The Captive Series 1-5

by Erica Stevens

  He stepped closer to her, giving her no choice but to retreat if she wanted to avoid him touching her. And she most certainly did not want him touching her. She edged further back when he pushed closer, nearly bending over her as he loomed above her.

  “Stop it!” Aria hated herself for crying out in protest, for letting him see how much he rattled her, but she couldn’t stop the words as her heel came up against the back of the wall and she realized she was trapped.

  His hands slammed into the wall on either side of her head, rattling the pictures. Her heart lurched as, for the first time, she feared this creature. Until now, she hadn’t known what to make of him, or what he planned to do with her.

  She now knew he didn’t take well to being defied, and she was a little concerned he might rip out her heart—something he could do before she could blink.

  “You will allow them to do this, or I will do it for you,” he growled.

  Aria gulped at the terrifying possibility he would do what he threatened. She had no doubt he would drag her into the bathroom, strip her, and dump her into a tub of water. There was no way she would allow something like that to happen.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t respond to him as quickly as he apparently would have liked. He grabbed her arm, practically dragging her from the room. Aria hurried to keep up with him, stumbling behind as he pulled her forward.

  He led her through a side door; she caught a brief glimpse of books, a desk, and leather chairs before she was pulled into yet another room. This one left her bewildered and gaping. There was some strange, overlarge round white thing in the middle of the room. Its golden handles gleamed, and some sort of spigot came from the top it.

  He released her abruptly before striding across the room. He spun the handles, causing water to burst free from the spigot. Aria’s hand flew to her mouth. What kind of brilliant, strange contraption was this?

  The prince turned toward her, confusion marring his brow as he studied her.

  “Oh,” Aria breathed as steam rose from the water, alerting her to the miraculous fact the water was hot.

  She’d seen the bottom of these things in a couple of houses before, but there were no spigots with water coming from them. Most of the bottom parts were broken, or so dirty she would never contemplate stepping foot in it, never mind using it to clean herself.

  She hadn’t known this was their intended use, and it fascinated her. It was rare she had time to boil water to fill the few wooden tubs they hid within the caves. Most of the time, she didn’t bother because of the effort it took, but every once in a while she treated herself to a warm bath in a tub instead of the lakes or streams.

  The prince was studying her; the perplexity on his face more than a little disconcerting. She couldn’t meet his gaze as an unexpected wave of shame washed over her. He was studying her like that because he realized she knew nothing of the world outside of caves, woods, streams, hunting, and death. And he pitied her for it.

  As she looked back at him, she didn’t see pity on his face. Instead, she saw an understanding that left her rattled and unsure. She couldn’t figure out this strange creature, but it seemed as though they were even, because judging by the look on his face, he couldn’t figure her out either.

  “Allow them to do this,” he said gruffly.

  Aria nodded before he left the room.

  Chapter Four

  Aria shifted as she tugged at the collar of the sweater she wore. It was a velvety type material, and she had never felt anything like it. It felt marvelous against her skin, but she couldn’t get used to it. Her clothes were always rough, ragged, and nowhere near as warm as this soft cloth.

  She tugged at the scooped collar again, unnerved and frightened by how much of her skin it exposed. Even in the summer, she wore long sleeves and collars to avoid bug bites, scratches, and other hazards amongst the woods and within the caves.

  The sweater, though strange, wasn’t as bad as the skirt they put her in. It fell to just above her knees in gentle black waves that swayed as she walked. She didn’t like the feel of it or the fact her legs were exposed. Usually, she slept fully clothed in case there was a raid. It was essential she always be quick on her feet and able to flee if it became necessary.

  Wearing this, she wouldn’t be able to move fast, and would almost inevitably be caught as the sweater was a bright red homing beacon to her location. The women had scrubbed her clean, had done the strange task of removing the hair from her legs with a razor, but they couldn’t take away the bruises and scratches marring her skin.

  She looked ridiculous in the skirt, with her battered lower limbs and knobby knees. The garments were uncomfortable but preferable to being nude as they’d taken her clothes away, with the blonde snickering something about burning them.

  The women fluttered around her, brushing her hair as they talked. They hadn’t said a word to her, nor had she spoken to them for the past few hours. They exchanged gossip, spoke of men they liked, and whispered reverently about the prince. From all their excited chatter, Aria learned the blonde fancied herself amongst the prince’s favorites.

  Aria tried not to think about the discomfort and confusion that revelation caused her. She should be relieved the prince had other women to keep his attention; maybe he would just take blood from her and nothing more. That thought was repulsive enough, but until she could escape, she might be able to bear it.

  Aria winced as the blonde, Lauren, nearly tore her hair out at the roots from brushing it far too roughly. Aria glowered at her, but the woman scarcely noticed as she continued her assault on Aria’s hair.

  “When was the last time you brushed this mess?” Lauren muttered.

  Aria clenched her jaw and hands, refusing to answer the vapid woman. The brunette, Maggie, gave Aria a sympathetic glance as she finished applying some strange color to Aria’s nails. She stared at them in confusion, not understanding why anyone would like to do that to their nails; but apparently, it was popular as all three of the girls wore it.

