" THE SIN OF FAMILIARITY "

THE FAMILIARITY OF the Elven King made her body quiver, the flowers of her mind blooming into lethal thorns. The distant hum of crickets broke through the bared window, the melody of the passing night playing through the room. Augustina couldn't condemn her thoughts, her index fingers raising to roam across her temples. Osiris' eyes remained locked in her thoughts, the golden pools of wealth drawing her deeper into an abyss of greater change.

She had seen the tattoos on his skin, the marks lost in her thoughts through years of prevailed agony. The memory was so close, her fingertips burning with the caress of the radiant source of such a worrisome subject. The ink was something written deep into her soul, the Elven species alone brought from the depths of the forest to represent something deeper.

"Augustina," The faintest of voices echoed from the closed door to her emptied room, the voice all to familiar to her awaiting ears. "We have to go." The voice finished as the wooden door to her cage opened, revealing a disheveled Cato. The man's alabaster hair laid distraught against his forehead, a candle of dim light wavering in his right hand, his left pushing a necklace with a key attached over his head. His captivating features were contoured with the flickering candlelight, outlining every perfected sculpture of his features.

Augustina jerked herself upward from the mattress she resided against, her darkened eyebrows pinching together as she pondered over the man's words. "Where? Cato, it's far to late for you to be lurking the halls-" Augustina began, her sentence briskly interrupted by the hand of Cato his head shaking slightly as he lingered before her curvy figure.

"We have always dreamed of this, you have always dreamed of this. Augustina, we are leaving this cage of wealth. You are going to be free, my little dove." Cato whispered softly, his words fanning against the air before his lips with a paint of hope. It was her chance to escape, to leave the horrid life she held in her palms. The thought made her practically sing in glee, her hand raising to take hold of the man's larger wrist peeling his calloused hand from her mouth. Leaning upward she pressed her slender lips against his own, the movement tender, almost on the verge of being a ghostly touch.

Raising his free hand the Bastard of the King held her chin with his thumb and index finger, malevolently bring her face closer to his, deepening the tender kiss into one of a fathomed passion. Taking a step forward he pressed his heated body against her own, holding the candle of the softest light overhead.

Reluctantly breaking away from her sweetened lips, Cato peered into her darkened eyes with a look of obvious devotion. "We can't linger long, the guards will be making their rounds." He began with a gaze of hatred for the loss of her sweetened lips, his heart aching slightly as he peered upon her stormy eyes of grey. She was perfect, every scarred image of her body painted with strokes of individual beauty.

The moment Cato pulled away to look at her was the when a million flower bloomed in her hollowed chest, sprouting delicate petals of granted hope. "Where are we going?" She asked with a look of curiosity, the flowers that resided in her chest dwindling into thorns of black as she focused on the task at hand rather than the warmth of his hands.

"Far away from here, I promise." He whispered, his fingers falling from her chin to take hold of her awaiting hand. Pulling the candle closer to his lanky figure, the man of shattered radiance moved forth into the abyss of the darkened corridor. His lungs filled with air of heated hesitation, for the path that laid before them held a ring of dangerous obstacles.

Ambling down the hall with gathered footsteps the man found himself hiding the woman of death through a maze of halls, his hand squeezing her smaller one with a embrace of needed comfort. Many scenarios ran through his mind, the thought of getting caught hanging high above his head. They would surely kill him for the simple touch he held on her hand, or the stolen key to her chambers that laid against his chest.

She was to be untouched by man, her only embrace being the caress of death and blood. The King rarely touched her, and when he did it was with fear or provided impression. Dorian's lingering fingers were of lust, the contact of skin between himself and Augustina short-lived, but not unnoticed.

The distant rattle of metal echoed down the corridor, the sound alone sending chills down the spine of the two individuals. Blowing the candle out with a gust of warmed air, Cato found himself focusing on the sound rather than the warmed breath of the woman behind him. Augustina's presence warmed, but utterly distracting for the man couldn't help but think of her eyes of grey, and lips of sin.

The corridor ahead lit with a forsaken shadow, the thunderous footsteps of the armored guards pounded in Augustina's ears. Within seconds the woman was pushed into an unknown darkness, her lithe figure falling backward into an unknown abyss. The sound of a shutting door pressing against her mind, leaving her hands to frantically search the darkened floor she sat upon.

"Ah, if it isn't the Bastard of the Castel bunch." One of the guards voice cracked through the door, the candlelight of the group playing against the slit below the door. "What are you doing, Cato?" Another voice injected, the question alone sounding soft with the youth of a boy. The master of the voice was obviously younger and far more caring than the previous voice.

"You know me," Cato began, a smile displayed trough his voice. "Wondering the halls after a night between the thighs of a beautiful woman, I truly couldn't help myself. It's a full moon after all, lads." Cato murmured with a hint of laughter, the sound alone flowing through the crack below the door and into the ears of Augustina.

Augustina couldn't help but wrinkle her nose with the lie that rolled from his lips, her grey eyes constricting into slits of obvious distaste for his sentence. The laughter of the other two men didn't help the situation, for they began to mumble their agreements. "Which girl of yours was it? The red headed, or the foxy little blonde?"

Augustina felt her temper begin to grow, her hands balling into fist against the cold marble below her figure. She couldn't help but grow infuriated with the words that filled her ears, her teeth gritting against one another as she pondered over his absences. How many meetings did he truly hold with his father? Who were the girls? The questions drove Augustina insane, her jealousy caught in a snare of a shattered heart.

"A man of my stature does not kiss and tell, but if you really want to-" He began, only to be stopped by a light thud against the door behind him. Augustina's bare foot being the cause of such a noise, for her patience was growing thin, along with the vessel of her beating heart.

"What was that?" The younger guard asked, his question directed forward either of the men. "A rat more than likely, those things have been known to thump around in that old closet." Cato murmured, his knuckles knocking against the door in a demand for the fiery little Princess that sat in the dark.

"Rats? Have I mentioned we have to make rounds before midnight? The King is a bit shaken after the meeting with the Pointed Ear." The older guard scowled, his fear for the rodent shown through his voice as the sound of metal clanking began to stir through the door. A silence soon followed the clanking, the faint sound of the door opening being the only saving grace for Augustina.

"You son of a whore," Augustina hissed, her hand raising toward the door in an effort to find the outstretched hand of her lover. "Which woman's thighs did you explore between tonight? The redhead or the blonde?" She silently exclaimed, the whisper coming of brutal as she took hold of Cato's chilled hands.

"That was cheap, Augustina. Truly cheap," Cato murmured in reference to her insult, his jaw clenching in the darkness as he pulled the woman from the floor. "Neither." He added on, pulling her back down the corridor, his movements far more drastic than before.

The insult burnt his skin, the open wounds to his soul doused in salt. His mind caught with whispers of those very words, the sentence stinging his twisted heart. He was the son of a whore and a greedy King. He was a disgrace to his family, and his discarded mother. He was a outcast, thrown to a house of wolves.

"We are almost there, Augustina."

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A/N: Thank you for reading! I was trying my best to add more dialogue, as well as add more content to this chapter.

Thank you once more!