Each time Leila would find herself with enough energy to fight out of Ranja’s grip he would draw more from her. It was like he knew she was about to fight him before she actually did. Hope would swell in her breast only to slip away as soon as it had appeared.

They arrived at the kingdom in no time, Radanon and Raku waited for them in front of the decayed castle. Before they entered Radanon gripped her face and forced her to look left, the sight of severed heads that were on pikes invaded her vision. One in particular drew her attention, sweet white locks billowed in the breeze, lifeless blue eyes that had once been striking.

“No…” She squeaked, tears stung her eyes. “Lynleigh!” She screamed, her older sister’s face held a horrific expression. She fought as hard as she could against both set of arms that restrained her. “You fucking monsters! You heartless monsters!!” She thrashed as hard as she could, she tried to use all her might but she was weak from all the energy Ranja had taken from her.

Radanon gripped her by the throat, easily lifted her from the ground. The constriction on her throat caused the tears to spill down her cheeks. He pulled her close, mere inches from his face. “You listen to me bitch, had your family not have tried to overthrow our father your sister would be alive. Don’t worry though she was used before she was beheaded,” he taunted her.

With all her might Leila raked her fingernails across Radanon’s perfect face. Taken by surprised he dropped her, she landed on the ground in a heap. She coughed, sputtered and tried to drink in the air greedily. Soon blow to her stomach sucked the air from her lungs as she curled up in a tight ball from the hard blow.

“You cunt! You better hope this doesn’t fucking scar!” Radanon growled before he stalked off inside.

“You best stop upsetting Radanon or he will kill you,” Ranja warned her.
“Good he would put me out of my misery then,” Leila croaked.

The eldest Prince shook his head in disapproval but none the less picked her up and carried her inside bridal style. She hated being weak and she didn’t enjoy being held like a baby by someone that had probably taken part in the slaughter of her dear sister.

The doors to the throne room were already held open as the two entered. King Ragnar sat on his throne of skulls all high and mighty. His cold dark gaze lit up as he saw them enter as he stood up and clasped his hands in front of him. “Finally she is here!”