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Get in the bed
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2024-10-24 12:24:48Before Rose had left Sherry's hand, she'd had a good exchange of words with her step brother which Sherry had really found it... She didn't know how to really term the words, because one was surprisingly angry while the other was really composed.
This is how their banter had gone before Rose finally released her. Rose out of anger only turned Sherryl’s arm to another side where the furrow between the captive’s forehead increased. Dallion, noticing this, looked at his butler who was quietly standing by. Raising the rolled-up document, he handed it to him. “Take this to Gray's mansion,” the butler bowed his head, not spending another minute as the order had been given. He walked towards the main doors and away from them. “Let go of her, sister.” Rose tilted her head in curiosity, “Why? She doesn’t even know who the mistress is. She even shows the courage to deflect me.”
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Rose his younger step sister, as she liked to be called—was a fierce opponent. For a split second, Sherryl had believed Rose would snap her arm like a twig, but then Dallion had arrived, saving her from an imminent breaking. Still, grabbing Rose’s hand in reflex had been a mistake—a direct challenge. And now Sherryl was sure she’d made it onto Rose’s personal hit list. As she lay there contemplating her options, her mind drifted to escape plans. She had to get out before it was too late. Two hours, Dallion had said in the car earlier. It was all she needed to flee the city. Maybe she could make it to Cross empire’s neighboring districts, but first, she'd need to be careful, as she bide her time. To he she'll either run to the eastern part of Bone lake into Indiana Valleys or maybe move towards Blue city Somewhere out of his reach. But what about the photo and fingerprints he claimed to
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The girl should have been happy to have a bed to sleep on. A roof over her head to protect herself, unlike the filthy conditions she had been subjected to at the captive establishment. Instead, she was being cheeky, thought Dallion to himself. He had taken her out today to show what life offered to captives in this and other places. Captives were nothing more than tools for the amusement of the higher society. As they were bought with the owner's money, the owner had full control to do anything for their pleasure or entertainment. What Sherryl saw today was merely a glimpse of the dark world she had unwittingly become a part of. Dallion hadn’t brought her on a whim but because he wanted her—wanted to possess her completely—and wouldn’t allow anyone else the privilege of what was his now. Compared to the other captives, she was rather fortunate. And undoubtedly, she would come to appreciate his unique form of kindness, he
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Her mouth had gone dry. Her mind raced with thoughts of what might happen to her next. She realized now that he hadn’t buttoned his shirt yet. She moistened her lips, "There were a few like that." Sherryl had come across many such people in her street, those who had spread untrue rumors, turning others against her and her foster family. Dallion raised a brow, a wicked smile forming on his lips, "Of course. It’s no surprise. The lower class has all the time in the world to gossip, don’t they?" His smile widened, but before Sherryl could voice her opinion, he continued. "There’s not much difference between the lower class and the higher class," Sherryl said, her voice steady despite feeling his finger still resting on her shoulder. It felt like a venomous spider, ready to bite at any moment. "There isn’t," he agreed, surprising her. "Why do you look shocked? We can agree on a few things," he grinned, and for the third time, she noticed the glint of his shiny gun. Was he planning
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Dallion turned around to face her, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Lovely? You should have seen her tear through her enemies like a wolf through prey." He smirked at the shock on her face. "Did you think she was kind?" His laugh was dark, sending a chill through her. Sherry remained silent. "Oh, my little mouse," Dallion’s lips curled into a wicked smile, eyes twinkling with amusement. "I take after my mother. She was beautiful, maybe kind to her children, but you know how I am. Grace takes after our father, but I... I inherited all of my mother’s traits, while sweet Rose has taken after her own mother." Sherry had no words. Her mind reeled at the image of Dallion’s mother, a woman who could tear people apart. She followed him cautiously, aware that there was more lurking beneath his surface. "Don’t judge by appearances," he lectured her, his tone turning condescending. "Learn to look beyond the facade. Use your brain, l
