“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
She bit her bottom lip as she struggled to keep the fierce heat from her face.
“You should have told me,” he said. “I would have gone slower; I would have—”
“Stop,” she whispered, too embarrassed to hear any more.
He bent his head to press his forehead against hers. His lips were swollen from their kisses as they hovered over hers; seeming to breathe her in even though he didn’t require air. His fingers played with her hair.
“Okay,” he said, pressing a quick peck to her nose.
Rolling off her, he pulled her against his side. Aria was enthralled by the easiness with which he embraced her, and the fact he’d taken her abrupt stop so calmly. His fingers were as soft as down against her wounded ribs; the light pressure felt good.
“I don’t understand any of this,” she whispered.
He brushed the hair back from her face and tilted her chin up to him. “Neither do I, but you must keep this to yourself, Arianna. No one else can know about my eyesight.”
“Not even your family?”
“They see my blindness as a weakness, and many would like to keep me weak. If they realize I have my vision back, and that it’s because of you, they’ll kill you to keep me weak. They may not know why I can only see around you, and they won’t care. You can’t let anyone know.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
He smiled at her as he pressed tender kisses across her cheeks. She was amazed by him, overjoyed by the tenderness he showed her, staggered he so readily accepted being denied something he craved. He was a vampire, and yet she knew now that though he could be volatile, he wasn’t a monster. He never would be, not to her anyway. She knew it with every fiber of her being.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked.
His eyes twinkled brightly as a small dimple briefly flashed in his right cheek. “Whatever you would like me to do.”
Aria couldn’t help but smile back at him as she traced the ridge of his jaw.
“I know you covet your freedom, Arianna, and I understand that, but I can’t give it to you. I will keep you protected for as long as I can, but although I am a prince, there are still those with more power than me. It may take a little while, but I will work through this, somehow. I won’t let them kill you.”
Aria nodded, warmed by his words, but not at all comforted by them. There would be little either of them could do if it were decided she was a threat that must be eliminated.
“You look exhausted,” he said.
“I am,” she admitted.
“Sleep, we can talk later.”
She didn’t want to sleep; she enjoyed lying there and feeling him against her. She wanted to experience the awe of her strange and tenuous situation. Although she fought against it, sleep was swift and deep when it finally claimed her.
Chapter Twelve
Braith watched the light play off Arianna’s vibrant hair. Her head was bent; her legs drawn up beneath her as she sat curled within the window seat. She had moved on from Ivanhoe and now held, Of Mice and Men, before her.
Her instincts were well honed; she had managed to slap him after all, but she hadn’t noticed his arrival. He was able to observe her enthrallment of the novel.
She may not be the most elegant or refined woman, but the longer he stared at her, the more he realized that to him, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and always would be. Braith felt a strange surge of emotion as he watched her; it was an emotion he’d never experienced before, and one he couldn’t figure out right now.
She finally realized he was there as she lifted her head and blinked at him in surprise. The small smile spreading across her face lit her delicate features and sparkled in her sapphire eyes.
She swung her feet down and placed the book beside her as she rose. Her wrist and fingers were still bandaged; the white cotton a stark contrast against the golden hue of her skin.
She was mouthwatering, alluring without meaning to be, beautiful without even trying, and she was his. The possessive feeling was so overwhelming it almost consumed him. At that moment, he knew it was true, he knew she was his, and he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.
“Hello,” she said.
Her gaze darted shyly away as her cheeks flooded with color. He’d left her sleeping this morning, unwilling to wake her after the events of yesterday. Now her uncertainty raced to the forefront as she fiddled with the bandages and shifted nervously.
“Arianna,” he greeted, smiling as he placed his cane next to the door. It was astonishing to see once again, but the best thing was seeing her. Keegan padded into the room and settled by her feet. Braith hadn’t missed the fact that even the wolf seemed infatuated with her. “Did you eat?”
She nodded; her smile was tremulous as she looked at the tray of food. He could almost see the wheels spinning within her mind, as more than thoughts of food crossed it. Her expression cleared as she met his gaze again.
He could sense the questions lingering beneath her calm exterior, but she didn’t ask him about where he was eating as he suspected she wanted to ask him. It surprised him when she held her tongue; it was a first since he’d met her.
“Arianna?”
She smiled at him, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “This book is really good.”
He glanced at the novel resting on the seat before pulling his coat off and rolling his tense shoulders. He tossed his coat over the rack by the door. He could guess at what troubled her, but if she didn’t choose to speak about it, then he wasn’t going to force her to.
Where he was getting his blood supply from wasn’t something he cared to discuss anyway. He wasn’t going to make her do anything she wasn’t willing to do, but he still had to feed, even if he found the women he took blood from undesirable now, and it was really her blood he craved. He had to sate his thirst elsewhere. Otherwise, he might injure her without meaning to.
“It is one of my favorites stories,” he said.
She watched him as he walked toward her. He was itching to touch her again, to feel her once more. Her head tilted back as she stared at him and her breath came more rapidly. He could hear the increased beat of her heart; smell her increased passion. He smiled at her, pleased to know he affected her as much as she affected him.
