The Briars

The tension in the tent was thick, almost suffocating. Bella Donna's calmness in the face of Rox's fury only seemed to amplify the weight of the situation. Rox's knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the table, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as his anger simmered beneath the surface.

"They are children, Rox," Bella Donna repeated, her voice soft but unwavering. "Children who have seen too much. But they are not beyond saving."

Rox narrowed his eyes, still staring out into the storm, his gaze fixed on the three figures standing motionless in the rain. The way they stood-so still, so unnatural-only reinforced his conviction that Bella Donna was making a mistake. They were monsters, not children. The scars, the hollow eyes, the way they moved-each one was a testament to the darkness they had been forged in.

"You don't know what you're asking," Rox muttered, more to himself than to Bella Donna.

Bella Donna stood, her chair scraping against the wooden floor. She walked toward the tent flap, her figure barely discernible in the dim light. Without turning, she spoke again, her voice a soft command.

"We'll be ready."

Rox didn't move as Bella Donna disappeared into the storm. His hand remained on the table, fingers digging into the wood. He had no doubt the coming days would be dark, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Bella Donna, for all her wisdom, had just made the most dangerous gamble of her life.

The rain hammered down relentlessly, and for a moment, Rox felt as though it might drown them all.

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