Isabella was awoken by the sound of laughter. Her eyes shot opened and her whole body tensed, instinct and habit kicking in. She stood up as fast as she could and looked around for somewhere to hide or something –anything- to use as a weapon. The sound of another laugh startled her so her gaze followed the place to where the sound had come from: soldiers. Two of them were standing in the tent's opening, and they were talking with each other cheerfully. She relaxed a little bit as soon as the memories of the last day flew through her mind. Another sound, someone clearing their throat. She tensed again and looked behind her.

Rowan was standing behind her, his chest popped out, his arms crossed over his chest and his feet separated. There was no doubt of his career, he didn't just look like a soldier but also behaved like one. Which totally made sense, but Isabella'd had bad experiences with soldiers and, even if she had a huge crush on him, the reminder of his nature made her feel wary. Lorcan was leaning on one of the tent's pools while Gavriel stood close to the only table in the tent.

Any bit of relaxation her mind and body had grasped after remembering where she was, was soon replaced by a flame of fear burning inside of her. She went tense again and tried not to look like it. If she had learned something in the last three years as a prisoner was that it was better not to appear afraid. Because predators loved it when their prey feared them. They could smell it. And she was sure that fae could, too.

They are animals, she told herself. They didn't look like it, not much at least. They appeared to be humans, only their ears seemed to give them away. Their unbelievable attractive looks were a distraction. Once they opened their mouths anyone could see their unnatural long and feral fangs. And the way they moved, more gracefully than any human could; and when they stood still, it was as if they weren't even breathing. Only they could stay still like that. It was a bit unnerving.

Even if they hadn't harmed her, -well, Rowan did treat her rudely and ordered a soldier to grab her but it hadn't been Rowan the one to leave a mark in her wrists- it was not too late to suspect them. She had been too shocked, too confused, and too distracted by their little acts of decency to fear them. But she did now. Her mind reached a place of alarming calm and her whole body went on pilot. For three years, she had survived because she hadn't trusted anyone, because she had been always on alert, always ready to jump; because she had always been in danger. Now, her body was more used to her instinct taking control over her than behaving the way she truly wanted to. And it was a good thing, because it meant that she was not completely blind here.

Nevertheless, she wasn't shocked anymore. She was fully awake, attentive, and vigilant. But they had been standing there while she slept. It was so creepy that Isabella had to suppress a shiver. Crush or no, she didn't trust them. She cursed herself for behaving so carelessly the night before. Careless people didn't survive.

Gavriel took a tentative step towards her, he had obviously noticed the shift in her attitude; his hands opened and slightly raised in front of him. He moved as if he was dealing with a wild, scared animal, not her. She couldn't help the annoyance that rose inside of her. She was not a weakling that needed to be treated like a wounded animal. Did she have some issues? Sure. A couple of traumas? Of course. But that didn't mean she wanted to be treated as if she was about to explode in any second. Gavriel moved his arms slowly and her gaze followed to where he wanted her to: a plate of food resting on the table. A plate of food for her. He moved one of the chairs and left it close to where her food was, as if he were inviting her to sit. She didn't move. Gavriel left the chair in its place and walked to where Rowan and Lorcan stood. She noticed what he was doing. He was trying to show her that they were not a threat, that she could take her time; that they wouldn't force her to do anything. She felt the sudden need to punch them for being so nice when she was trying to be cautious.

She wanted to eat the food they were offering her. She really wanted to. Not even an hour had gone by after she had puked when her stomach had started growling again. She was famished. And the food –scrambled eggs, a piece of meat and bread- smelled terribly good. She didn't, though. She stood where she was. Still too wary. Rowan rolled his eyes and walked to her food and started eating it. She gasped, absolutely enraged and incredulous. He was eating her food. Sure, she wasn't planning on eating it but that was just utterly rude. Though she was glad her food wouldn't be wasted, she would have hated that more.

He brought big chunks of food to his mouth but he didn't even eat half of it. He motioned to his body –what? He wanted her to appreciate his sculpted body? She already did- and then to her plate. Oh. Oh. He was trying to ease her mind, trying to show her that the food wasn't poisonous. They were not trying to hurt her. Yet. She hadn't even given them the chance to ease her mind the night before because she had been too desperate.

That was enough for her. If she wanted to be able to stay on alert, she needed energy and she couldn't have that if she didn't eat. She nodded and walked to the table. She sat down, as gracefully as she could, her chin high. She still didn't trust them and she was still a bit mad for the way Gavriel had treated her. But she forgot all about grace as soon as she took the first bite.

God damn it. It was even better than last night. She would have eaten almost everything in less than five minutes if Gavriel hadn't motioned for her to slow down. She blushed as she remembered how she had thrown up all over him and Rowan. Wary or not, she was embarrassed. She nodded to him and kept eating, slower this time. Once she was done, Gavriel took her plate and left the tent, leaving her alone with Lorcan and Rowan. Lorcan hadn't even opened his mouth since she had woken up. Though she shouldn't be too surprised, the few times she had heard him speaking, it always sounded more like a snarl than real words.

A few minutes passed. Then more minutes, in silence. God, she hated this. She wished she could at least communicate with them. It would be so much easier if she did. And, now, she wanted to pee. She tried to think of the best way to let them know of her necessities without muttering a word but they were all so humiliating. It was such a natural reaction from her body, and yet she was blushing just by thinking about it. She thought about different ways of reenacting her necessity but each scenario was worse and more confusing than the other. She sighed. Her bladder came first.

