“I don’t fill my stomach with apples, little girl. My hunger is quenched in other ways. You would be wise to remember that.” His tone was chilling, icy, full of malice. She’d done well in upsetting his mood, at least for the moment, but at what cost? His answer made her blood run cold.
“Then you... They say you drink... ” Alliana wanted to know the truth, but she couldn’t finish her question. The knowledge the answer held was terrifying. Instead she chose to lapse into silence once more. She knew very little about manipulating men, and Alliana realized she needed to heed the icy fingers of fear crawling up her spine before it was too late.
Mikhal smiled at her audacity and toyed with the hem of one petticoat, then stroked her calf with his finger. Alliana raised her hand to slap it away but stopped herself. In her culture it was unthinkable to touch a woman below the waist. She was horror-stricken. Just the one simple act left her feeling impure, but she also felt completely helpless and afraid. Wanting to strike him, but knowing it would have disastrous consequences, she lowered her hand to her side and balled it into a tight fist, fingernails digging into her palm.
Mikhal raised his eyebrows at both her words and action. She would boldly ask him such a question? He knew he should be angry but he decided to let it go just this once. She was daring, beautiful, and feisty. The wench had actually almost struck him. He loved a woman with spirit, and this one looked as though she had a lot of fight. That was good. The mother of his child had to be strong. Too much insolence would have to be squashed at once of course, but a bit of will was acceptable in a mate as long as she knew her place.
“What is your name girl?”
“Alliana.”
Mikhal laughed out loud. “That isn’t very regal for the golden girl child of Nicolae.”
Alliana dared to glare at him, furious over his teasing, monster or no; she’d not tolerate an attack on her name. “I never said I was of the blood of Nicolae.”
“You are. Tell me of your name.”
“It’s my pet name. My proper English name is Alliandra, but everyone has called me Alliana, since the day of my birth. I like it.” Her chin had risen in proud defiance at her declaration, and Mikhal again felt a hint of admiration for the girl. She was almost daring him to make some sort of derogatory comment. While it was true this one was tiny, she seemed to have the heart of a lion.
“Then Alliana it shall be. Lady Alliana. A bit commonplace, but it will do.” Alliana wanted to sneer at him and say she was so glad his great and powerful Lordship approved, but wisely held her tongue. She sensed the agreeable man before her could disappear in a flash, only to be replaced by something she didn’t care to know.
“I” Mikhal said with haughty grandeur, pausing for effect so the mere human in his arms could be sufficiently awed. “Am Lord Mikhal Arcos of Debrecen. I possess all you see, far and wide. This is my domain, pet. Mine, and I rule it however I see fit. I am not one to trifle with or anger. I suppose that’s why they have dubbed me Mikhal the Merciless,” Mikhal shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. He cared less what the poor masses thought of him. Fear was good for them. It added an extra bit of spice to their blood.
“You would be wise to remember that as well.” His eyes sparkled with self-satisfaction and his chest puffed with pride as he said the words. Alliana again wanted to slap him for his smugness. He then looked down at her to judge her reaction to his proclamation, expecting reverence and admiration, only to find her staring at him with disgust. Mikhal snorted and curled his finger under her chin, stroking ever so slowly, looking at her curiously. He raised his eyebrows, and then drew them together in a scowl of frustration. He was finding Alliana a bit perplexing. No matter, she would break like all the rest.
The wind picked up, making the icy branches creak and groan in the darkness, sounding for all the world like the cries of some lost pitiful soul, adding to the haunting feeling that she’d been plunged into a nightmare. Alliana shivered, both from the eerie sound, and from the cold, her shawl and her headscarf having been stolen by the trees during her mad flight.
“Are you cold my love? We can’t have that.” Mikhal reached up and gently pulled his fur-lined cloak forward, so it engulfed her slim shoulders. Alliana stiffened at his touch, and tried to shrug it off, despising him and all that was his, but he wouldn’t allow it. “Be good, kitten. I must take care of you. You’re to be my bride, the mother of my son, and therefore I must see that you are well kept.”
Alliana bristled at his words, feeling like a possession, an animal to be tended. “Am I to be watered and well fed like your hounds and horses as well?” Her snappish tone irritated him at once, making his previous tolerance and admiration for her spunk disappear in an instant. What did this little slip of a thing think she was doing, being so insolent? He intended to care for her as no human deserved to be cared for. They were but mere cattle, and he was lifting her from that position, yet she didn’t appreciate it.
A low, animalistic growl came from deep in Mikhal’s throat, making Alliana start with fear. “You ungrateful, insolent little, bitch! How dare you turn your nose up at my generosity?”