He caressed her face, his hand twining into her thick hair. She was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen. Bending over her, he pressed a soft kiss to her full lips. His arm encircled her waist, and he lifted her against him, holding her tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
It amazed him how incredible she felt and how right all of this was. Like the missing piece of a puzzle, she blended seamlessly against him, melding to him in all the right places.
How on earth had it come to this? That he, of all vampires, had managed to find himself in this situation, ensnared by the allure of a human. A rebel human. It was unthinkable, and at the moment he didn’t care as he lost himself to the feel of her mouth and body against his.
He was so lost to her that he didn’t hear the knock on the door until it was too late. Keegan’s low growl alerted him to someone’s presence. Braith froze; his hands stilled on Arianna as he pulled slightly away from her.
Dazed passion still darkened her eyes as a blush colored her face. Though Braith couldn’t see his brother, he knew it was Caleb who entered. He could feel the force of Caleb’s gaze boring into his back.
“Don’t let me interrupt you, brother,” Caleb purred as he closed the door behind him. “You know I don’t mind.”
Apprehension shot through Arianna’s eyes. Her appalled gaze darted toward Caleb, but Braith held her still as he kept her sheltered from Caleb’s scrutiny. A scrutiny he knew would be cruel, and far more leering than Braith wanted her exposed to.
He held her for a moment more before sliding her gradually back to the ground. How had he missed Caleb’s approach?
He
usually sensed his brother the moment he hit the hallway. The wave of cruelty Caleb emanated was impossible to miss.
“Go to my room,” Braith instructed Arianna.
“By all means, continue,” Caleb drawled. “I’ll wait. I’d even enjoy watching.”
Horror bloomed in Arianna’s gaze; she tried again to look at Caleb, but Braith held the back of her head.
“Arianna,” he growled.
Her attention came back to him; her lips, still swollen from his kiss, trembled. He could sense her revulsion. He wished he could shelter her from his brother, but it was too late for that. Caleb was amongst them now, and he was one of the nastiest sons of a bitches Braith had ever known. He didn’t like Caleb anywhere near Arianna.
“Go,” Braith commanded.
She hesitated before nodding. He released her and stepped back. Arianna squared her shoulders and locked her jaw. She kept her chin raised as she strode across the room, not looking at Caleb as she moved.
“Wait!” Caleb commanded.
Braith didn’t want anyone ordering her around, least of all his little brother, but he couldn’t do much without possibly exposing his growing feelings for her. Arianna stopped; her head turned toward Caleb, and she kept her shoulders back. Amusement flitted over Caleb’s face, but Braith saw the depravity in his brother’s gaze as it raked over Arianna.
“She’s not really your type, Braith, not that you can see that, but she’s not. I, on the other hand, have always liked a redhead. I think you should give me a turn at her.”
Disgust flashed across Arianna’s face; her gaze darted frantically toward Braith. He hated she was being exposed to this, hated his brother for doing it to her, but he couldn’t stop it. If he did, her life would surely be forfeit.
“I don’t share,” Braith stated.
Caleb folded his arms over his chest as his gaze leisurely raked Arianna from head to toe again. “Anymore,” Caleb purred. “Things were different just a month ago.”
“Go!” Braith snarled at her as he fought the urge to punch his brother in the face.
Amusement flickered over Caleb’s handsome features, but he didn’t try to stop Arianna again as she hurried from the room. Though she hid it well, Braith could sense her confusion and fear over Caleb’s statements.
Braith kept his attention on his brother. He grappled to keep his temper under control and his face impassive. He wasn’t sure he succeeded though as Caleb stared questioningly at him. A gaze he didn’t realize Braith could now see.
“What are you doing here, Caleb?” he inquired when he heard the faint click of the door closing behind Arianna.
His vision darkened without her beside him, but still dimly made out his brother. Caleb shrugged as he moved into the room and settled himself leisurely on one of the sofas. Braith bristled but didn’t show any reaction to his brother’s cavalier attitude.
“Father has decided to hold a banquet tonight,” Caleb said
“Why?”
Caleb draped his arm over the back of the couch as he stretched his long legs before him. “Jericho has returned.”
Braith stiffened; Keegan padded over to brush against his legs as he sensed Braith’s sudden turmoil.
“And do you know what it means if little brother has returned?” Caleb inquired.
“The war will resume,” Braith answered as his gaze darted toward the closed door. He didn’t want Arianna to know about this, not yet anyway.
“Yes,” Caleb agreed. “I wonder what he has learned.”
Braith didn’t respond; there was no use in trying to guess what Jericho learned during his time away. He hadn’t agreed with Jericho being sent out to attempt assimilating with the rebels in the first place.
Jericho was young and reckless. Braith felt it was too risky to send a prince into enemy territory, but Jericho insisted on going and doing something for their cause. Jericho meant to prove he was something more than the youngest son.
