New Allies

[Oriena]

An indolent gaze turned to watch the approach of Yun’s guest, running him top to toe with every inch the sort of carnal possession he deployed on others. She lingered on his disfigurement with the hint of a smile, while beside her Yun perked noticeably at the intrusion. She seemed genuinely welcoming of his unexpected company. Ori had seen them together before, of course, and had little interest in where Yun’s tastes ran; nor did she particularly care for whatever boring ties of business the two would perhaps now wish to discuss. But the perch of her throne was not one she was in much hurry to relinquish.

Ryker tweaked strings like a lazy puppeteer. Ivan had been blind to the manipulation, and Oriena had played for as long as it amused her to be the weapon he used to break the man into something that might more easily be moulded. He thought himself a lion amongst sheep.

Didn’t everyone? 

Truthfully he bored her, but only because of that carefully placed mask: the one of smooth, unblemished skin. She’d witnessed the violent spark of his temper back at the bar with Mikhail, tempered to apathy the moment it surfaced, and that alone differentiated him from every other fucker clawing for power in the Custody’s foul heart. Control mattered to him. But the ugliness of his scars was the truth.

Her smirk cut like shards of glass, the glitter of her attention somewhere between cruelty and mischief as he ascended. It was intended to make him uncomfortable, though she doubted he would pay her presence much attention, let alone consider that the territory into which he strayed was most assuredly hers. An ulterior motive prompted his visit to the Syndicate leader, she assumed, but she did not much care what it was. Yun made small talk, and it was her attentions he courted. Oriena was left to consider her own pleasures. For it had been easy to web her way into Yun’s head, to smooth her way into welcome, and now she wondered what small measures it might take to lift Ryker’s mask.