As she watched him, wide eyed, the plains of his face shifted, bones moving, changing, becoming horrifying. His eyes glowed, deep amber gold, his teeth elongated, turning to fangs, the once handsome man, replaced by a hideous beast.
Alliana struggled, trying to free herself, but she was trapped. She shot forward, intending to leap to the ground; only to feel the cruel crush of his arms, backwards only added the press of his hard lean thigh to the mix. She couldn’t move without making him tighten his hold on her. His body was everywhere, surrounding her with his strength, restraining her and bending her to his will. He caught her face in his hand, forcing her to look upon him.
He snarled at her, tongue darting out to slowly lick his lips, upping her level of terror even higher, and then brought his face within inches of her, his amber eyes tearing away any defenses, piercing her soul with their intensity. “I am your Master, and you are to look at me.”
His words were strangely mesmerizing, hypnotizing. She was mewling with terror because of the sight in front of her but she couldn’t close her eyes. His eyes and voice held her with a powerful force, making Alliana feel as if she had to obey. The sight before her froze the blood in her veins, but she was powerless to move. Her heart pounded as a cold sweat trickled down her spine. She could barely take a breath. Her stomach churned and goose bumps rose up on every inch of her flesh. Her mind was screaming at her to run but she had nowhere to go. Shaking, unable to help herself, Alliana stared at him in shock. It was true. It was all true. She’d been captured by the devil himself.
“Please.”
“Not so uppity now are you, pet?” He stroked her hair lovingly for a moment, then fisted it in his hand and pulled her head back, exposing her neck, knowing the act would push her to the brink of insanity and dash any hope she still carried in her heart.
The pulse point of her neck called to him. He breathed deeply, savoring the scent of her panic, almost tasting her wild need to flee. Her heart was beating in her chest like the wings of a trapped little dove, bursting to be free. Mikhal knew her blood would spurt down his throat in rich, thick, delicious waves. All he had to do was take one little bite.
His mouth trembled, held poised to do as his beast commanded. His nostrils flared, he gripped her hair tighter and closed his eyes. Oh such turmoil, it made him feel alive. The hot coppery richness flowed just beneath her satiny skin and it took all his willpower not to tear her throat out. His cock swelled with sudden need. He wanted her, here and now. Needed to toss her to the ground and crush her body beneath his. Grind her into the dirt, as he tore away her innocence, plunging deep, taking, devouring, and then drinking his fill as she cried and begged. The image was so vivid; he could almost feel the tight sheath of her body giving him pleasure. His blood lust and passion for the girl in his clutches almost drove his demon over the edge, but Mikhal reined him in. The
girl was to be his bride; she wasn’t some common wench to be rutted in the mud.
Mikhal bent his head and licked slowly, making Alliana shiver and mewl with fright. Those teeth, those awful teeth were going to tear out her throat. She jerked backwards, into his body, to avoid his hideous mouth and found a new threat. The unyielding evidence of his desire pressed against her bottom, telling her he didn’t just want her blood. Fighting anew, more panicked than ever, the woman in her fearing defilement, the human in her terrorized by the sight of the thing that held her, she opened her mouth to plead, but only managed to produce a single word.
“No...”
“Yes kitten. I will do as I wish. Not what you wish.”
He grazed his tongue up and down, flicking it gently, teasingly, savoring her very essence, so close. She was so close and her body was so soft. He knew her blood would be sweeter than ambrosia, more powerful than the headiest of wine. The innocent ones always tasted the best, and this one was rumored to be powerful. How he wanted to drink, to claim her, to make her his, body and soul, but it had to wait. Some things were better taken slowly.
“Please no.”
Mikhal pressed fluttering kisses against her throat in time with the pounding of her pulse, making Alliana gasp with fear, and then he chuckled. “Don’t worry; I’ve no intent of draining you pet. As I said, I have other plans. You shall be mated and claimed. Taken in my bed as mine. Mine in flesh, mine in blood. As for your manners, I’ll not tolerate your snappish tongue. I get enough of that from Marishka. Behave.”
Staring into her eyes, Mikhal took one razor sharp fingernail and made a tiny cut on Alliana’s neck. He suckled gently, tasting his bride for the first time, unable to help himself, and then licked the wound closed. The horror of his action did what he intended, and effectively stilled any protest or insolent words from his captive. She lay stiff against him, too frightened to move, mute with fear, the terror seeping from her every pore excited him to no end.
“That’s a good girl. It’s always wise to do as you’re told. I do tend to get testy at times. Take that as a little warning from me to you.” He winked at her then, his face changing back to that of a man, making her stomach clench.
