The Captive Series 1-5

by Erica Stevens

They echoed what he'd said to her the first time he’d taken her blood, when she mistakenly thought she dreamt his words. She couldn't find the words to tell him she would never leave him, and this was far easier than he'd said it would be. His fangs sank into her once more as he continued to let his blood flow into her.

  Her body stiffened as her heart skipped a beat, that hadn't happened the first time. She tried to remain relaxed, tried to keep her body as still as possible so he wouldn't feel her anxiety. She knew he already had though as his hand constricted in her hair and he hesitated. She worried he would retreat, change his mind, and not continue.

  Then, with a low growl, he bit down harder, and she realized there wouldn't be any stopping him, not at this point.

  Aria inhaled sharply; her body went rigid, and her eyes flew open as her fingers constricted on his head. She was acutely aware her heart had stopped beating, and there was no air within her lungs.

  A scream stuck in her chest, she didn't have the breath to release it. She hadn't expected this nothingness, this waiting, this feeling of being trapped within her own body, unable to move, but still fully aware of her surroundings, and thoughts.

  He was above her, his eyes searching and petrified. She was looking back at him, she was seeing him, but her eyes were as frozen as the rest of her. They were locked on him and as immobile as if she were dead.

  It hit her like a ton of bricks; she was dead, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

  She took it back; this wasn't easy. She would have far preferred agony over this frozen uncertainty. He'd said there would be rigor mortis, but was this it? So soon?

  It took hours after a person died for rigor mortis to sink in; she'd seen it. Although, this wasn't an ordinary death. She wasn't dead, not completely. She was confined to a husk that no longer moved and no longer offered her the life support she had once required.

  She felt his fingers on her cheeks; even felt the drop of a tear as it landed on her skin. It left a cold trail on her cheek as it slid toward her neck. Braith was crying. For her, and there was nothing she could do to ease his worry.

  She didn't know how long she remained trapped in a world where all she had were her thoughts, none of which were entirely pleasant. She wanted to cry, wanted to do anything other than just lie here like this. Braith sat with her, his arms around her, his hands on her face, and in her hair. The look on his face and the fright in his eyes was almost as awful as this endless uncertainty.

  Then a warming sensation started in the tips of her toes and gradually spread upward. At first, it wasn't unpleasant, and she welcomed anything over the nothingness encompassing her.

  The tingling reminded her of holding her frozen hands over a fire and heating them too quickly as it pricked at her skin. It became unpleasant, but if she could grit her teeth, she could get through it. Unfortunately, her mouth wasn't unfrozen yet.

  The tingling worked its way through her arms, up to her shoulders, across her neck, and into her chest. She tried to fist her hands against the pain; they wouldn't move. Frustration filled her; she tried to scream, tried to cry, tried to do anything other than lay here like a useless lump.

  A plea began inside of her; the only problem was she didn't know what she was pleading for at the moment… a true death to free her from this relentless pain or eternal life.

  The heat pierced her non-beating heart. She'd never experienced anything like this, never expected to hear the silence of the vital organ once pulsating so fluidly within her. She hadn't realized how much of a constant part of her it had been until the heavy cloak of silence blanketed her following its cessation.

  Tendrils of heat brushed against the organ as gentle and quiet as a butterfly's wings. The heat retreated for a moment before surging into it once more. It slipped inside and began to spread throughout.

  She didn't know what the heat was, but she pictured Braith's blood flowing in to fill the spaces her blood had left behind. Pictured it replenishing her cells and rehydrating them with his life. She tried to keep that image in her mind; it was far more pleasant than the uncertainty threatening to consume her.

  The heat filled her deadened heart again; her fingers flickered as she felt a heaving inside her chest before it seeped out again. Hope swelled within her. She'd moved! It was only a small bit of progress, but at least it was something different, it was something more than this hideous nothing.

