Futile attempts

Elara's fingers fumbled as they worked at the lock, the thin piece of metal she had scavenged digging painfully into her palm. Her breath was shallow, her eyes fixed on the door in front of her, its dark wood unyielding to her futile attempts. She had been at it for what felt like hours, but the lock remained stubborn, unbothered by her efforts.

Come on. Come on.

She bit down hard on her lip, a bead of sweat sliding down her temple. Her last escape had been through the window, but Ravenor had ensured that wouldn't happen again. Iron bars now fortified the window, heavy and thick, with no room to pry them loose. She was small in frame but her curvy hips will surely not let her slip through the thin spaces between those bars.

Her only option now was the door or if she could turn into liquid and slip through the cracks.

The lock clicked just a little, just enough to give her hope and her heart leapt. She twisted the metal piece again, the taste of freedom just within her grasp. She could almost imagine the door swinging open, the corridor stretching out in front of her, her feet carrying her far away from this cold, cursed place.

But the next click wasn't the lock.

He cleared his throat.

Her hand froze.

That voice again. Smooth, dark, and far too amused for her liking.

Slowly, she turned, the metal tool still clutched in her hand, as Ravenor stepped into the room. His gaze flickered to the door, to the lock she had been working so hard to open. He raised an eyebrow, eyes gleaming with mockery.

"Working hard to devise an escape again?"

Her mouth went dry, but she forced a smile, leaning back on her heels. "Just testing your security. Very sturdy locks you have I must admit."

Ravenor's lips curled into a smirk as he closed the door behind him, his every movement controlled, deliberate. His eyes moved to the discarded hairpin lying by the door, a makeshift lock pick, now useless. "Very sturdy for these."

Elara straightened, trying to push down the frustration bubbling up inside her. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. "I don't know why you are so adamant on keeping me here. I doubt you are concerned about my safety."

He took a step closer, and she resisted the urge to back away. "I am not."

"Then why-"

"When you came begging at my door for refuge, did I let you in?" He took another step towards her.

"You did but that doesn't-" she took a step back.

"Did I save your life once again when you landed right into the loin's den due to your own impulsiveness?" Another step was taken.

"Yes," Another step was withdrawn.

"So you owe me, don't you?" He closed the distance between them with the last step and Elara was pressed against the wall.

"Owe you what?" she gulped, her mind racing with all sorts of possibilities. Nasty ones.

"A favor." His eyes scanned her face from up close, accidentally noticing the details about it.

How soft brown freckles splattered across her pale skin, almost as if they were drawn on. How her silver eyes make her look almost too innocent for her own good. How she bites her round lips and turns them redder before saying something. How her small, pointy chin quivered slightly. Her red hair was a sharp contrast to her pale skin and they were stuck on her forehead and neck like she ran miles.

He hasn't seen such a striking combination of features before.

Snapping out of the trance almost instantly, his lazy gaze hardened once again.

Although his intentions were far from that type of favor, the moment his eyes had slipped to her lips, she had her assumptions locked in.

"Don't you dare even think about it. If you even thought about touching me, I- I will-" she choked on her spit as panic flooded her senses.

"Touch you?" He immediately took a few steps back, getting caught off guard.

He had expected her mind to formulate anything but this.

"Why would I even wanna touch you?" He continued, pressing on you as if the very thought of it was ridiculous to him.

It sure was.

"What else did you mean then?" her breath of relief came out strained.

"I can see that staying idle has rusted your brain." His guards were back up. "Let's exercise your brain a little before we get to that talk. You see, I want you to make a wise decision after all."

The cool, calculating look in Ravenor's eyes reminded her that no matter how much she hated it, she was at his mercy for now.

"Maybe I just need a better accommodation for that?" she quipped, trying to regain some control over the situation. "I can't stay here caged up like an animal."

Ravenor's smirk deepened, and he leaned in slightly, just enough to make her skin prickle. "I've already given you a lot more freedom than you deserve after the last stunt you pulled. If you need more than that… you'll have to earn it."

Her pulse quickened, but she met his gaze head-on, refusing to break. "Very Generous."

"Generosity only extends so far," he replied, his tone hardening. He glanced at the lock again, amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

Ravenor's fingers brushed lightly against the lock, and with one swift movement, he reset the mechanism, undoing all her work in seconds. "Next time, try harder."

Oh I will.

She felt a spark of anger flare up in her chest, but she smothered it, knowing there was no point in arguing now.

The door closed softly behind him, leaving Elara alone once more. She exhaled sharply, the hairpin slipping from her fingers and clattering to the floor.

She stared at the door, frustration burning in her chest. He had won this round.

But there would be others.

She wasn't about to admit defeat. Not to him.