She stood up and was surprised when none of them tensed by her sudden action. Maybe they could also smell those kinds of things? If her memory didn't betray her, fae had an amazing sense of smell. It was so good that they could smell someone's arousal, fear, personal scent...and periods. Whatever. Isabella made a question mark in the air. Better to let them know about her request first. She had decided she would communicate as if they were all playing a "say it with mimic" game. Gavriel nodded at her. Good. She took a steadying breath, trying to gather some bravery, and started acting as if she had to go to the bathroom. Very exaggeratedly. Her high tights glued together while she was jumping from one foot to the other. When they didn't react, she tried to cup the place where her bladder was the best she could. Shout out to her first year biology teacher.

Lorcan turned around, his back facing her. She noticed that his shoulders were slightly shaking. He was laughing at her. Again! Rowan remained serious but she could have sworn that the corner of his lips were slightly upward. Gavriel –always the gentleman- had the decency of looking worried for her. He motioned for her to follow him and she did. He took her to a secluded and hidden spot in the forest and left her alone to attend to her necessities. She had secretly hoped for a bathroom, but the forest would have to do it. She unzipped her trousers as fast as she could manage and relieved her bladder. She sighed in relief after she was done, until she realized that Gavriel had not given her any kind of paper or napkin for her to clean herself afterwards.

She groaned in protest. After so many years of never being completely cleaned, she had hoped her current washed state would last longer. She considered the option of screaming at Gavriel for a napkin but he couldn't understand her so he probably would confuse her scream for a piece of paper to clean herself for a scream for help. She could picture a running Gavriel coming for her only to find her crouched next to a tree, her pants down. Yeah, that was not an option. Never happening, she thought. She also considered asking for a napkin after putting her pants on but that would be too late.

Isabella sighed in resignation. She shook her lower body the best she could and put her trousers back on. You've been through worse, Isabella. Get it together, she scolded herself. She looked around to see if there was a small lake close to her so that she could at least wash her hands but found nothing. It's not like she had actually touched anything but she couldn't shake the feeling of being dirty out of herself. Another sigh escaped her lips. Were all fae so dirty or had Gavriel not thought about her concerns because he was a male? Mhm, so all men were really the same. What a disappointment.

She went to look for Gavriel and found him many meters away from the place where he had taken her. She thanked him after he took a quizzical look at her and they went back to the tent. Once they were back she found that Lorcan had also left and only Rowan's presence remained. He threw her a quizzical look too and seemed satisfied with what he found after mere seconds because he turned his gaze to the papers on the table. She decided to seat on one of the chairs. Standing would be a better option if they decided to attack her and she had to run away but she was also tired so the chair won. She was always tired. Had been for a long time. Not even a restful night could take away the exhaustion of years with no real rest or calm.

She tried to steal a look at the papers that Rowan was reading but she couldn't. He was too far away. Maybe he was taking precautions, scared of her puking on him again. She repressed a groan at the memory. They stood there in silence. For hours. They brought her food to eat for lunch. And also for dinner, she congratulated herself after not throwing anything up. They gave her night clothes for her to change into and left her alone. The guards outside her tent still remained in their place.

The next day was the same. Awkward Silence. Food. More awkward silence. Sleep (thank god). The following day didn't change. Or the one that came after that. By the fifth day. Isabella thought she could die of boredom. They did not let her go outside her tent if it wasn't for her necessities or cleaning in the river. She was done. She asked Gavriel, -who she had found was the most willing to help her or give her what she asked for out of the four males-, for some paper and ink and started drawing. She got bored of drawing five minutes after starting. She didn't know how to draw. The two draws she had done were of people as sticks. Very fancy.

She decided to write, instead. She tried to write everything she remembered from the books. Every small detail. And even though she had reread the books, even her memory couldn't remember everything that had happened. But she kept writing anyway. Both Lorcan and Rowan looked suspicious whenever she wrote but she ignored them. Fenrys was usually away so she didn't see him that much. And Gavriel kept to his work, he was kind though.

By the seventh day, she had already written everything that her memory could recall which left her with nothing to do so she started drawing sticks-aka-people again. She remembered her thoughts about Lorcan with no neck and decided to try to draw it. It was just a lot of circles of different sizes aligned as a body with a small head. She drew Lorcan's long hair and his fangs. She laughed out loud at her drawing. It looked as if a five-year-old had done it but it was funny. Her laugh caught the attention of her muse, who eyed her suspiciously in return. She looked back at him and oh, boy, that was a mistake. She laughed harder. He frowned at her, a mix between confusion and his always present wariness.

Their weird interaction caught the attention of Rowan, who was standing close to the tent's door. Next to him was Fenrys, he was the only one who seemed curious. Rowan threw Gavriel a quizzical look but the male just shrugged in response. Isabella was still laughing when she grabbed the paper and showed it to everyone while pointing at Lorcan. He snarled at her. Fenrys howled a laugh and Gavriel turned around so that Lorcan wouldn't see him laughing at him. Even Rowan seemed entertained by her draw.

Lorcan, a 500-year-old male, left the tent with long strides. As if he was a little girl throwing a tantrum. She laughed harder. But all memories of fun left her the following night. When the five of them were in the tent and a soldier's shout caught everyone's attention. Rowan shouted an order in response.

Minutes later, a beautiful fae female entered the tent and eyed her arrogantly. Isabella was more than surprised to see Remelle there. One of Rowan's past lovers and Maeve's follower.