"Do you think she'll wake up?"
"If she doesn't then He's have your head. Did you not realise that she was one of Them."
Adira could make out breathy whispers all around her but the voices were alien. She tried to open her eyes but the mere thought made her head groan in pain. Her body felt like it had been on fire. The limbs aching like she's been working in the farms for days without rest. Even lying still was costing her energy.
She felt like she was trapped in a box with no exit as her breathing became laboured and she was lulled into another long  sleep by whispers in a tongue she'd never heard but somehow gave her the warm feeling of safety

In luxuriously decorated room he sat on high backed chair, pounding like a cat waiting for its prey. His dark robes gleamed like the fabric had been cut from the night sky but the most captivating thing was the man with skin like ivory and onyx hair that brushed his chin. He wasn't a cat: no he was an untamed lion who already had his prey and was playing with it.
Beneath him kneeling was another man, who would've passed for an arrogant brute had he not been cowering and praying fanatically. He was a soldier with muscles cording every inch of his flush skin which now looked a sickly grey and to any naive person it would seem that the soldier could easily overpower the beautiful man with a slender figure graced by slight muscle who looked like he'd never seen the outdoors. The Soldier's face was patchwork of pink are honey and looked like it'd been burned and though it had been a day, the smell of charred flesh was fresh in the atmosphere.
The Man stood lazily from the chair as though he had all the time in the world which he probably did while the Soldier, on the other hand, stopped all his fidgeting and began crawling away like the face of his nightmares and come for him which probably was true. The Man pulled of the hood that was obscuring most of his face save his granite hewn jaw.
His face was still in the shadows as he flippantly asked "Did you touch what's mine?" As if he was inquiring about the weather but the Soldier's face blanched.
But true terror came when the man turned around and looked him right in the eye. Blazing purple met dredge brown ones and then there was agony.
The Man's face was exquisite almost outwardly. His features were hewn out of stone reinforced by the stony expression on his face. But the even the stoic and beautiful face couldn't hide the streak of sadistic cruelty tinging his smile. The Beautiful man looked down at the Soldier with a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised and his purple eyes flashed for a second but that was enough.
The sight was something out of a nightmare. There stood a man with beauty and power while another twice his size kneeled before him trying to move to escape but stuck in time for that's why had happened. The soldier stood still, unable to move, stuck in time with an expression of fear like one of Medusa's victims as he felt the air leave his lungs.
The Beautiful man stood still, where he was watching and thinking. He had finally felt what was his and this bastard had dared touched it. He absentmindedly twirled the ring on his finger, his anchor.
Zachary has never shared what was his and the Soldier had put his hands where they did not belong. Perhaps that was the reason that they lay ripped in a corner far away from his body.

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