  The heat began to increase; her body was on fire as it prickled through her extremities. She lurched, her body jerked as warmth slammed into her heart once more, but it didn't beat again, and she knew it would remain still forever.

  The tingling, prickling sensation in her fingers and toes started to worsen as it spread into her torso. A scream welled inside her, but her mouth wouldn't open to release the agony consuming her from the inside out.

  Braith's fingers brushed her face as he leaned over her. Her skin felt as if it had been scrubbed away to expose her nerve endings. His silky touch was more than she could stand. She couldn't cringe away from the contact though, couldn't pull away, as her body still wasn't hers. It was this fleshy shell that had become her coffin.

  "Aria?"

  Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, her body broke free of its paralysis. Braith leaned over her as she opened her mouth, and the scream she had been unable to release for so long, ripped loose in an unending echo that left her throat ravaged and her body drained as she fell lifelessly back to the bed.

  Braith reached for her, but she moved away from him, unable to bear his touch on her brutalized skin. She curled into the fetal position, but even that was almost too much to bear. Her body shook and shivered, she was hot, she was cold, she was dying, she was living, and she was doing it all too fast. Braith's hand fell back to his side; hopelessness filled his gaze as her teeth chattered.

  Aria yearned to tell him she would be all right, but she wasn't going to lie, and the mere idea of moving was more than she could handle right now. Every muscle in her body screamed, her bones felt as if they were shattering into a million little pieces. Everything inside of her felt as if it were changing, and somehow rearranging.

  What had she done?

  The thought was fleeting. It didn't matter; it was done. There was no turning back, and no matter how badly this hurt, she wouldn't have changed it. She forced herself to open her hand toward him.

  Seeming to sense she couldn't stand much of his touch, he placed two of his fingers lightly into her palm. The small connection helped to ease her slightly. She kept her eyes focused on him as she struggled to survive her death.

  "You look like shit."

  Braith could barely lift his head to look at Jack. He felt beaten and drained in ways he hadn't thought possible. He hated himself and this whole awful mess; he wished he'd never agreed to this.

  She'd told him it was his decision to make. He'd been terrified she would die and petrified of losing her, but there had been another part so entirely enthralled with the prospect of having her by his side forever, that he'd talked himself into believing this would be okay. They could get through this.

  Now, he knew he'd been completely wrong. He'd do anything to take this from her, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even touch her without causing her to moan or scream.

  He'd seen a lot of wretchedness and death in his long life, but he'd never experienced anything like this. Even the one attempt at the change he'd witnessed was nothing compared to this, but then that person hadn't been Aria, and he hadn't cared about what they'd endured or whether they would survive.

  Aria was the strongest person he knew, and she was falling apart before him, swamped within the nightmare he'd created for her. He'd never hated himself more, he didn't have a clue how to make it better, and he would have willingly offered up his own life to go back in time and decide against doing this. What had he been thinking?

  He hadn't, and now she was the one paying for his lack of good judgment. Ashby had once said he wou
ld end up changing her no matter what and wouldn't be able to resist, but he believed he could have refrained from doing so.

  However, he couldn't deny the fact that when she'd agreed to this, the darkest and most primal part of him had thrilled at the prospect and wouldn't have been stopped by anything or anyone.

  It was a piece of himself he didn't like, but over the past few months, he'd come to accept there was no denying it, or the fact that the person who brought it out and kept it under control the most, was Aria.

  "How bad is it, Braith?"

  He tiredly ran a hand through his sweaty, tangled hair. His muscles ached from being tensed at her side all night; he was exhausted from lack of sleep, yet he should be more miserable. His pain was nothing compared to what she was going through.

  "Bad, real bad."

  Xavier stood behind Jack, his head bowed and his hands enfolded in his voluminous cloak.

  Jack placed a jug of blood on the kitchen table. "Did you get any sleep?"

  Braith shook his head. "No."

  "Did she?"

  "She's sleeping now but not well."

  "You should take a break. Why don't you let us watch over her while you take a shower, maybe a nap?"