Their father was all too happy to send him. He was eager to see what Jericho might learn about the rebel faction, and hadn’t cared if he lost his youngest. He had two other sons after all.
Jericho was the only member of their family Braith had been close to, and he hadn’t wanted to lose him. However, his protests that if Jericho was captured, he could be used as a weapon against them had fallen on deaf ears. His father had made it very clear he wouldn’t rescue Jericho if something went wrong.
Now Jericho was back, and if he’d returned that meant he’d discovered a way to bring down the rebel faction and destroy their enemies. Braith wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear what it was.
Braith stood in his father’s chambers with his hands folded over the head of his cane as he held it before him. It had been years since Braith entered his father’s private living area. He couldn’t see them now, but he knew that over the years his father had acquired more things, and amassed his fortune within these walls. He could feel those things pressing against him.
Keegan rested against his leg as he sat at his side. The wolf hated being around the king as much as Braith did.
“Your brother has returned,” his father stated.
“So I’ve been told,” Braith replied.
Braith didn’t have to see his father to know he was a large and imposing figure. He was also sadistic. His father ruled with an iron fist; no one stepped out of line, and anyone who disobeyed was killed outright or placed in his father’s trophy room.
Death did not come quickly to those offenders; they were tortured or destroyed in the most brutal ways possible to deter others who might try to bring down the king. He ruled by fear, and he had led them to victory in the war. The vampires respected and obeyed him for those reasons alone.
Braith felt he should respect him too, he was his father, and he had succeeded where many failed, but Braith felt nothing for the man except intense loathing.
Beatings were a near daily occurrence while growing up. Being the firstborn, Braith received the blunt force of them, and being the youngest boy Jericho was also heavily focused on. Caleb mainly managed to slip through unscathed. Caleb also had a malicious way about him their father recognized and admired.
By the time Jericho was born, Braith was nearly grown and almost untouchable, and his father eagerly turned his attention to a new target. It was why Braith had always felt closer to Jericho, looked out for his little brother, and hadn’t liked it when he was sent straight into the lion’s den.
It surprised Braith when his father hadn’t destroyed him after he lost his vision; it was only the fact he’d adapted so well to being blind that he was allowed to live.Braith had honed his other senses to the point he could still fight as well as when he’d been able to see his attackers, and he was as ruthless as ever.
He wasn’t like his father and Caleb though; he was not vicious for the pleasure of merely being vicious. He was a murderer when it was essential, and nothing more. He didn’t relish in cruelty and torturing people, especially not children as his father and brother did.
“He has some interesting information for us,” his father stated.
“Does he now?”
“Yes, I have called him and Caleb here.”
“This is not a celebration announcement for the banquet then?”
“The banquet is not a celebration.”
Braith kept his face impassive; he didn’t want his father to see his curiosity was piqued. He turned at the sound of the door opening and listened to the footsteps thudding on the marble floor.
He recognized Caleb’s footsteps leading the way, and behind him were Jericho’s lighter steps. Caleb moved past him, but Jericho stopped before him. His hand clasped Braith’s, as his other hand rested on his arm.
Braith accepted Jericho’s hand, squeezing it affectionately within his. When Jericho left here, his hands were those of a boy. Now his callused hands were firm and strong. His grip was like a steel vise.
“You’ve grown,” Braith said.
Braith c
ould almost feel the cheerful demeanor Jericho radiated. He’d always been the easiest going of them all, the least affected by their world, and it seemed as if he was still the same.
But beneath it all, Braith sensed a tension and maturity in his brother that wasn’t there when he left six years ago. They held hands for a long moment. Braith tried to size up the man before him; he had a feeling there were a lot of things he no longer knew about his little brother and may never know.
“I finally reached maturity,” Jericho said.
Braith chuckled, but there was no humor in it. They’d always joked Jericho would never grow up, that he would be a thousand and still act like a seventeen-year-old. Braith thought it would be true, but he realized how wrong they’d both been.
Whatever happened to Jericho in the last six years, it changed him profoundly. This realization surprisingly saddened Braith. He’d missed his brother’s camaraderie over the past years, and he realized he wouldn’t be getting it back.
“I can tell,” Braith said.
Jericho squeezed his hand again before releasing it.
“Tell your brothers what you told me,” their father commanded.
Jericho took a few steps away from Braith before speaking. “After a year of living in the woods, fighting amongst the rebels, hiding my true nature, and struggling to earn their trust, I finally broke through part of their tight-knit, tight-lipped, group.”
“How?” Caleb asked.
“I saved the life of a child who happened to be a cousin of the man leading the rebel faction. The child’s parents started to trust me, accepted me, but it was still another year before the father took me to meet his cousin. I was blindfolded for this journey, and it was in the middle of the woods, but I met the man who leads the rebels. His name is David, I don’t know his last name, most rebels have forsaken them, but I would recognize him if I saw him again.”
“And you know where he lives?” Caleb inquired eagerly, the bloodlust evident in his voice.
“No one outside of family knows where David lives.”
The Captive Series 1-5 Page 13