Her heart sped up as he tried to soothe the tight pressure of her fists by running his thumb over her knuckles. Her head tilted to the side; those large innocent eyes were surprisingly earnest as she watched him.
“It is the law of the world that the strongest prevail,” he informed her.
“And you are the strongest?”
“Of course.”
She tried to pull her hand free, but for a moment he held onto it. He finally relinquished it to her when she turned away from him and focused on the wall, apparently determined to ignore him. He wasn’t about to let that happen.
“You do not agree?” he prodded.
Her head bowed as she fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater again. “You did succeed in driving us out of our homes, forcing us to run and hide. You do feed off us, and you have certain attributes that make you physically superior. So yes, I suppose that makes you stronger. In your minds at least. It doesn’t give you the right to do what you have done to us.”
“Many people returned to their homes when the war was over. Many people picked up the lives they left behind. It is only the resistance who remained hiding and fighting and dying in the woods for the past hundred years.”
She turned back to him; her defiance melted away as indignation blazed forth. “Is that what you believe? They simply picked up exactly where they left off? They returned to something good? That they have been thriving since the war ended? Even within the woods, with no walls, and no real homes, we have more than the ones who returned to their lives.
“They are starving, with little clothing and no money. There were no jobs to return to that didn’t involve being some servant to your kind and being beneath you! There was nothing for most of them, as they were forced into menial roles meant to keep them stupid, and weak, while building your kind and your world to ever higher levels.
“I’ve heard there was a time when there were schools, when we were taught things and educated. They do not exist anymore; they are things of legend, whispered about in awe, as so many other things are. Things we used to have and enjoy, but will never again know if your kind has anything to do with it!
“There is survival of the fittest, and then there is cruelty. I may pay the price for my role in the resistance, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I stood up for what I believe in, I have pride, and no matter what you do to me, you can’t take it away!”
There was genuine wrath in her voice by the time she finished speaking. Her hand trembled in his as she had unknowingly seized his hand with both of hers. The fervor in her voice, the conviction with which she spoke, was almost enough to make him understand her plea, her cause.
But he knew the way of the world, and the way of the world was that only the strong survived. He found it unfortunate her people were relegated to such roles, but it was necessary to ensure the humans remained submissive after the war.
Vampires had spent far too much time hiding and lurking in the shadows, frightened of the mob mentality of humans. It was where the myth came from that vampires couldn’t walk about in the day. It was wrong, they could move about in the day, they had merely preferred to hunt at night when there were fewer people, and those who were around were usually easier prey.
But as the vampire numbers increased, so had their compulsion to be free of the shadows. He helped his father lead the attack, taking them all into battle and securing the world for their own means. The war was time-consuming and brutal, but in the end, they emerged the victors, and Braith had every intention of making sure it stayed that way.
He wasn’t going back to the shadows, and he wasn’t going to let the inferior humans relegate him to such a role again. No matter how much she believed in her words.
Although, most humans had little fight left in them. They were too frightened and beat down to offer much resistance to the vampire rule. Except for a group of humans who hid in the woods, plotting against them, and causing more death and trouble to his kind than Braith would have liked. A group he now knew this girl was a part of.
A kernel of anger curled through him as he studied her. She represented everything he’d fought against, everything he hated so much, yet he held the hands clinging so fervently to him. She seemed to realize her grasp on him as a look of shame crossed her face moments before she released his hand.
“I see,” he said.
She didn’t speak again but turned away, her head bowing. She tried to stifle a yawn, but the dark shadows under her eyes belied her attempt to hide her exhaustion from him.
“I will show you to your room,” he said.
Her head snapped up; her eyes darted rapidly around the room. He sensed her urge to flee, but they both knew there was nowhere for her to go.
“My room?” she croaked.
“Unless you would prefer to spend the night with me.”
Her mouth dropped as her gaze snapped back to his. He could hear the frantic beat of her heart pounding crazily in her chest as she made a small sound of alarm. “No!”
Braith found himself a little insulted by her vehement cry. He was many things, but he wasn’t as hideous as she appeared to believe. He quirked an eyebrow at her and wondered to himself how this frail slip of a girl could cause such a strange reaction within him.
She was nothing special, nor was she the type of woman he preferred. His usual type was curvy, graceful, beautiful, and eager. This girl was challenging, pointy, skinny, and anything but eager as she gazed at him in disgust.
“I didn’t think so,” he murmured.
He rose abruptly and strode across the room to stand in the doorway of the side apartment. He turned back to her. She had risen but remained unmoving by the sofa with her hands folded before her.
The daylight filtering through the windows turned her hair the color of a dark flame. The subtle light was kind to her sharp angles, making her appear prettier. He soaked in the splendor of her. She may not be beautiful, but she was the most magnificent thing he’d seen in years.
Chapter Five
“It’s a shower.”
Aria jumped in surprise, spinning at the sound of the purred words. The prince was leaning casually in the doorway of the bathroom, his arms folded over his broad chest. Though his customary glasses were in place, she could feel it as his eyes rapidly scanned her.
