Hour later. Aria was still laying curled on the cold floor of the cell, cheeks still stained with tears. Her ribs ached from the beating she recieved earlier and her head pounding. She had cried herself to sleep. But the sound of footsteps approaching ,loud laughters and clang of keys open jolted her awake. Three Bloodfang guards stopped infront of her cell. Heavily armed, leather vests, boots covered in dirt. One of them held a dented metal tray of a sloppy, stale bread and half-burnt sausage with no cutlery. “She’s still breathing?” one muttered. “Tough bitch.” "Wake up, princess," another sneered. "Dinner time for Vince’s little pet slut." Aria pushed herself up slowly, wincing, but her eyes were still sharp, red and burning with fury. “Call me that again,” she spat, voice hoarse, “and I’ll rip your tongue out with my teeth.” The guards laughed. “Aww, she's gonna bite.” “You’re not in Vince’s bed anymore, bitch,” another said, shaking the tray. “No one’s coming to save
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