Rabid For Her Revenge

Fresh mountain air blew across my face and I inhaled deeply, identifying every smell in that single breeze. I could smell the pine sap and the crisp autumn leaves, the river and the flowers all around me.

Today the sun had called to me, invited me to bask in its warmth so I had ventured out to the back patio, passing through the open archways, the black and white checkered floor leading down to a set of stairs to the first tier of the garden.

The first tier was full of huge potted plants stationed in elaborate vases with white sculptures decorating the garden between the brilliant green hedges. I found myself focusing on the vibrant colored flowers instead, the color green causing my stomach to curl.

Today I had ditched my sweatpants and large sweaters that had become my daily wardrobe. Instead, I had pulled out a pair of black jeans and a purple and white abstract shirt that was sleeveless.

I delighted in the chill that swept across my skin, eliciting goosebumps in its wake.

My wide brimmed black hat and sunglasses shaded me from the bright rays of the sun and allowed me to nap comfortably. I wasn’t bothered and my meals followed where I went, appearing on the little table next to my black wicker chair.

The flap of heavy wings caused me to open my eyes and look for the source. The fluttering of song bird wings had only added to the symphony that nature created but the large woosh that resulted from the bird of prey was intrusive and worthy of pause and observation.

Much to my surprise an osprey with feathers that were white and black rather than white and brown was perched on the back of the wicker chair separated from me by the little glass table in between. It craned its neck as it looked at me with one of its yellow eyes.

I slowly removed my sunglasses, pulling them down over my nose as I stared back. I tilted my head in kind and watched the bird as it watched me.

When it flicked its head the other direction, I saw that the eye was a solid orb of milky grey.

“You are blind?” I asked it, wanting to know the story behind it.

Of course, the bird did not reply but it ruffled its feathers in a silent demand for something. I chuckled and lifted my arm out towards it, displaying my wrist and the three raised white lines there. “He removed three strips of muscle from my wrist after I slapped him when he bit me. I couldn’t move my hand for three weeks until the muscles grew back.” I shared my story with the bird. “What about you?”

The bird lifted its wings, and with a small flap it swooped down and snatched up my sandwich.

“Ahh a fight for food?” I pushed my sunglasses back up my nose. “Did you win?” I asked it.

The bird let out a shrill cry and took off into the air, my sandwich still in its claws.

I smiled at the bird, impressed that it still had the guts to fly despite its scar.

“I’ve never seen Gladious come so close to anyone before,” a voice I hadn’t heard in over a week came from behind me.

“He just wanted my food,” I easily dismissed.

“Maybe.”

The male took the seat that the osprey had vacated. He braced his elbows on his knees his hands clasped together, his pointer fingers pressed against his lips as he stared out over his garden.

His black hair was different since I had last seen it. Now the sides were shaved closer to his head and the top was left longer where it was spiked up though I believed that was from him running his hand through the gelled strands.

“How are you doing?” he asked me.

My lips twitched as I tried to keep them from pulling up into a smirk. Sarakiel was certainly well mannered, starting off with asking after my needs before stating his own.

“Well, I’m not currently dead nor being stretched out on a metal table while being drawn and quartered so I am expected to say that I am well I suppose.” I drawled, grateful for the sunglasses on my face so that he couldn’t see me looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

The male’s fingers fell from his lips. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, and I tilted my chin in a silent gesture for him to elaborate. “You said that you are expected to say,” he said, “so do you mean to say that you are not faring well?”

I did not attempt to hide the downward curve of my lips or the flatness in my tone as I replied, “Old habits.” I said nothing further, not wishing to explain or go into greater detail. Questions had become obscure to me. I had become accustomed to saying what Myrin wanted to hear, I always had to think before replying, even if my answer was false.

Sarakiel’s throat bobbed down then up as he swallowed back his question. I was intrigued by him once again, finding it fascinating that a male resisted his wants. To not ask me the hundreds of questions that were sure to be on his tongue, was a symbol of self-restraint I did not see many males possess.

Myrin was the only other male that had self-restraint, but even then, he sometimes snapped. I provoked him too far at times where he would forget my limits and render me unconscious for days where he could do nothing to me as I healed to a state that he could wreck me all over again. Myrin’s self-restraint benefited him in the long run though. Although it sometimes restricted the extent to which he could hurt me, it kept me alive for him to play with another day.

