Our adversaries had taken us to a tavern deep within the woods, which seemed to serve as their headquarters. The journey through the dense forest had been long and grueling, each step echoing with the ominous promise of what awaited us. As we approached the tavern, its worn exterior and the flickering light from its windows gave off an unsettling aura. The creak of the door as we were ushered inside revealed a scene far more menacing than I had anticipated.

The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of sweat, ale, and something acrid that I couldn't quite place. The wooden beams overhead seemed to close in on us, adding to the claustrophobic feel of the room. It was filled with even more frightening men, their faces shadowed and sinister. Their laughter was raucous and crude, punctuated by the occasional crash of tankards and the clinking of coins. The atmosphere was lively and boisterous, but there was an underlying tension that set my nerves on edge.

I didn't like the looks they were giving me. Their gazes lingered too long, their eyes roaming over me with unsavory intentions. Each leering glance made my skin crawl, and I felt the weight of their stares as if they were physical touches. They whispered among themselves, their words indecipherable but their meaning clear. I could feel the malice and desire emanating from them, a dangerous combination that made my heart race with fear and anger.

During the walk here, Leif and Minerva had tried to get more information out of our captors, but their attempts were met with threats of "cutting the dead weight," which clearly meant killing them. That shut them up quickly. Our captors had the upper hand and there was nothing Leif and Minerva could do without risking all of our lives.

Their leader motioned for me to sit on a chair in the tavern. I obliged, though I didn't like following his orders. My ankle throbbed with pain, and I needed to get off it. I watched as Leif and Minerva were ushered toward another room. They resisted, their determination to stay with me evident in their defiance.

"Hey, where are you taking them!" I shouted, my anger flaring.

"Feisty," the leader murmured, causing his men to laugh. "They'll be fine. It's just that they aren't great company. You'll have a better time with us alone."

At that comment, Leif and Minerva began to fight back in earnest. The leader turned to me with a smirk. "Tell them to comply, or they die."

"Just listen to him!" I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation. "I'll be fine."

Both Leif and Minerva looked at me, their expressions filled with reluctance and worry. But they knew that if they resisted further, it would only make matters worse. With a few more shoves, they were forced out of my sight. I was left alone in the tavern room, surrounded by menacing figures and their young leader, whose eyes never left me.

He sauntered over, his gaze intense. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and admiration. "But let's see how long that lasts."

The men around us laughed, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I needed to find a way out, but for now, I had to bide my time and stay strong. Leif and Minerva would find a way to get us out of this mess, I was sure of it. Until then, I had to keep my wits about me and endure whatever came my way.

As night set in, the men became more drunk and more boisterous. They enjoyed "bragging" to me about their past kills and how much they got paid for them. It was disgusting. They also repeatedly tried to get me to drink, which I adamantly refused for as long as I could.

"Oh, come on, don't act like that. We've been good hosts, haven't we? Now play along before we become less hospitable," the leader said, his tone and eyes darkening. At that point, I reluctantly took a sip of the awful drink they were having. He laughed at this and purred, "Good girl." The words made my spine crawl.

I sat there, nursing my single sip of the foul brew, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. For now, I just had to do as they asked. The more they drank, the more likely they were to forget their mission, and the less selling me without injury would matter.

I glanced around the room, looking for any sign of Leif or Minerva. I hoped they were safe, that they had a plan. Their leader's eyes never left me, a predator watching his prey. I had to stay sharp, had to bide my time.

The night dragged on, each passing minute feeling like an eternity. The men's drunken boasting grew louder, their stories more grotesque. I nodded along, feigning interest, all the while planning my next move. If I could just get to the door, if I could just find a way to signal Leif and Minerva...

The leader finally stood, wobbling slightly from the drink. He raised his mug high, sloshing the contents over the rim. "To a profitable night, boys! And to our esteemed guest, who's going to make us all very rich!"

The room erupted in cheers, and I forced myself to smile and raise my mug in a mock toast. Inside, I was seething, every fiber of my being yearning to break free. But I knew I had to be patient, had to wait for the right moment.

As the leader sat back down, his eyes met mine. "Enjoying yourself, Miss Emberlyn?" he asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

I nodded, my voice steady despite the fear and anger boiling within me. "Immensely."

He smirked, clearly pleased with my response. "Good. Keep that attitude, and this will all be over before you know it."

I nodded again, my mind already working on how to turn this situation to my advantage. The night was far from over, and I was determined to make it through unscathed.

The leader couldn't help but scoot closer to me, his fingers weaving through my hair, making my stomach churn. "I'm Darius, by the way," he said with a smirk that made my skin crawl.