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Once she was up, Sherryl started to balance herself on the branch, which felt weak and shaky. After a few nervous adjustments, she stretched, reaching out to the fruit Dallion had pointed out earlier. Just as she balanced herself, the branch above her, where she had been holding on, snapped into her hand. For a fleeting moment, fear gripped her, but she sighed in relief when nothing catastrophic happened—until she heard another crack. Her heart raced as the branch beneath her gave way. But Sherryl had expected she would hit the ground considering how Dallion was, he was always after making fun of her. Instead, Dallion caught her in time as she fell. She had squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for impact, but when the fall didn’t come, she finally opened her eyes to see him staring at her, calm and composed. "Thank you," she muttered, still catching her breath. "You got my fruit?" Dallion asked nonchalantly. Sherryl looked down at the fruit in her hand, slightly bruised from the ordea
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When an unintended sigh slipped past her lips, it only seemed to fuel the fire already burning in Dallion’s touch. His grip on her tightened, his heart beating steadily, his eyes alive with something dark and dangerous. His control was slipping, and he knew it. Without another word, his teeth extended, sharp and eager. "I need a taste," he murmured, his voice rough with hunger. Before Sherryl could react, Dallion sank his teeth into the side of her neck. Her skin was —warm, rich, intoxicating, it was sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. It made him wonder if it was because of who she was, something about her making it more potent, more addictive. It was like drinking from something rare, something otherworldly. Dallion never cared for attachments, never let himself be bound to anyone. He had always been clear about that. Women came and went, serving a purpose but never staying long enough to matter. But ever since he had laid eyes on
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Dallion studied her intently, his sharp eyes reading every flicker of doubt on her face. But he still answered, "You said you walked there because riots had blocked the main road. You took a different route and eventually found him. Later, you mentioned bringing him back, but by then, it was too late. Your mother’s condition had already worsened. What’s going on, Sherryl? Speak." His voice was firm, demanding. There was an unsettling confusion in Sherryl’s eyes as she tried to piece together the past. Then, out of nowhere, she asked, "If my mom could still be alive… does that mean she would allow me to look for him?" Dallion exhaled deeply, his expression unreadable. "Yes."He didn't want to give her false hopes, he knew her father left them and he was sure her mother wouldn't have allowed her to look for him. Sherryl nodded slowly, but she wasn’t convinced. If her father had left only to return years later, what
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The tent’s lanterns flickered softly, casting golden light over velvet drapes and aged artifacts. The scent of incense thickened the air, mingling with something more primal—the slow hum of anticipation.Sherry sat in the center of the room, wrists bound in silk, the smooth fabric a whisper against her skin. The ties weren’t meant for struggle, but for awareness—of herself, of the watchful presence behind her, and of the woman before her.Bluebeard Lady circled her like a patient instructor, a delicate silver chain swaying between her fingers. “Restraint,” she murmured, “isn’t about holding back. It’s about extending sensation, drawing it out until it becomes something unforgettable.”Sherry swallowed hard, feeling the heat of Dallion’s gaze from his seat across the room. He had yet to speak, but his presence was a force in itself—a quiet command.The woman knelt before Sherry, her fingers ghosting over her skin, feather-light. Even with
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Sherryl Rain kept her head low, focusing on the lesson, even though she knew how rare it was for someone of Grace’s status to take the time to educate a mere servant. Most high-ranking figures in the Cross Empire saw little value in teaching those beneath them. Grace glanced at the worn parchment in front of her before turning her cold gaze to Sherryl, the little mouse that belonged to Dallion. “We’ll stop here for today,” Grace decided, stretching as she closed the book. “I need to take my mother and sister out to the Valley. Would you like to come?” The offer sounded casual, but Sherryl could hear the subtle test in it. “Ever been there before?” Sherryl gave a slight nod. “Master Dallion is taking me somewhere today.” A truthful excuse, but also a way to avoid the suffocating tension she’d have to endure with Grace and her ever-judgmental sister. Without pushing for details, Grace dismissed her, and Sherryl exhaled a brea