  "No."

  "Braith…"

  He shook his head as he glanced over his shoulder at the shadowed bedroom. He tried to pick up on some clue she had awakened and needed him. He wasn't doing her any good, but he was going to do everything he could for her, especially since any second might be her last. His hands tensed around the doorframe; he had to fight the urge to rip something to shreds. He wanted to tear himself to shreds.

  "If she dies…" he broke off as he strained to get the words out. "I would have been the one to kill her."

  Jack and Xavier exchanged a glance.

  "You said you could handle this, Braith," Jack said worriedly.

  He shook his head as he fought the urge to scream or destroy everything around him. He'd lost it when she'd left him, but she'd still been alive then. Now he was certain she wouldn't survive whatever was happening to her body. She was strong, his blood was powerful, but so few made it through and she now barely clung to what little fight she had left in her.

  How had he ever believed he could endure the consequences of this?

  Because he had to, he reminded himself. He simply had to.

  There were so many lives hanging in the balance; so much still needed to be done, and he had promised her he would survive. So, he would somehow, but he would never be the same if she died.

  She'd entered his life and turned it upside down. He'd had everything he ever required since birth and been empty until he saw her standing on that stage, proud and defiant, even while facing her death. He'd had it all, but he'd had nothing until then.

  He would survive without her, but he would never live again. Ashby had been right, after all, he realized dully; bloodlinks couldn't live without each other. They simply existed.

  "I can handle this," Braith told him.

  Jack folded his arms over his chest and leaned back. "You must feed."

  "I've fed more than well enough," he muttered.

  He'd more than sated himself on her, and for the first time in months, he didn't feel the clawing thirst for blood in his chest and gut. He'd rather be starving.

  "You have to keep up your strength."

  His gaze slid back to his brother. Jack's eyes were shadowed and dark, his hair tussled and disordered.

  "Believe me, Jack, I've had plenty, and I've never felt stronger."

  It was true, she was at her weakest, shattered and tormented, and he was suffused with the power of her blood.

  Jack didn't seem to comprehend what he was saying, and then his eyes closed and his shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I suppose so. I'll leave this here for you anyway."

  A whimper, so soft he knew Jack and Xavier wouldn't pick up on it, caught his attention. Braith turned as he waited to see if anything more would follow, but she quieted once more.

  "How are things at the palace?" he inquired.

  Jack pulled out a chair and dropped into it. "There are still quarrels, but that's to be expected for a while."

  "Yes," Braith agreed, but he was barely paying attention.

  This time the whimper had been louder. He left his brother and Xavier as he made his way to the bedroom. Even though she was incoherent, he'd left the bathroom lantern lit and the door cracked in case she did wake.

  He went to her, knowing better than to touch her as he moved around the bed and knelt before her. She was curled into a ball with her eyes closed and her lips compressed into a thin line. Her hair was lank and damp with sweat as it fell around her unnaturally pale face. He brushed back a piece of her hair and tucked it behind her ear.

  Her eyes flew open, for a moment he was frozen as he gazed at her. His body no longer felt like his own as her usually bright blue eyes shone a vibrant shade of red.

  "Aria," he breathed.

  When she gazed unseeingly at him, he had a feeling she didn't even know he was there. She turned her face into his wrist and her mouth pressed against it. She moved with startling speed as she opened her mouth and bit down.

  Braith jerked in surprise as her fangs sank into his vein. He almost instinctively pulled back, but then her deep pulls sparked something primal and possessive inside of him. This had never happened to him before, he had shared his blood with her, but he'd never actually had another vampire feeding on him. His heart swelled; pleasure and love swamped him, but they were swiftly doused.

  Her torment engulfed him as her mind flowed forward to blend with his. She was new, she had no idea what she was doing to him, but he was ensnared within the agony consuming her, and he allowed himself to be drawn into it. He couldn't stand the thought of her facing this alone, bearing it all herself.

