A Better World (Record of Ragnarok x Reader)

Chapter 37 - A Journey Through Memory Lane Part. 2.2

She'd never seen Arobynn so... angry – and admittedly, it was scaring her.

He didn't yell, and he didn't curse – he just went very still and very quiet. The only sign of his rage was his silvery eyes, glittering with a deadly calm. She tried not to flinch in her chair as he stood from the giant wooden desk. Sam, seated beside her, sucked in a breath. She couldn't speak; if she started talking, her trembling voice would betray her. She couldn't endure that kind of humiliation.

"Do you know how much money you cost me?" Arobynn asked her softly.

Celeana's palms began sweating. It was worth it, she told herself. Freeing those two hundred slaves was worth it. No matter what was about to happen, she'd never regret it.

"It's not her fault," Sam cut in, and she flashed him a warning glare. "We both thought it was-"

"Don't lie to me, Sam Cortland," Arobynn growled. "The only way you became involved in this was because she decided to do it – and it was either let her die trying, or help her."

Sam opened his mouth to object, but Arobynn silenced him with a sharp whistle through his teeth. His office doors opened. Wesley, Arobynn's bodyguard, peered in. Arobynn kept his eyes on Celeana as he said, "Get Tern, Mullin, and Harding."

That wasn't a good sign. She kept her face neutral, though, as Arobynn continued watching her. Neither she nor Sam dared speak in the long minutes that passed. She tried not to shake.

At last, the three assassins – all men all from muscle and around to the teeth – filed in. "Shut the door," Arobynn said to Harding, the last one to enter. "Then he told the orders, "Hold him."

Instantly, Sam was dragged out of his chair, his arms pinned back by Tern and Mullin. Harding took a step in front of them, his fists flexing. "No," Celeana breathed out as she met Sam's wide-eyed stare. Arobynn wouldn't be that cruel – he wouldn't make her watch as he hurt Sam. He wouldn't-

Something tight and aching built in her throat. But Celana kept her head high, even as Arobynn said quietly to her, "You are going to enjoy this. You will not forget this. And I don't want you to." She whipped her head back to Sam, a plea for Harding not to hurt him on her lips. She was about to beg him out loud when-

When she sensed the blow only a heartbeat before Arobynn struck her.

She toppled out of her chair and didn't have time to raise herself properly before Arobynn grabbed her by the collar and swung again, his fist connecting with her cheek. Light and darkness reeled. Another blow, hard enough that she felt the warmth of her blood on her face before she felt the pain.

Sam began screaming something. But Arobynn hit her again. She tasted blood, yet she didn't fight back. Didn't dare to. Sam struggled against Tern and Mullin. They held him firm. Harding put a warning arm in front of Sam to block his path.

Arobynn hit her – hit her ribs, her jaw, her gut. And her face. Again, and again, and again. Careful blows – blows meant to inflict as much pain as possible without doing permanent damage. And Sam kept roaring, shouting words she couldn't quite hear over her agony.

The last thing she remembered was a pang of guilt at the sight of her blood staining Arobynn's exquisite red carpet. And then darkness, blissful darkness full of relief that she hadn't seen him hurt Sam.

.

.

.

"Let me have a go at him," Michel managed to slither out, despite having his face pushed to the floor by Raiden – he was practically sitting on him. Raiden did not move. Michel sighed. "And why am I being victimized over here when that idiot king keeps talking our ears off about how he's gonna kill Arobynn?"