  Julia, the redhead, brought forth a pair of shoes Aria was certain were designed to kill her. Who walked in such a high and pointy shoe anyway? Whose ankles could take those things?

  Aria remained still as they applied their final touches and stepped back to examine her more closely. Aria’s gaze slid away from them, hating the bite marks marring their necks and inner wrists. It was apparent they willingly, and from the way they were talking, eagerly gave their blood away.

  She wondered if it was the prince they gave themselves to as they seemed at ease in his place, or if they gave themselves to any vampire who asked.

  “Why do you think he chose her?” Julia inquired, tilting her head to study Aria more closely.

  “I don’t know; she’s most certainly not anything to look at. The prince must have decided it would be good to have a blood slave available to him whenever he was hungry,” Lauren replied. “Though we’re always available.”

  Julia giggled; her eyes sparkled as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Yes, we are.”

  Aria managed to keep her face impassive, she itched to smack the insipid women, but she forced herself not to react to any of their catty words. Aria felt she was no competition for the voluptuous women, but it was more than apparent Lauren felt threatened by her for some reason.

  Aria wasn’t going to reassure her that she didn’t have to be concerned Aria was competition; she wanted nothing to do with this place or its people.

  “Bony little thing,” Lauren muttered.

  Aria bit back her sharp retort. Julia knelt before her and thrust the tortuous shoes onto Aria’s feet. She winced as her foot was twisted and crammed into the awful, cramped monstrosities.

  When Julia finished, she grasped Aria’s arms and helped her rise. Aria cringed, hating the uncomfortable things now strapped to her feet. She stood, wobbling and uncertain, and trying not to grimace in pain.

  “You will get used to them,” Maggie told her, patting her arm reassuringly.
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br />   Julia and Lauren rolled their eyes but decided to keep their snarky comments to themselves for a change.

  “The prince is waiting,” Lauren said.

  Aria tried to adjust to the new shoes, but she could barely move in them as she crept forward at an annoyingly slow pace. There would be no escaping in these awful contraptions, and she cursed the idiot who invented them.

  Maggie took pity on her and grasped her arm, helping her to walk. Aria didn’t jerk away from the girl, mainly because she required the help, but also because no matter how much she disagreed with Maggie’s choices, she almost tolerated her.

  Led back into the main room, she discovered the prince lying on one of the sofas; his large body took up most of it. His arm was tossed over his eyes, and he had one leg planted firmly on the floor.

  The wolf lay on the floor before him; the animal lifted its head to watch as they entered the room. The prince must have sensed them as he dropped his arm and sat up. He still wore his glasses, but Aria knew the moment his eyes landed on her. Her heart flipped in her chest; a strange sensation trickled through her as he stared silently at her.

  “Leave us,” he commanded.

  The three girls nodded briskly before slipping from the room. Aria stood uncertainly, her hands folded before her and frightened by what was going to happen next.

  “Much better,” he murmured. “Come here.”

  Aria bit her bottom lip. She hated the way he made her feel so frightened and nervous, but at the same time, strangely excited. Apparently being captured had frazzled her mind as she found herself oddly unafraid, and more than a little curious of the man who purchased her.

  “I won’t harm you,” he said.

  She didn’t know if she should believe him or not, but Aria felt she could.

  She attempted to totter forward on the death traps strapped to her feet. A small cry escaped when her ankle twisted out and her legs buckled beneath her. He was beside her instantly, catching her before she hit the ground.

  Aria stared at him in surprise as he lifted her effortlessly. She didn’t understand this strange creature before her.

  Vampires were monsters, they destroyed humans, used and abused them before tossing them away, but this creature was an enigma she couldn’t begin to fathom. One moment he was overbearing, intimidating, and threatening. The next he was almost kind as he held her gingerly in his grasp.

  Was this part of his game? Did he plan to try and gain her trust before tormenting and eventually destroying her? That explanation seemed far more likely than the one where this creature, one of the leaders of the monsters, might be kind.

  “I don’t think those shoes are for you,” he commented dryly.

  Aria eyed him warily as he settled her onto the sofa he had just abandoned. “Most definitely not,” she agreed.

  Startled disbelief filled her when he knelt before her. Her breath froze in her chest as the prince of the vampires leisurely slipped the awful things from her feet. His hands were soft on her; his touch caused an odd thrill to race up her spine. She found herself wanting to trust him, wanting to like him even.

  And she knew that was a very dangerous thing to do.

  Braith stared at the young girl before him. Her eyes were as big as saucers, unblinking, completely bewildered as she gazed at him. His hand brushed the supple skin of her leg. The dark bruises and scratches marking her were vivid against her fair complexion.

  He didn’t know what caused the apparent abuse she’d withstood, but he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He didn’t know what it was about this girl, but she intrigued him in a way no one ever had before.

  She was a pretty enough thing with the layers of dirt scrubbed from her body. She smelled better now that the smoke, blood, and stench of body odor had been removed. Braith detected a faint hint of strawberries clinging to her hair, even though they’d washed her in some flowery scent that didn’t suit her.

