Refuge In The Shadows

20.

As predators whose patience had no bounds, they calmly waited for their prey to fall into their little trap. The minutes ticked down, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four. Without taking her eyes off an arrogant guard marching up and down his line of men to assert his dominance, Carys reached into her belt and slowly unsheathed her Rhiannon, its steel blade razor thin after an hour of mindless sharpening the night before. He would be the first person she would launch herself at the second Carraway closed the factory door behind him. Her muscles were coiled, ready to spring, ready to sprint across the docks and wipe that sickening smirk from his lips.

As if he knew what she was thinking about given her antsy behaviour, James placed a warm hand on Carys's knee. "Steady," he murmured, his voice fading into the howling wind as soon as she heard it. James followed her line of sight to the man who had stolen a fellow guard's only weapon, his only means of defending himself. He bristled in anger and Carys could feel his deadly intent. "He is mine." Her steady, cold voice dripped with venom, a warning not to come between a killer and her victim. James grinned and pressed a quick kiss on the crown of her head, "Of course, Carys darling," he purred.

Carys was not sure if the impending bloodshed was behind James's boldness or not, but nonetheless, she could not deny that she liked it, his dominating possessiveness, the same possessiveness at the dinner party. She knew very well that now was not the time to finally give him an answer, but she hoped it would be the light he needed to get through this ordeal. Carys looked up and saw James in a similar crouch above her. As he memorised the guard rotations, Carys lifted her head up and pressed a light kiss to his throat. She immediately reverted to her previous position, her cheeks already reddening. Carys never been one to display such open gestures of affection, but perhaps James could compensate for her reserve.

An animalistic growl tore from his throat and he pulled her body flush against his, his arms wrapping around her waist. "Choosing this exact moment to surrender to my charms? Carys Llewelyn, you little tease," he breathed into her ear. Carys's faced burned, absolutely horrified. "I only meant it as strength to come back to me in one piece," she sputtered. He reined in a laugh and kissed her cheek, then her nose, then her forehead, "You do not know how alive you have made me." Suddenly, his head snapped up as the sounds of hooves and carriage wheels made themselves heard through the pattering of rain and whirling of wind.

Their prey had come.

That eyesore of a carriage stop directly in front of the doors and the arrogant prick of a guard threw the stolen knife back to the poor guard before plastering on a beaming smile. He strode over to the carriage and opened the door for Carraway to exit. Carys knew of the damage Cadeyrn and Rhys inflicted on Carraway, but none of them had seen the aftermath...until now. First, his golden cane peeked out from the carriage, then an expensive shoe-clad foot, before the man himself emerged into the downpour. Despite the severe limp and eyepatch, Carraway carried himself with as much haughtiness as prior to the incident, if not more. Carys nearly laughed when she took in his burgundy suit jacket and black embroidery. The man was unknowingly dressed accordingly for the bloodbath.

For a few seconds, he and the guard exchanged words, no doubt going over the security measures for the duration of Carraway's reunion with his nephew. When the conversation was finished, Carraway gave him a wicked smile and slapped him on the shoulder in approval. Carraway's favourite guard looked on triumphantly as his boss made his way to the doors. Surrounding the perimeter of the factory, the Hunters held in their breath as Carraway stepped closer and closer to the building. Carys narrowed her eyes at the prick, nearly burning a hole in his back. You are dead, dead, dead, dead.

Time nearly stopped as Carraway grasped the handle and turned it. Glancing cautiously around the grounds, he paused by the threshold, his one working eye dark with hatred and cruelty. With a huff, Carraway swept inside the factory and slammed the door shut.