I knew I had to remind him of his original plan, to distract him. "So, Darius, who will you sell me to? My father or the king?" I asked, my voice steady despite the rising bile in my throat. I had heard them bragging all night about how both of them wanted me and how much money I would bring in.

Darius's grin widened, his eyes glinting with a perverse satisfaction. "Well, sweetheart, originally I had planned to start a bidding war. See who you were worth more to."

This man was sick. "Perhaps even to one of the king's enemies, if they would pay more. Rumors of his care for you have spread. That makes you very valuable for those who want leverage against the conqueror."

I couldn't help but let my worry show on my face. I had hoped that the worst fate of this capture would be being returned to my father. Now, it was clear that things could get much, much worse.

Darius seemed to enjoy my discomfort, his fingers still tangled in my hair. "You see, Elara, you're more than just a bargaining chip. You're a weapon. And weapons like you fetch a high price in the right hands."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. "And you think you can handle that? Making enemies with both my father and the king?"

Darius laughed, a dark, humorless sound. "I've made a living out of handling dangerous situations, sweetheart. Besides, by the time they find you, I'll be long gone with my reward."

The room's laughter and raucous behavior faded into the background as I focused on the man before me. He was clearly a seasoned criminal, one who thrived on chaos and danger. I had to be careful, had to think of a way to turn this situation to my advantage.

The thought of being used as a pawn in some twisted game of power made my skin crawl, but I knew I couldn't show fear. I needed to stay strong, to find a way to outsmart him. For now, I had to play along, to bide my time and wait for the right moment.

As Darius and his men continued their drunken revelry, I sat quietly, plotting my next move. I refused to be a helpless victim. I would find a way out of this, no matter what it took.

"I've been thinking," Darius said, his sickening eyes locking onto mine. "Time only makes the heart grow fonder." Where is he going with this? "Perhaps, if I keep you to myself for a while, the price on your head will rise."

My stomach dropped again. No, this couldn't be happening. Suddenly, he grabbed my face and shoved his lips onto mine. I struggled as he tried to force his tongue past my lips. Desperation surged through me, and with all my might, I pushed him away. His partially drunken state worked to my advantage, and I succeeded.

Before I could think, I slapped him, hard.

I was an idiot. What was I thinking provoking this man? Disgust and fear warred within me. My fate was in his hands. The look of shock on his face quickly morphed into one of pure rage. In an instant, his hand met my face with a searing pain, and I was knocked to the floor.

He slapped me back. The impact echoed through the room, drawing the attention of everyone present. "You bitch," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

The room fell silent, all eyes on us. My cheek throbbed with pain, but I refused to let him see me cry. I struggled to my feet, my defiance still burning despite the fear coursing through me.

"You think you can just hit me and get away with it?" Darius growled, stepping closer. The menace in his eyes was unmistakable.

"You can't keep me here forever," I spat back, my voice trembling but resolute. "Someone will come for me."

He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. "Oh, I'm counting on it. The higher the stakes, the higher the reward."

The room's tension thickened, and I knew I had to be careful. I needed to survive, to find a way out. But right now, all I could do was endure.

The men in the room exchanged uneasy glances, some of them shifting uncomfortably. Even in their drunken state, they could sense the shift in power, the danger in provoking Darius.

Darius grabbed my arm, pulling me closer. "You better learn your place, Elara. You're mine now. And you'll do as I say, or you'll suffer the consequences."

I glared at him, refusing to back down. "You'll regret this," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His grip tightened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "We'll see about that," he hissed.

As he pushed me back into the chair, I knew I had to be smart. My every move would be watched, and any sign of defiance would be punished. But I couldn't give up hope. I had to believe that I could find a way to get out of this. And until then, I would simply survive.

Things only got worse after that, much worse. When I still had his favor, Darius kept his men at bay. Yet now, the men had become rougher, and he let them. They would grab me and force me to dance with them, whispering disgusting words in my ear, and Darius allowed it all.

One especially drunk man's grip was tight and painful, his breath hot and sour against my skin. "Come on, sweetheart," he slurred, yanking me closer as I tried to pull away. "Don't be so shy."

His hands roamed inappropriately, and every time I tried to resist, he squeezed harder. "You think you're too good for us?" he spat, his voice growing angrier with each word. "Dancing with a pretty lady like you should be a privilege for us, huh? Is that what you think?"

I tried to turn my head away from his foul breath, but he grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. "You're not going anywhere," he hissed. The room's laughter and jeers grew louder, egging him on.

"Let me go," I demanded, though my voice shook.