When she stepped back, her heel connected with the cold bottom of the contraption he labeled a shower. It was different than the massive tub in his room as it was a small stall with a distorted glass door making it impossible to see through it.
He strode toward her, his large body powerful and graceful as he moved with the eerie agility inherent to his kind. Aria tilted her head back as she gazed at him in silent awe. She hadn’t seen him since last night, but she realized she hadn’t imagined his size, his air of authority, or his rugged masculine beauty. In fact, it seemed even stronger and more overbearing today than yesterday.
He stopped before her, placing his hand on the wall beside her head as he reached around her with the other. Despite herself, a strange tingling gripped her body. She instinctively leaned closer to him, inhaling his masculine scent of spices, earth, and something more potent.
Something feral and primitive, she realized.
It should have scared her away, but she found herself fighting the strange urge to move closer, to touch him, to allow his scent to cover her completely. Her traitorous fingers twitched with the sudden urge to feel him.
Aria jumped in surprise, moving away from the strange contraption as water suddenly sprayed out of the faucet, wetting the back of her bare legs. She turned, incredulity filling her as she stared at the water shooting from the nozzle above. The prince turned the two handles below it, gradually adjusting the flow and heat of the water.
“Amazing,” she whispered.
“I suppose it is.”
She jolted when she felt his hand within her hair, stroking tenderly over it. She turned toward him, unable to speak as he wrapped it leisurely around his finger. S
he couldn’t move away from him, couldn’t reach up to tug her hair back. She could only stand in surprise as he coiled it halfway around his finger before lifting his gaze to her again.
“You will enjoy it, Arianna.”
For a moment she had no idea if he meant it was him she would enjoy, or if it was the shower. And she wasn’t sure either, as all she craved was to know what his mouth felt like.
Ugh, she was losing her mind; captivity was doing strange things to her. Enemy, she reminded herself fiercely. He is the enemy, but he didn’t feel like her enemy right now.
Then, his finger unraveled from her hair and he took a small step back. “I have sent for someone to assist you again.”
She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “That’s not necessary.”
“You are my guest, and as such, you will be afforded the luxuries of a guest.”
She quirked an eyebrow as she studied him. “I’m a guest now, am I?”
“You are whatever I choose for you to be,” he growled back. “For however long I choose for you to be.”
Despite the heat of the water at her back, Aria felt a chill race down her spine. Every warm feeling she’d been experiencing washed out of her as she was slapped in the face with the cold reality of her life. No matter how good he smelled, she shouldn’t have forgotten that, not even for a minute.
She was an idiot.
The thin gown they placed out for her to sleep in last night was beginning to cling to her body from the steam rapidly filling the room. Her heel connected with the bottom of the shower again as he leaned closer to her.
He was near enough she could see the dark bristles of hair lining his firm jaw. Close enough she could see the sharp tip of his canines as his lips skinned back in a tight-lipped smile. Canines she knew could pierce her skin and drain her in the blink of an eye.
“Being a guest isn’t such a bad thing, Arianna, now is it?” he murmured.
He was playing with her like a cat with a mouse. She knew it, but to her dismay, she was ashamed to realize she couldn’t shake this strange, horrific, attraction toward the vile creature.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the tangled coil of emotions wrapping around her, but she could only stare wordlessly at him as he continued to lean over her, his hand resting centimeters from her head. The thick muscles of his biceps flexed, and though she couldn’t see his eyes, she was sure his gaze was focused on her mouth.
The tentative clearing of a throat brought both of their gazes to Maggie. She stood in the doorway, her large brown eyes questioning as she glanced at the two of them. In her arms, she clutched a couple of towels, a few bottles of something Aria didn’t recognize, and what appeared to be fresh clothes.
She was glad it was Maggie and not Lauren or Julia, but she didn’t like the idea of someone seeing her naked, or helping her dress again.
The prince stared silently at Maggie for a moment before stepping away. He strode forward, pausing briefly at Maggie’s side to gaze upon the things gathered within her arms.
“No heels,” he commanded gruffly. “And no perfume or anything floral scented.”
Maggie started, her gaze darted to the things within her arms before returning to the prince. Her forehead furrowed, her dark eyebrows drew together as she stared quizzically at him. Aria didn’t understand the woman’s strange reaction to the prince’s words.
Perhaps Aria was the only one who didn’t wear the awful monstrosities that passed as shoes around here. But even as she thought it, she knew she was wrong. Maggie was wearing simple, comfortable looking shoes, so why did the woman look so confused by his words?
Maggie shook her head as if to clear it, her forehead relaxed. The prince was gone by the time Maggie picked the heels up from the pile and dropped them on the floor. She turned her attention to Aria, who was too tired and confused to offer any protest as she was once again scrubbed, cleaned, and dressed in another article of clothing she never would have considered wearing before.
The silky green dress floated about her ankles as she moved and seemed impractical to her. Her feet remained blessedly bare.
