say that I don't exactly feel this 'enjoyment' you speak of." He keeps searching until his hand lands on a cold metal and wood object. He can't tell what it is, but it feels like it will do the trick nicely if this goes the way he hopes.
Sara smiles and steps closer to him. Too close for his liking. "No? If that's the case, I could always show you. Cree is the only one who needs to die. You, however..." She places her hand on his chest and narrows her eyes at him. He tenses uncomfortably but lets her continue as she stands right where he needs her.
"You can be spared... for the price of one night," she whispers seductively.
"Sorry, but you're not my type."
Regan grabs the object and swings it forward with all his might. As it comes to view, he sees that it's a wooden shield with steel lining. It hits Sara over the head and she collapses to the stone floor and he's left standing there, at a loss for words over the fact that it actually worked.
He turns back to the table and grabs Cree's bag, slinging it over his shoulder and retrieving his knives, tucking them in the backpack. He eyes the shield for a moment and decides to hold onto it. He then glances up at the wall to see a map hanging on a board. Figuring it would come in handy to know where they are, he takes it and stuffs it in his pocket.
He nods to reassure himself before stepping over Sara's unconscious form and sprinting down the stone hallway, towards the prison cells. As he reaches them, he sees that the soldiers haven't left Cree despite the distraction which is still blasting from across the prison, bouncing bagpipes from room to room as Romeow is running around and effortlessly evading capture.
Regan figures that he might as well utilize his adrenaline while it's still in his system. Lucky for him, the soldiers aren't wearing helmets as their assigned task didn't require much protection.
He runs into the cell before the soldier can strike Cree again and hits him over the head with the shield, making him collapse too. He's surprised at how effective this thing is. He turns and yelps as the second soldier thrusts his spear towards him, but in his state of panic and thrill, he grabs the golden rod and pushes it aside enough for him to be able to hit him over the head as well.
With both soldiers down as he had somehow managed to not die, he releases a proud sigh and brushes the shield off even though it hasn't gotten dirty at all. "Well, that went better than expected!"
He laughs nervously, then turns to look at Cree and his face pales.
In the time it took for Regan to get from the sewer to here, the soldiers had managed to completely cover him in his own blood, his chest and stomach bearing thick red gashes. His face is bruised and bloodied as well.
"Ty!" Regan gasps and drops the shield, rushing over to him.
Cree weakly lifts his head to look at him, the small movement makes him tremble. "Regan...?" His voice is just barely above a whisper and carries more pain than he had before. The sound breaks his heart.
Regan frantically looks him over as he struggles to think of what to do. There's so much happening and so much he wants to do first that he struggles to place them in the most logical order. He, of course, wants to help Cree recover first, but before he can do that, he needs to get him out of here.
"Ty, don't worry... I—I am going to get you out of here, just hold on!" He bites his lip and looks around. Cree coughs up blood and his breathing is just meek rasping. He weakly nods his head towards the hallway.
"Sara... She has the key..." He coughs again and sucks in a sharp breath.
Regan nods shakily and steps back. "I'll be right back, just hang in there, okay? Try to stay awake!" He turns and rushes back to where Sara is laying unconscious on the floor and he fishes through her pockets. He doesn't find the key right away, but he does find a necklace with a black and purple crystal pendant. He can feel some kind of strange energy radiating off of it, so he decides to take it out of curiosity.
He digs through her other pocket and finds the key. Without a pause for breath, he sprints back to Cree and reaches up to begin unlocking the shackles. He hears them click and they snap open, dropping Cree to the floor.
He leans over on a trembling arm, laying on his side and coughing up more blood. His shoulder shakes as he struggles to hold himself up. His metal arm is probably the only thing keeping him from toppling over completely.
Regan kneels beside him and rests his hand on his shoulder. "Ty, we have to get out of here. Can you walk?" he asks. He continuously throws glances back to make sure no one is coming. Cree grunts and forces himself to nod.
"Yeah... I'll be fine..." He brushes Regan off and places his metal hand on the wall to support him as he pushes to stand up. His legs are wobbly and he has to shake his head to keep himself conscious. He holds his bloody stomach with his left arm.
Regan frowns. "Tyrell, don't lie to me. Can you walk?" he demands. Normally he would be afraid of raising his voice to Cree because it would typically result in getting hurt, but in his current state, he is unable to do much at all. And even if he could, Regan's main concern isn't his own safety. It's Cree's.
Cree growls and spits out more blood. He takes a deep breath and nods. "Yes," he says simply.
Regan is skeptical, but he trusts that Cree wouldn't lie out of his stubbornness in a situation like this. Perhaps it's foolish to trust his word so easily, but he does. He nods back. "Fine. Come on, then. We must get out of here. Romeow has bought us some time but not for long. Once we're somewhere safe, we can focus on fixing you up," he says and reclaims the shield from the ground, placing it on his back.