  He pushed her hair back and nuzzled her temple as tears burned his eyes. "Aria," he breathed in her ear.

  Movement caught his attention. Jack hovered in the doorway, his eyes troubled and apprehensive. A surge of protection washed over Braith; a low growl escaped him as he waved Jack back.

  This was their moment alone, and for all he knew, it might very well be one of his last with her. He wasn't going to share it with anyone, especially not his brother. Jack slipped into the shadows, disappearing from view as Aria abruptly released her hold on him.

  A violent scream erupted from her as she fell upon the bed. Braith lurched upward; he lunged for her shoulders but pulled himself back. He ached to touch her, but he didn't dare when he knew it would only hurt her more.

  Jack reappeared in the doorway with his mouth ajar and his eyes wide. Xavier nervously hovered behind him.

  "Get out!" Braith roared at them.

  Jack took a step forward before taking a small one back.

  "It is almost done; one way or another, it will be over shortly," Xavier assured him as he pulled Jack away.

  Braith stalked over and slammed the door shut; it did nothing to ease the knot of tension and terror that constricted his chest. He was shaking as Aria moaned and tears spilled down her face.

  He curled onto the bed beside her; his two fingers rested lightly on the palm of her extended hand. Her eyes, now their beautiful sparkling blue again, met his. Love shimmered in them before death rose up to drag her back into its overwhelming depths once more.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Aria woke sluggishly, her eyes barely drifted open before slipping shut again. She ached everywhere; muscles she didn't even know she had were cramping. Knots twisted through her body as she lay entirely still, fearful of moving.

  Even her eyelashes hurt and felt far too heavy, but it wasn't the same as the pain she'd been going through for the past few days, weeks, hours…? She didn't know anymore; she'd lost all track of time.

  "Aria." The word breathed, so hopefully, held so much love that her deadened heart broke. It was different now, completely still, but it was his and always would be. "Aria."

  "I'm
alive," she whispered.

  His two fingers on her palm twitched a little. Her eyelids fluttered open again to find him lying across from her. He was magnificent, beautiful, and heartbreakingly lost as his gaze searched her face. The world was brighter; he was brighter. The scars around his eyes were more clearly visible; everything was clearer.

  For the first time, she noticed that flecks of sapphire and azure filled the beautiful blue band encircling his irises.

  "Aria?"

  Those two fingers were featherlike against her cheek, just a whisper caress that made her crave more. He was hesitant to touch her though, and she didn't blame him for everything.

  The faintest touch was too much before. It had grated on her nerve endings to the point it felt like hot coals were pressing against her skin. She'd been wearing a nightgown, but at one point she knew she ripped it off, unable to take the thin material against her skin anymore. She still felt raw, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it had been.

  "I think I'm okay; I think I made it," she said.

  He reverently searched her face; he seemed almost afraid to believe what she said was true. He looked nearly as broken and beaten as she felt. Lines she'd never noticed before etched his face; there were dark shadows under his eyes, and his hair stuck to his forehead.

  They both smelled, she realized dimly, and almost laughed out loud at the realization. She'd been hideously smelly when he'd first claimed her as his blood slave, and she was as bad now that he'd claimed her again. This time, forever.

  "How do you feel?" he inquired.

  "Like I died," she answered honestly.

  His fingers skimmed over her cheeks as he traced a line to her lips. Shock flickered through her as she felt a tingling, prickling sensation in response to his tender prodding at her canines. Amazement filled her when they lengthened and sharpened against his finger. Her gaze flickered to his wrist and the two red marks marring the inside of it.

  She traced the bite mark as she frowned. "Did I do this?"

  "You did."

  She didn't know what to make of that, part of her wanted to cry, and the other part was strangely titillated. She didn't recall doing it, but she had a dim memory of something sweet and delicious filling her. She vaguely remembered something breaking through the anguish for a brief moment, and now she understood why.