"Not until you learn to appreciate our hospitality," he sneered. His hand shot up, and before I could react, he slapped me hard across the face. The pain exploded, stars dancing in my vision. I stumbled, barely staying on my feet. This slap was much harder.

The room fell silent for a heartbeat, the only sound my ragged breathing. Blood trickled from my nose and lip, dripping onto my chin. I could taste the metallic tang, feel the warmth of my blood. I looked to Darius, hoping for some intervention, but he just smirked, clearly enjoying my torment.

I had hoped that my value as a captive would keep them from hurting me, but I was wrong. The men took my silence as submission, their hands growing bolder, their whispers more lewd and threatening. Each touch, each word, felt like a brand on my skin.

"Please," I whispered, trying to appeal to some sense of decency in Darius. But he only raised his drink in mock salute, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

"Enjoying yourself, Elara?" he called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I had to stay strong, to find some way to endure this nightmare. But with every passing moment, the weight of my captivity grew heavier, and the hope of rescue seemed more and more distant.

One sickening man made a comment. "Well, if she won't dance, she's got no use for feet, does she?" My stomach dropped, a cold dread washing over me. What was he implying? He laughed after, not an entirely sinister laugh, but as though it were a joke. That made my heart settle slightly. That is, until Darius chimed in.

"You have a point. We need her alive, but not necessarily in one piece."

No, no, no. Panic surged through me, my heart pounding in my chest. "Neither the king nor my father would ever let you get away with it if you hurt me," I threatened, trying to sound strong, but my voice wavered.

"Or," Darius countered, his tone suddenly deadly serious, "they may become even more compliant, realizing for certain that your life is at stake."

He wasn't joking. The room's atmosphere shifted, the air growing thick with tension. The drunken merriment drained away, replaced by a cold, calculating menace. The men's laughter ceased, replaced by a silence that was far more terrifying. My heart raced as Darius stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine with a predatory gleam. He was testing me, pushing to see how far he could go, and the realization made my blood run cold.

"Please," I whispered, trying to appeal to some sense of humanity, but my plea fell on deaf ears.

I glanced around, looking for any sign of sympathy or hesitation among the men, but found none. They were hardened, ruthless, and willing to follow Darius's lead without question. My mind raced, desperately searching for a way out, but every avenue seemed blocked by the grim reality of my situation.

"Two fingers," he said, making my breath stop. "One for the king and one for the lord. They will raise the price on your head, and quickly. That is, if they want to receive the rest of you instead of more pieces."

No. No, I would not let this happen. I knew I was no warrior. I was not skilled or trained to fight, nor was I the most intelligent person I knew. But I would not comply. I would not let these men have their way. I would fight. They were all drunk; that gave me some advantage.

That whole night, I had been studying my surroundings. I knew the door Leif and Minerva went through. I knew where weapons lay. Maybe I could fight my way to that door, to my friends, my allies. If I could make it to them, and maybe give them a weapon or two, perhaps we could get out of this.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. My heart raced, but I forced my mind to focus. The room was filled with the noise of drunken men, a few starting to close in on me and carry out Darius' order. I scanned the room once more, noting the positions of various objects that could be used as weapons. A knife on the table, a broken bottle on the floor, a chair that could be used to block an attack.

Darius was still watching me, a cruel smile on his face, enjoying my fear. I had to act fast, had to surprise them. I reached for the nearest weapon—a heavy glass bottle. My fingers closed around its neck, and I stood up suddenly, swinging it with all my might at the man closest to me. The bottle shattered against his head, and he went down with a grunt.

Chaos erupted and I didn't waste a second, darting towards the door Leif and Minerva had been taken through. Another man lunged at me, but I ducked under his grasp as I passed.

I had almost made it. The door was within reach. Then suddenly, I felt a hand grab me and throw me to the floor. It was Darius. He simply laughed and said, "Well, I guess now is time for the real fun to begin."

I was proud of myself. I had fought, and I would continue to fight with all my might. I felt a kick in my side, and the pain swirled through me. I had made it so far, done so many things I would have never imagined I could do. If this was the end, then I accepted that. But I was not done fighting.

I heard Darius step closer, ready to do his worst, then frantic neighing sounds from outside made the men pause. What was happening?

The room fell silent for a moment, the raucous laughter and jeering replaced by tense curiosity. Darius' sneer faded as he turned towards the door. The sound of hooves grew louder, more frantic. The men exchanged confused glances, their drunken stupor momentarily broken.

Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud crash. A figure stood silhouetted against the dim light from outside. My heart leapt with a mixture of hope and disbelief.

It was Malachi.

A/N: Next chapter will be Malachi's POV!!!