Cree pushes away from the wall and takes an unsteady step forward. The moment his hand leaves the wall, he nearly stumbles to the side and falls. But Regan swiftly catches him before he goes down and he sighs, slinging his metal arm over his shoulders and helping him stay up. He has to lean down a bit to match his height which makes him move awkwardly, but it works in keeping Cree upright.
He guides him out to the hallway and slowly starts making their way towards the metal grate beside Sara's unconscious body. Cree eyes her and looks as though he wants to say something, but he remains silent.
Regan looks down the ladder at the sewer and sighs once he realizes Cree is in no state to try climbing down there. He'd likely fall which would make things worse. They'll have to use the front door.
They turn their heads towards the exit just as Romeow sprints past with a line of soldiers on his tail, still blasting bagpipes from his mouth which is confusing the hell out of everyone. At first, he thinks it's because these people aren't used to hearing music come from a speaker instead of a live performance, but he quickly realizes it's more likely the fact that they've never heard music come out of a cat before.
Regan hoists Cree up a bit to readjust his hold and starts picking up his pace to move quicker, but also slowly enough for Cree to be able to keep up.
He glares at Regan as he pushes the door open.
They are instantly met with soldiers turning their heads with raised spears and readied arrows. "What's the plan now, dumbass?" Cree spats weakly.
Regan's eyes instantly dart to the horses and he nods confidently. An arrow shoots past his shoulder which signals him to move fast. He has to slightly lift Cree off the ground to move quicker so as to not be either shot or stabbed. He ducks past the training dummies and rushes into the small stable. He first helps Cree up onto the back of the black horse before rushing over to the palomino one and jumping up. The horses are getting finicky with all the chaos.
Regan glances back at Cree and nods once he sees that he looks ready. Well, as ready as he can. He turns forward and kicks his legs to the horse's sides to get it moving. The horse instantly begins galloping towards the exit with Cree following behind.
Regan guides his horse to dodge as a spear is stabbed towards him and he sighs with relief as he makes it past the wall. He can hear the second set of hooves behind him that lets him know that Cree made it out as well. But they're not in the clear yet as the soldiers are giving chase on foot, the archers send arrows their way and Cree manages to deflect an arrow with his metal arm, but the movement causes him a lot of strain and his head spins.
He growls as his horse speeds up to match Regan's pace, galloping beside him. "Regan! What was the one thing I told you not to do?!" he barks. An arrow bounces off the shield on Regan's back.
"You said don't do anything stupid and I didn't!" He yelps as an arrow barely misses his arm.
Cree aggressively motions his arm back to the fort. "You had your robot cat blast music from its mouth in the middle of a medieval prison!" he exclaims.
"But it was calculated!"
Cree growls again and coughs up some more blood. He fights to stay conscious and hates that yelling takes a lot of strength which he lacks at the moment. He throws another glance back at the prison to see that the arrows have started to lessen the further they get. The cover of the trees definitely helps to hide them as well.
No longer having the strength to argue, he simply turns his attention forward and keeps riding beside Regan until the arrows stop completely.
The sun is setting by the time the horses slow their pace to a trot once they leave the forest and begin walking through an empty field. They are far from any roads which may be a good thing if they are now technically wanted by the government of the continent for some dumbass reason.
Regan keeps his head up as he rides along. Cree has lagged behind him a bit, and Regan grows more concerned for his current state as he has had no sarcastic or irritated comments since they escaped. He's constantly keeping an eye out for a safe place to rest for the night when he spots a small cave tucked beneath the tree line. It isn't very wide and doesn't go far into the earth, but it will do well enough.
He smiles. "Ty, look! We'll be able to rest there! Then I can get to work on helping you... recover..." He stops and trails off as he turns back to see Cree beginning to lose consciousness. His eyes roll back and he loses his grip on the saddle. He falls forward and topples over the side of the horse, landing limp on the ground.
Regan gasps and slides off the side of his horse and rushes over. He instinctively checks his wrist for a pulse and sighs with relief when he finds one. He carefully lifts him into his arms and grabs the reins of their horses and leads them over to the small cave.
By the time the sun vanished below the horizon, he had made a fire and laid out his and Cree's sleeping bags after tying the horses' reins to a tree. He doesn't like restraining them like this, but he doesn't know if they'll run away when he isn't looking and once Cree is awake again, he won't be able to walk steadily for at least a few days. Add in the fact that there could still be soldiers in the area and they're going to need the horses if they need a quick escape.
Regan laid Cree on his sleeping bag and examines the wounds. He can't clean up the blood completely without rubbing over the gashes, which would be bad with how thick they are. He needs to stitch them first, but he doesn't have needle and thread. Of all things he could have gotten from the market, he can't believe he was stupid and didn't buy first-aid items. He had assumed they would be safe for a while, but here they are, day two in Aramora and already wanted dead by the entire government power that controls the continent.