Sarakiel was different though, he could push me until I spilled all my secrets, share every story and he would only gain from it. His self-restraint benefited me, at least that’s how I saw it for now.

“In two weeks time you will need to accompany me to a banquet. A One in the Northern Province is hosting a party in honor of his newly born heir. All of the Ones in the northern territories are invited. This will be a good chance for me to introduce you to them, you can feel them out for yourself.”

Straight down to business, no dancing around it or asking needlessly. He didn’t ask because I didn’t have a choice and I appreciated the truth of it. I preferred he not give me the illusion of a choice I did not have.

It was per our agreement anyway, so I had no dispute with him.

“Will Ones from other provinces be present?” I asked, careful to keep my tone void of emotion. I did not want to hint at anything he didn’t need to know.

“No,” he said, “this is a closed event, invitation only.”

The Northern Province only.

Good.

That was a good starting point. There were too many faces in the Western Province that I would probably kill without much forethought. There was however, one male in the Western Province that interested me.

Ramiel, it seemed had a good story to tell, a story that I wanted to hear.

Sarakiel stood then, holding out a hand for me to take.

I daintily placed my hand in his and stood up gracefully from my chair, offering him a curtsy. “I do know how to act in a civilized and submissive manner expected of a female.” I grinned up at him but there was nothing friendly about it. “Don’t waste my time or any other’s with trying to teach me etiquette lessons.”

Although he had said nothing about it, I knew he was concerned about my temperament.

“I don’t expect you to be a perfect lady,” he refuted.

I quirked a brow and slid my hand from his. “And what are my limits exactly? What will you let me get away with?”

The male simply held out his arm for me and I grabbed his arm properly as he began escorting me back up to the patio. “Think of this as a trial run. We will both be testing the waters and if you go too far, I will tell you.”

“I will not allow you to punish me in front of them,” I warned him in a low voice.

“Of course not,” he responded immediately, “but if propriety demands it, I will put you in your place.”

Humming in response, I let the male lead me around the patio to the front of the mansion.

I didn’t know how what he had said could be any different, but I decided that it was better to experience this for myself should it happen. As he said this first night would be a test, he could test my limits and I would test his. It was a fair deal.

Coming around from the back to the front my eyes were immediately drawn to the figures chatting amiably with one another. Waiting there on the gravel, leaning on two sleek black cars were a few males. I knew instantly that they were all ranked and either they had just gotten back or were waiting to leave.

I stopped before the three steps that descended from the mansion that had become my territory, a place I knew and currently considered mine. The smooth gravel signified the unknown, uncharted waters.

Once that aspect had excited me. I loved to explore new places, enjoyed wandering and learning secrets and stories, delighted in the absolute freedom. Now, now it was different. I was not the same stupid girl I had been. I knew that the moment I stepped off these steps that I was throwing myself to the wolves.

People wanted me dead, people wanted to see me broken. I was no longer flying under the radar now that I was in everyone’s sights. They would notice me no matter how I tried to hide. They would be malicious and savage and combating against their scheming would be exhausting.

I couldn’t return as the weasel I had once been, slinking into tiny holes to hide and stealing information like a thief that no one noticed. I could no longer let my ego wag my tongue with underhanded comments and insults.

I’d have to be the same monsters as the rest of them. Only smarter and stronger, more evil. I would have to face them like the superior predator head on, submerge myself in their crafty schemes and gossip.

Sarakiel looked back at me when I did not move forward with him. He looked at my hand that was gripping his arm tighter, my refusal to budge causing him to stay on the steps as well.

Mistaking my hesitance to leave the steps as concern for my bare feet being embedded on the tiny sharp rocks that made up the gravel, he called the males over to us with a few harsh commands.

I was not fazed by the complete switch of his tone. This was the domineering male I knew him to be, the leader and superior male. His cold and clipped words were what I expected from him, though it fully occurred to me then how he never spoke to me in the same way.

Another sign of us being equals?

I didn’t know but my curiosity was piqued, and I would observe this more carefully in the future.

