Razmyr pulled a lit cigarette from his mouth and tossed it across the yard's lustrous grass before putting it out with the bottom of his shoe. He normally would've taken his entire crew but this time there wasn't any need.

Princess Ray'ven, a woman who couldn't properly wield a weapon if her life depended on it because of her clumsy ways, and Strelitzia, well, he heard all she could wield was her tongue—a tongue he'd cut from her mouth if she so as dared to spit words of fire within his direction.

He nodded his head towards James, and James tipped his hat then barged straight through the back door. As for Razmyr, he scaled the side of the mansion until he could see both the women from the window.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth when he noticed the darker haired one holding a dagger glinting within the crimson moonlight. Kicking the shutters open, he slipped inside, droplets of rain flying onto the carpeted floors.

"And what exactly are you going to do with that? File your nails princess?" He chuckled darkly while running the back of his hand over the stubbles of facial hair around his mouth. He'd been on the sea for a while, able to wash but shaving had been out of the question. Perhaps he could do that after he captured both of the headaches before him.

Ray'ven let out terrified yelp as a voice sounded behind them, spinning and instinctively pulling Strel behind her. The man before her was ruggedly handsome with dangerous blue eyes that held a glint that meant pain if they made the wrong move and sent a cold chill down her spine leaving her terrified.

"S-stay back!" She ordered him, raising her dagger with a shaky hand, her voice trembling. "Or I'll, I'll-" Her words caught in her throat as he took a step towards her.

Strelitzia grabbed at a fold on the back of Ray'ven's dress, tugging her backward. Her voice was a hushed whisper. "We need to go and get help. You brought guards, they'll come if you call them."

Something sinister stirred within the pirate's eyes at their idle threats. He stepped forward, only leaving her room for moving backward until the wall met her back and the dagger pierced an inch into his chest.

The man took her wrist and sunk the small blade completely inside, not flinching or yelping as a normal person would. "Or, or you'll do what?" He rose a brow, the brim of his hat casting a drop-down shadow over his eyes and nose.

 Ray'ven pushed Strel a little closer towards the door, eyes meeting hers and silently telling her to run. Strelitzia hesitated, unsure before unlocking the door and sprinting out to get help.

Her mouth went dry with fear; the tight hold he had on her wrist was painful and she could only watch the trail of blood come from the wound that the man had inflicted himself.

She gulped, any threat she would have said dying on her tongue at the dangerous look in his eyes. It was so similar to the one that her father got when he was looking for a challenge in his opponents.

"You won't get away with this." Ray'ven barely managed to say without her voice cracking. She tugged at her wrist still held within his grasp, but her efforts were futile. His hold was as strong as steel. "My father will-"

Razmyr chuckled darkly under his breath when their gazes met. Her fear was more evident than the supposed justice she spat out cracked and broken like the window behind him.

His fingers coiled around the handle of the dagger slowly, eyes unwavering as he yanked it from his chest and placed the tip beneath her chin, forcing her head to tilt upwards. "I think I already have considering James is murdering the other girl's parents as we speak. And your father will what?"

He yanked her forth by the waist and whirled her from the door and against the wall. Portraits fell from their placements, some hanging slanted.

"He will be next. But in case you do escape. You can tell him I also did this," Razmyr's head dipped down and his lips crashed against hers, forceful, the taste of soot and ash, of hatred and death.

Ray'ven struggled against his tight hold and his harsh kiss. And then, just as quick as their mouths met, he recoiled from her. 

The blade remained against her throat. "Keep walking. Take me to the other girl's father's chambers."

Ray'ven instinctively raised her free hand and slapped him across the face, her own burning a bright shade of red in anger and embarrassment.

'He stole my first kiss!' She thought incredulously.

His head was jarred to the side, then he turned it to glare down at her. The smirk vanished as a smile—clenched—graced his features.

She may have thought he'd be kind, but the woman was wrong. He drew his hand back and slapped her across the face twice with the back of his hand. "Returning the favor, rich tramp. Now walk."

He gripped her hair by the nape of her neck and slung her forward until she crumbled against the floor. "Get the hell up and lead the way. Slap me again and next time I might return it so hard your neck snaps. Now go."

Ray'ven stood to her feet trembling. Her face hurt from where he had struck her and there was a throb from the place he'd grabbed her hair.

She swallowed harshly and did as he said, for what choice did she have? Once more he grabbed her again, pressing the blade to her throat hard enough to draw blood.

She led him out into the corridor, but the sound of Strelitzia's cry for help made her pause.

"Strel!" Ray'ven attempted to run in that direction only for the man holding her to tighten his grip and dig the blade deeper.

"Let me go! Strel!" What was happening to her? Horrible images of her cousin hurt or worse by one of those savage pirates ran through her mind and she struggled even more ignoring the pain of the blade digging into her flesh. She had to get to her. She had to get to Strel. "Strel!"

Razmyr rolled his eyes towards the woman's screaming despite the fact he held a blade against her neck.

His tightened grip loosened momentarily, those cerulean eyes narrowing as he pressed the side of the dagger into her collarbone.