The most he can do right now is clean the wounds by dumping water over them instead of wiping them down. He can hear a stream nearby but fears the risk of leaving Cree unsupervised in his current state while they aren't completely in the clear.
At a time like this, he misses having Edith there to help him with this sort of thing. She was there when Cree had lost his arm to the Dread over a year ago and she was able to help him take care of everything. But now that he's alone, he feels afraid that his efforts won't be enough. If that happens, Cree could die. All because he doesn't know what to do.
He grabs his bag and starts digging through it. He has a single bottle of water which he could use to clean the wounds. It won't be enough to clean them entirely, so he'll still have to make that trip down to the stream. But it's a start towards preventing infection. He looks through his bag a little more as he believes he recalls packing a Syringe before leaving Sage, and much to his good fortune, he finds it.
He opts to clean him first before using the Syringe. He needs to be able to see where the most damage is, and thus where needs the most healing. Since he doesn't have anything like a rag to dump the water on, he sighs and unbuttons his shirt, taking it off and letting it soak up a bit of water.
He's careful to not rub over any wounds, which is hard since there are a lot of them. As he clears away as much blood as he can manage without touching the gashes, he sees those two faded scars beneath his chest again and his eyes trail over them. Seeing them still brings him a smile, which feels nice after all the hell they just went through.
Disrupting his focus on the scars, he hears rustling from behind him and glances back cautiously, but his panic eases once he sees that it's not a threat, it's just Romeow making his way back to him.
He smiles again as the cat sits down in front of him and he pets his head. "Well done, Romeow. I promise to get you a nice bowl of tuna next time we find ourselves at a tavern. You weren't followed, were you?" he asks and returns his attention to Cree.
"Of course not, jackass. Now, I hate to ask but I technically have to because it's in my goddamn code but is there anything I can assist with?" the cat asks.
Regan nods and his smile grows. "Absolutely! I need to run down to the stream to fetch some water, and I'm going to need you to stay here and watch over him while I'm away. Inform me if anything happens or if you believe he is in any danger, alright?" he asks and stands up.
Romeow walks over and sits beside Cree. "Yeah yeah, I'll watch after your pet fuckboy. Just go, twat."
Regan sighs and nods, grabbing the water bottle again and turning and making his way through the forest. He follows the sound of the stream until he reaches it. The calm sound of the running water helps him relax with everything going on. It's a little dark because of it being the beginning of night, but the moonlight helps him see well enough.
He lowers the bottle into the stream and watches it start to fill. The water will need to be purified once he gets back before he can use it on Cree, but it shouldn't be a problem.
Unlike Cree, Regan doesn't have that sixth sense for knowing when he's being watched, making it more of a shock when he suddenly hears a voice.
"You look good without a shirt."
He gasps and jumps up, nearly dropping the bottle in the water but it lands at his feet on the shore instead. He turns his attention towards the voice and his face hardens and his eyes narrow as he's met with those sickening sapphire eyes once again.
Sara is leaned comfortably with her back against a tree, spinning her dagger in an elegant, but threatening manner. Her nimble fingers effortlessly dance around the handle. It shows him how familiar she is with the weapon, and how expertly she knows how to use it. She smirks. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"
"Well, it seems we have that in common, now don't we?" he seethes.
Sara chuckles and raises a brow. "You think we have something in common? Should I feel honored or insulted?" she hisses and flicks the dagger around again.
Regan shrugs. "That's on you to decide. However, I personally feel as though you are the last person I would ever want to resemble."
"Ouch. But fair. I'll have you know I was quite impressed with your actions earlier." She bites her lip.
He tilts his head. "You were? I bonked you over the head with a shield and that impressed you?" he questions. As he says that, he mentally curses himself for leaving that shield back at the camp, then remembers that Cree is still dying, which makes him more uncomfortable to be having Sara this close to him. If she gets to him, she could kill him.
Sara nods and stops playing with her dagger, tucking it away in its sheath. "Indeed it did. Not so much the action itself, but the low cunning... Your trickery. Pretending to resist my charm to draw me closer to you and not the other way around. Only a master of manipulation would have been able to pull that off."
"And you would know, wouldn't you? But I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you by saying that I was not, for a second, pretending. You are just so egocentric that you refuse to accept that for once someone isn't falling for your games," he says and crosses his arms. He didn't know he was capable of talking to someone like this, but he supposes he's never before felt jealousy and rage towards a single person at once. Sure, he's had his share of jealousy from all the times he would see Data and Cree together, but he liked Data enough to not hate her for it.
Sara, however. He hates her with a passion.
She snickers and narrows her eyes on him, examining him closely. "I can't tell if you're bullshitting or being serious. Either way, it's impressive. But I can promise you that while you may be good at resisting my 'games', all give in eventually. I simply need to find out what makes you different from most men I come across." She steps away from the tree and approaches him slowly.