I let the males come over to us, not stopping Sarakiel’s orders. For one, I didn’t want to undermine him as that could quite possibly destroy the strange trust that was between us. For two, I could care less if these males found it backwards to have to come to me instead of the other way around. As Sarakiel had said, I was above everyone but him. Good, let them see that as well. And for three, I was too damn lazy to say something or approach them anyway.

Sarakiel was talking to them, his words swift and low. He made a few gestures with his hands that seemed to have meaning to the others, but I was too busy watching one of the males to try and decipher them.

My gaze was fixed on the brown hair and amber eyes male that had exchanged a story with me. He was wearing a high collared jacket that one could easily dismiss as protection against the brisk autumn air, but I could see the hint of the scars I had left as a gift for him. They were almost completely faded already but my artwork was still visible. The seven I had left on his face he could not hide though, and I wondered what story he told to those who asked.

Even though my dark sunglasses shielded my eyes and the evidence of my staring, the male must have felt my eyes boring into him because he turned to meet my gaze.

We stared at each other, long enough for the others to take notice and turn their attention to us.

A smile twisted up my lips and in a lucid voice I sang, “From pride to fall to higher than all, to lost and confused and then a subordinate too.” The male stiffened as I summarized his story. My words only held meaning to us, utter gibberish to outside ears. “The scars have healed, a new story can be traced, I’m interested to know if they left you disgraced?” I was receiving odd looks from the others who no doubt believed that I had gone insane as I spoke in rhyme to their peer. I cocked my head so far that my hat nearly slid off my head.

I waited, giving the male a chance to answer my question, to admit to the others that he knew what I was talking about and that I was not completely bat-shit crazy.

He didn’t though which only made me grin wider.

An interesting choice.

“Daylin?” Sarakiel asked cautiously behind me, probably wary that I had snapped and was off my rocker. It had been the first time he had spoken my name, I realized, and it sounded foreign to my own ears.

Besides the fact the council used it to accuse me and sentence me I hadn’t heard my name in years. Myrin had certainly never used it and I was never in the habit of giving it to strangers. My name held no meaning to me, it was a label more than anything.

I stared at the amber eyed male for a second more before turning my attention to Sarakiel. I slowly removed the black sun hat letting it fall to the ground. I then pulled off my sunglasses and tossed them on top of the hat. From there I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and yanked it off in one fluid motion before shrugging off the straps of the black tank top I had on underneath and rolled it down until it was beneath my sports bra.

I watched all eyes zone in on the rings of scars that were clearly visible on my pale skin but today I did not wish to tell their story, instead I stretched out my neck, tilting my chin up to display the tiny lacerations across my throat going from the underside of my chin all the way down to the hollow of my throat in diagonal lines.

“Once upon a time,” I started mocking the amber eyed male as I briefly glanced at him, “there was a caged animal that had been beaten and tortured by its captor. Instead of breaking under the torment the animal only grew to loathe its captor. When the cruel hand of the captor was raised the little animal did not cower away in fear but bared its teeth and hissed back. And so it continued, knowing what its defiance would mean in the end but repeating the actions that only got it hurt again and again. Eventually the little animal stopped hissing, but still it bared its teeth. The captor only grew more infuriated by his lack of mastery over the caged animal. He had thought he had finally won only to be humiliated by the continued act of defiance.”

I dragged a finger down my neck, the pad running over the bumpy ridge of the scars. I had received these cuts every time I stayed silent when expected to answer. These cuts had been opened again and again with the sharp needles leaving the scars that otherwise would have vanished.

I lowered my chin and slipped the tank top back over my shoulders before gathering the rest of my things in my arms. When I again met those amber eyes, I knew that he understood my story. He realized my story had been for him, another lesson to take away from his actions. My silence had hurt me as much as it did to lie and yet more so. My silence had invoked a deeper fury, defiance to answer at all on top of defiance to tell the truth.

I ducked my head to Sarakiel, “Please excuse me, if you had something else to discuss we can talk later.” With a single nod in affirmation I was off, striding towards the doors that would lead into the house.

Lifting my hand to knock on the doors of which the cranky old butler was waiting behind I said, “Remember our deal, one for one.”

My words were left open for the others to make of them what they would, but I knew that a certain amber eyed male would be paying me a visit quite soon and hopefully I would get another story to help me unravel the mystery behind the male.