She would shut her mouth if she valued her life. The pirate lifted his opposite hand and clamped down on her mouth so hard he could've busted her lips.

"Shut the fuck up before I carve your lungs from your chest with this weapon. Or are you screaming because you just want my lips back on that loud mouth of yours? Hmm?" He let go and backhanded her into the room.

Ray'ven tasted blood from where his hand clamped down on her mouth. She had been tempted to bite down on the appendage but doubted it would have done her much good considering not too long before the man had willingly pierced himself with a blade.

She was sure that her jaw was bruised from the number of times the bastard had hit her.

She stumbled into the room, tripping over her own feet and would have fallen if not for the man's tight hold on her. The room was empty much to her dread. Think Ray'ven, think. What has Father taught you?

Her mind raced frantically, her heart pounding in her chest. She needed to calm down enough to figure out something. There was an obvious reason they had come here. "Who are you? Why are you doing this? Is it sols you want?" Ray'ven asked.

She didn't know who he was? He thought this was a moment to remember; the daughter of Ja'ule, king of D'treroh, didn't know exactly who he was.

Razmyr grinned from cheek to cheek as he stepped across the threshold of the door, dust swirling around his feet the moment he halted inches away from her frightened physique. "Oh, you don't know?" Raspy laughter rumbled from deep down within his chest. "I'm Razmyr, captain of the Scarlet Reaper."

At that moment, his gaze lowered toward the corner of her mouth, blood glistening beneath the glow of candlelight.

Leaning forward, he licked it right off, then pushed her back onto the bed. "Stay here until I kill her mother. Don't climb out the windows or you'll bump straight into my men down below. Wouldn't want to return you to your father in pieces. I'd have to say you look far better alive, but you're too bitchy and prissy for me. Spoiled by the life of luxury."

Razmyr turned, then stepped out the door, locking it behind him by burning the knob until it melted against the frame.

  ***

James' smile faltered from his lips the further he walked down the halls decorated with memories of this extravagant home. He didn't want to be the one who informed this girl's parents that they wouldn't retrieve her back unless they had the money, but what other choice was there?

He turned the corner only to be met with a sword against his throat. "You will not kill or take my daughter." Sir Rogan hissed and James' head cocked.

"Listen. I don't want to kill you. I'm just the message giver. Ple-" The sound of metal sang through the air and he knew he had no other choice but to duck and roll across the floor. Fast, he had bounced back with the use of his heel, though this time he stood behind the man. "I don't have to spill blood today."

Sir Rogan laughed as he whipped around. "Wife. Go. Go find her." He muttered before his violent gaze clashed with James muddy brown eyes.

"You think you can come in here and take her and think I wouldn't spill blood for my child? That's where you're wrong vermin." He swung again, hacking candles in half when James jumped back again.

His blade stuck in the wall before he yanked, swinging outwards towards the pirate again. He'd take his head from his neck!

James moved backward again, but this time he tripped, and when the blade came inches away from him, he parried, reflectively moving along the length of the other man's sword until he was slashed deeply within his chest.

Blood spurted past Sir Rogan's lips and he still tried to strike again. "Stop," James said. "It's over. It's done. You're dying."

Sir Rogan growled, stumbling forth and grabbing James by the collar. He drew his fist back. "Not," specs of blood speckled James' face as he spoke. "Yet." The last of his words were in a hiss, the last of his breath when he swung and punched James in the jaw before falling back lifelessly.

"Damn it." James hissed out. "I told you this didn't have to happen! I'm going to need some tea after this." He turned around only to see a chestnut-colored-haired girl standing there.

Strelitzia sank to her knees, pressing her hands over her father's wound. He couldn't be dead. Not like this. Her palms were slick with Rogan's blood as she attempted to stop the bleeding.

"Father! Stay with me. Open your eyes! Please!" But it was too late and too little. He was already gone. Her shoulders shook from the wracking sobs that ensued.

Wide green eyes glanced up at the pirate who just stood there, watching. Strelitzia reached over to make an attempt at retrieving her father's fallen sword.

"Don't," James said, his voice sounding saddened as he stared down at her, the ghost of a smile trying to resurface upon his lips."He wished to protect you and I refused to take your life as well. Once you take a life, there's no going back."

The pirate said before kicking the sword further away from her. Stepping forward, he leaned over and coiled an arm around her waist, pulling her up along with himself until they stood. "I'm truly sorry for your loss." He whispered.

The woman, now that he could see the full view of her face, was beautiful. And to know that something so beautiful could be so broken and full of revenge stunned him.

"Why..? Why would you do this?" She tried to pull away from him but his hold was strong. Strelitzia grabbed his shirt and balled it in her fists. Her shrill voice was a mixture of anger and grief.

"You didn't have to kill him. You broke into our home!" She couldn't see him clearly through the tears but she narrowed her gaze.

He was smiling after he just murdered her father for trying to protect her. Rogan had just died for her. How could she just let this man capture her anyway? Strelitzia pushed away from him, hitting his chest with her trembling fists. "Help! Someone help me!"

Where were the guards that Ray'ven brought? Where was her mother? Anyone.