He doesn't want her to touch him again as it makes him very uncomfortable, but he knows he has to stall her until she's done talking in order to keep her away from the camp. If he were to go back before she's done with him, she would simply follow. He can't jeopardize Cree like that.
Regan throws on a smile, despite the sickening feeling he has from just being in the presence of this woman. "Well, I'd say there's quite a bit that makes me different! I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific," he says as cheery as he can manage as he can tell it annoys her. He may not be able to walk away from her, but maybe he can irritate her enough that she'll leave on her own. It works with most people. Cree especially.
She glares at him and reaches up to place her hands on his shoulders. "How are you resisting me so effortlessly? I can see in your eyes that you have no desire at all when you look at me. My powers should work on all men I touch, but for some reason, it doesn't work on you."
So it is magic and not just her looks and charm. He was afraid that Cree was genuinely falling for her despite all she's done to hurt him. He should have known better than to assume Cree was that naïve. He himself is far unlike most men. But he supposes even that doesn't make him untouchable.
"I told you before that you aren't my type and I meant it. Is that so hard for you to understand or must I break it down for you?" he speaks in a condescending voice, seeing how she hates not being the one in control of the situation. Being treated like a fool when she's used to manipulating them.
"That's what I'm stuck at. I'm every man's type."
"Not mine," Regan smiles proudly.
Sara traces her hands up to hold his face and she deepens her glare. "Then tell me. What 'type' of woman is able to invade your heart?" her voice tries to sound sultry, but her frustration makes it waver and sound more restrained.
Regan chuckles. "Ah, see that's where you've got it wrong. The only women who I hold dear in my heart are like sisters to me. However, you are trying to understand how to make me feel for you in a romantic sense, which I have never before felt for a woman." He steps back out of her hands.
She stares at him hard, trying to decipher his meaning. "What are you trying to say?"
Regan shrugs and picks up the water bottle from the dirt. "I think you know what I'm trying to say, but you are incapable of accepting it because it means you lose. You can't get into my head or my heart the way you've done with Tyrell for a quite simple reason. It's nothing more than the fact that I will only ever feel love romantically for men."
Sara scoffs and looks down. She thinks for a moment, seemingly trying to process something. She looks up at him and bites her lip again. "So, all those times you saw me with Cree... I sensed your jealousy. I had believed it was you resisting your longing for me, but now I think I see what it actually was..." She smiles wickedly.
"You're in love with him."
Regan freezes and loses his smile. He hadn't thought this part through. He hadn't considered that she would put two and two together so easily. She may not be able to manipulate him directly in his mind, but she can strike at his heart by using Cree.
He won't let her.
Sara chuckles and nods to herself. "I thank you for your time, Angevin. I had hoped you would be as insightful as I have heard you are, and I'm happy to see you are everything I believed you to be. But, before I go, there is one last thing I need from you," she says and holds her hand out. "I believe you took something from me. I would like it back," she demands.
Regan recalls the necklace he took from her pocket and is thankful he left it in his bag before leaving camp. Being cautious as to not make her think he has it, he puts his smile back on. "I'm afraid Tyrell isn't an object. And even if he was, I feel as though he is in safer hands with me," he says.
Sara lowers her hand and shakes her head. She says nothing for a moment and he can see the anger flare up in her eyes as she hates the fact that he is immune to all of her games and has wit that rivals her own.
Unsure of what else to do in her anger, she slaps him across his face. "You know what I'm talking about, so don't act like you don't. But very well. It seems that if you won't play my games, I will play yours." She smiles and takes a step back.
Regan rubs his cheek and chuckles. "You don't hit nearly as hard as Tyrell does, but I'll give you an A for effort." He winks and brings his hand back down. "As for this 'game', I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. I would have no part of any of this. My only concern is with Tyrell."
"Oh, but that's where you're wrong." She shakes her head slowly. "I can tell you're a good person, Regan. You do not wish harm on anyone, even your enemies. You could have easily killed me back in the prison by grabbing a dagger or a sword instead of the shield, but instead, you decided to knock me out, as well as the soldiers."
"Aramora can change people. And with your skill of getting into people's heads, I think it's safe to say you won't be so passive forever. Perhaps the only way for me to win is not at my own game, but at yours," she hisses,
"Let's see how far you can bend before you break."
Regan shakes his head and takes a deep breath. "I won't break. I won't be like you."
"But you will. If not... it won't be you who pays for it, but the one you love."
She turns around and begins walking off into the forest. "You'd better get back to Cree, Regan! Wouldn't want to risk not being there in time in case something were to happen!" She laughs venomously as she disappears into the shadows of the night.
Without a moment of hesitation, he takes off back in the direction of the camp.