King Ragnar and all of his sons looks almost the same. Strong sharp features. Their skin tan, the fires of Hades had kissed them. Their eyes all dark almost consumed by their always dilated pupils. Broad in the shoulders and dark hair all of them but Ranja.

When Ranja was first born there were rumors the Queen had bed another man because of his fair hair but they halted as he grew older and became a carbon copy of the King.

The King stalked towards them and grabbed Leila's face in one strong hand. He drank in her appearance, from her golden white locks, sleek cheekbones and slightly swollen lips. He licked his lips his eyes filled with lust.

“You share your mother’s beauty.” He stated. “Put her down Ranja and bring in the prisoners.”

Ranja stood her on her feet before rushing off to do as the King commanded him. Her eyes followed him until he was out of sight. Her heart sank with dread, Ragnar circled her like prey. “Do you know what took place last night?” His eyebrow darted up with inquisitively.

Leila couldn't find her words so she simply nodded her head in acknowledgment.

“Hmm,” was all that came from the cruel ruler.

A door creaked open and three people sauntered in chains and shackles with bags over their heads, guarded by two soldiers and Ranja. Leila stood paralyzed where she was at, her heart beat against her breastbone.

The prisoners were kneeled in front of their King and one by one the bags were removed from their heads. A sob broke Leila’s silence when she realized it was her remaining family. Her mother, her father and her uncle. The all turned their heads at the sound and her mother let out her own cry.

“Leila!” She tried to get up but was struck down by Ranja.

“Stop!” Leila begged her eyes locked on the King. “Please, please don't hurt them…” Her words drifted off as Ragnar made his way over to her.

“Shh, sweet Leila,” he stroked her cheek. “There, there. Radanon tend to her wounds that I assume you inflicted on her.”

Radanon glared at her, but accepted the dish of water and rag a servant offered him. A few large strides later and he stood behind her, ripped her gown roughly, she cried out softly as he washed her wounded shoulder. He tore a piece of fabric from the rag and tied it around her open wound.

“There father,” he spat with disgust. He walked away but not before he tossed another glare at her.

“Thank you, son.” King Ragnar emphasized the word son to remind the strong headed boy his place.

“As you know Leila your family and select few members of my council tried to overthrow me from my rightful place as King.” He's words were sharp as he circled her once more.

“As you can tell by the position they are in it did not work,” he chuckled with amusement.