She walked silently behind Maggie as they slipped through the luxurious room she had spent last night in, then the small sitting room before it, and finally back into the main room.
The prince was standing before one of the bay windows, looking down at the gardens. His hands were folded behind his back as he rocked leisurely on his heels. He didn’t look at them but gestured toward the door. Maggie bowed her head, nodded to Aria, and slipped away.
“I had some food brought up for you,” he said.
Aria had already noticed the heaping mounds of food piled on the tray in the middle of the room. Her mouth watered as her stomach rumbled loudly. She’d never seen so many fantastic looking things in her life.
She remained frozen, uncertain of what to do as she gazed at the cheese, fruits, breads, and meats on the tray. It was enough to feed the people within the caves for a day, as they all scarcely ate, and survived on little. Aria couldn’t remember a day when she hadn’t gone to sleep at least a little hungry.
This night might be her first.
“Arianna?”
She turned toward the prince, blinking rapidly as her stomach rumbled so loudly, she was embarrassingly sure he heard it. He stared at her for a moment; his eyebrow quirked over the dark lenses of his glasses.
“You are hungry, Arianna, you must eat.”
She nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to step up to the overflowing tray, not when so many others would go hungry today. Not when her family would go hungry today. It didn’t seem right.
For the first time, she allowed herself to think about her family. It hurt too much to think about them before, and exhaustion had blessedly dragged her rapidly under last night, but now they filled her thoughts.
Her family would be worried sick about her, half-crazed with their loss and their torment over her new situation. Poor William was probably devastated. Her father and Daniel would stoically move onward, burying their misery, which would only eat them alive inside, as it always did. They would immerse themselves in plans, future attacks, and their resentment and hatred for the vampires would fester until it consumed them, as it had destroyed so many others.
Aria shuddered; she wrapped her arms around herself. She stared at the prince, but she couldn’t see him through the waves of homesickness swamping her. And then there was Max. Poor Maxwell, trapped somewhere within this town, with some creature Aria highly doubted was being as kind to him as the prince was to her.
She didn’t like to think about what that monster was doing to strong, caring Max. Now that she’d opened the can of worms, she couldn’t get it to close again. She wasn’t the most experienced person in the world, but she had lived on the far edges of society long enough to know the cruelty committed by vampires and by corrupt people.
Her family tried to shelter her, but there were some things they could never protect her from. Max would be experiencing many of those things over his time with that woman.
The faint touch on her arm caused her to jump. Her hands fisted as she instinctively sought to fight off her offender, but she managed to catch herself before she launched a punch at the prince.
She expected his kindness would vanish if such a thing happened, and though she’d never expected to live long, she didn’t have a death wish. She blinked the prince into focus, struggling not to let him see how lost and alone she felt right now.
“I wasn’t thinking last night, Arianna; I’m not used to having humans around for more than an hour or two. You have to eat; I know you are hungry.”
Her traitorous stomach rumbled again in enthusiastic response to his words. She almost refused the food, but denying something that might aid her, in the end, was foolish. His frown deepened; his concern became apparent.
“Come,” he said.
He led her to one of the sofas and settled her on it before turning to the tra
y. Aria watched as he filled a plate with food. She was confident he’d never done this for anyone; she couldn’t understand why he was doing it for her, or why he rescued her from the ugly little vampire of yesterday.
She wondered if he’d ever reveal his reason for claiming her, she doubted it. He turned back to her and handed her the overflowing plate. There were foods on it she didn’t even recognize.
She stared at it before he handed her a napkin and a fork. She twisted the fork in her hand as she inspected it. She’d seen them before, had used them a few times, but she wasn’t well versed in the art of using a utensil. She much preferred her fingers, but she suspected the use of fingers wouldn’t be overly accepted here.
He placed a smaller tray over her lap, and then took the plate back to set the plate on the tray. Aria’s hands trembled as she moved the fork awkwardly in her grasp. She stabbed at some of the fruit before successfully spearing it with the strange utensil.
She itched to dive into the heaping plate of goodies but forced herself to at least try to appear civilized in this grand place. The prince placed a glass of some orange colored liquid beside her.
“What is that?” Aria inquired, heat coloring her face as she realized she’d forgotten to swallow her food before she spoke.
He didn’t acknowledge her breach in manners as he sat on the sofa beside her. “Orange juice, I’ve heard it’s rather tasty. Humans seem to like it anyway. We grow the trees within the gardens and greenhouses.”
Aria lifted the glass, sniffed suspiciously at it, and then cautiously took a sip. The liquid was cool, sweet, and refreshing. She downed the rest of the glass in one swallow.
“You approve?” he asked.
She smiled tremulously at him as he leaned over to refill her glass. She studied him questioningly; she was unable to understand why he was doing this for her, why he was so kind to a rebel human. She didn’t dare ask him; she didn’t think he would appreciate her mentioning it. Instead, she decided to enjoy her delicious meal.
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