  This girl wasn’t one to be wreathed in fragile flowers. He sensed that beneath her outward, docile demeanor there was something far stronger than the way she was trying to appear. Her natural scent, despite the floral clinging to her skin, was a great indicator of that fact.

  Her features were pleasant, delicate even, but not refined. Her parted mouth was full, her teeth straight, and surprisingly white for the lack of hygiene she displayed upon arrival. Her crystalline blue eyes were full of disbelief, trepidation, and uncertainty. They also appeared intrigued as she tilted her head to study him.

  Her hair, scrubbed free of grime, was not a lackluster brown like he initially believed, but a glossy dark auburn that gleamed in the light of the room. The red streaks within it were lustrous. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a shade quite like it.

  Though she was far from ugly, he still didn’t understand what had driven him to claim her. He’d seen women far more beautiful women than her in his extended lifetime. She was too skinny, her collarbone stuck out sharply, and the bones in her hands were visible.

  He preferred his women with more meat on them, but from the look of her, it was apparent her life wasn’t one of abundance and pleasure like the women he was used to.

  From the moment he’d seen her, actually seen her, he was consumed by the need to have her. There was nothing spectacular about the stage setup, or the people on it. In fact, he hadn’t seen a single person on it until she was brought forth.

  He hadn’t planned to stop at the auction. He had no use for blood slaves. There were enough willing people in the world without having to take blood from the unwilling ones, but when she was led across the stage, he’d stopped dead in his tracks.

  She had been unremarkable, filthy, disgusting, and bold. Defiance and pride had radiated from her. They were a beacon calling out to him, snagging his attention as nothing in years had. At first, he barely saw her, but the longer he stared at her, the clearer she became to him.

  He sat back now, tilting his head as he watched her. She studied him with the same intensity with which he studied her, but they considered each other for entirely different reasons.

  She wondered about her fate, what he was going to do with her, and what he sought from her. He studied her because he could actually see her. It was not only utterly mind-boggling to him, but also a little disconcerting.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” Her melodious voice was low, her forehead furrowed as her gaze ran over him.

  Braith tossed the nuisance heels aside before he rose to his feet. Her lips parted, her head tipped back to stare at him. “What is your name?” he inquired.

  She licked her lips nervously; her small hands pulled at the sleeves of the sweater as she fidgeted anxiously. There were small nicks and cuts on her fine-boned fingers; calluses marred the palms of her tanned hands.

  “Arianna.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that your real name?”

  A small smile flitted over the edges of her full mouth, for the first time he saw humor in her eyes. “Yes.”

  He believed her as he settled onto the sofa beside her. Though she tensed, she didn’t move away from him. “I’m Braith.”

  She nodded, her gaze distrustful again as she looked him up and down with shrewd and assessing eyes. “So I’ve heard. Why am I here?”

  “I don’t know yet, Arianna.”

  Trepidation flashed through her eyes; she recoiled before insolence blazed hotly from her.

  “Everything you do to me will be done by force,” she declared.

  Her defiance should annoy him (she’d already defied him more today than anyone ever had in his life), but he found himself somewhat amused by it. If no one else was around, he didn’t mind her show of courage. He wouldn’t tolerate it in front of others again though.

  “You think so?” He was far more interested in seeing her reaction to his words than her actual response.

  She looked surprised but quickly covered it up. “I know so!” she retorted sharply.

  He shrugged indifferently. He didn’t know what
he wanted with her or what he was going to do with her. He may decide tomorrow he didn’t like her here at all; Braith didn’t believe he would, but he was known for his whims of fancy when it came to women. He was fascinated by the reaction he had to her, but there was no way to know how long that fascination would last.

  One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to force himself on her. He had done a lot of things in his long life, many of them not good, but he had never forced himself on an unwilling woman.

  “We shall see,” he stated.

  Her delicate nostrils flared with fury; he could hear her teeth grinding. He didn’t know why he was baiting her, but it was amusing to watch her when she was irritated with him.

  “Where are you from, Arianna?”

  Though she still held the appearance of defiance, he could sense the grief shimmering through her. “Around,” she said.

  “You live in the woods?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you a member of the resistance?”

  She hesitated, her knuckles turned white. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Resistance members are punished for their disobedience by becoming blood slaves, or bled dry. It’s a way to discourage our fighting, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so,” he agreed. “You think that’s wrong?”

  “Don’t you?” she snapped.

  He sat back and leisurely stretched his legs out as he folded his arms behind his head. The bright blue of her eyes blazed with anger and righteousness as she glared at him. It pleased him to smile serenely back at her.

  “If your kind would simply just agree to work with us, then punishment wouldn’t be necessary,” he said.

  “Agree to be your slaves in other ways you mean? Agree to be your servants? Agree to do whatever you wish, whenever you wish it, with no regard for our wants, desires, and beliefs?”

  The fevered tone of her voice and her impassioned words fascinated him. For someone so young, she was very firm in her beliefs. Without thinking, he reached out and seized her hand. The urge should have staggered him, but there was something about the gesture that seemed right, as did the warmth of her hand within his.