Alliana wanted to rail against God. What had possessed Him to allow such a creature to walk the earth? Her captor had gone from menacing monster, to cavalier rouge in a matter of moments, and the simplicity of his transition sickened her. His disguise was perfect, impossible to detect. How could mankind battle such a beast? It was easier to know thy enemy when you could always see the evil in his eyes. This was treacherous and supremely deceiving.
On the surface he was handsome, terribly handsome. Even in her terror and current predicament she had to admit that. His skin was like smooth, pale, porcelain. Any woman would die for it. His lips were so very sensuous, and his eyes the deepest blue when his beast was at bay. The sculpting of his cheekbones was exquisite. He would almost be called lovely, if not for the virility that exuded from every pore. Alliana pitied all the unknowing maidens who had happily gone with him, titillated by his looks, only to find themselves in the clutches of evil. She knew what lay beneath the surface, but she couldn’t deny the attraction of his face, the pull of his eyes, or the charm of his voice. Part of her wanted to slap him, though she knew that wasn’t wise, the rest of her was shaking in fear, and a very tiny part of her, the woman in her, wanted to trace her fingers over his cheekbones. In the end, she just bit her lip and turned away, unable to stand the sight of him anymore. He was dangerous, so very dangerous, and she’d have to stay vigilant if she intended to survive.
“Ah, I’ve upset you my dear. No matter. Sit up now and do behave. We’re entering the village. There won’t be anyone about, but even so, you’ll be Lady Arcos soon and we must keep up appearances. Smile my love.”
Was he mad? He acted as if she was some willing bride touring her new homeland, greeting the peasants, and yearning to make a good impression. Never mind, she’d do as he asked. The last thing she wanted was for his demon to arise again. Alliana fixed a frozen smile on her face and stared at the village before her with unseeing eyes, sitting tall, trying to put space between herself and Mikhal, but he would have none of it. He curled his arm around her waist and pulled her close, leaning in to smell her hair, and then whisper in her ear.
“Don’t even think of calling for help. No one here would dare lift a finger and you’d only embarrass yourself. Besides, it would make me ever so angry. Do you want to make me angry, kitten?”
“No.”
“Alliana,” His voice had turned sinister once again and Alliana could feel the tension in his body. What had she done? “I prefer ‘No, my Lord.’ A man such as I must be addressed properly.” When she didn’t reply he gripped her waist tightly, showing his displeasure in no uncertain terms.
“Forgive me, my Lord. I shall address you as you wish from now on.”
“See that you do, pet.”
The horse’s hooves struck the hard packed dirt as they entered the village. Up ahead they could hear running feet and cries of panic. Doors slammed, shutters were thrown into place, and lanterns winked out one after another, until the place was dark and shut up tight. Every man, woman, and child had fled at their approach. A dog barked, a horse whickered, one last shutter banged shut, and then silence reigned. It was as if no one lived there.
“I’m afraid I never get much of a welcome unless I insist. Pity isn’t it?”
Mikhal’s laughter rang out through the night and Alliana was nearly strangled by her anger and the harsh words she forced herself to hold back. He was despicable. Everyone here was terrified of him, and he loved it.
They continued through the village without encountering anyone. Even the pub was shut tight. The laughter and bawdy talk had died. The creaking sign blew in the breeze, welcoming no one. It was usually the only place of merriment in the destitute village, but if there were patrons inside now, they were waiting in silence for him to pass, huddled over their ale, wishing they were home protecting their families, praying he wouldn’t stop at one of their houses and whisk their daughters away into the night.
That was an occurrence that had happened far too often, but no one dared to face Lord Arcos, none dared to stop him. He was hated and feared by all who served him, but he was also mighty. He owned every last one of them, or at least everything they owned. He was the all-powerful, brutal, landowner. They were mere serfs, who had to do as he bid. His dungeons were legendary, his cruelties widely known, his name whispered to children at night, to keep them good and safe. He was the stuff of nightmares.
“Not so talkative now, are you, Poppin? Have I frightened you, Luv?”
Alliana didn’t speak. She had nothing to say. They would be at her camp soon and images of her maman and papa swam in her head. Oh the horror they would feel when they saw her riding in, clutched in the arms of Mikhal the Merciless.
“Never mind, here we are. You just continue to hold that tongue and let me bargain. I’m willing to pay a high bride price for you, Kitten, but I won’t let them cheat me.”
Chapter Three
Any further conversation was put to a halt by their arrival at the camp Alliana called home. She'd squeezed her eyes shut at their approach, dreading the sight she knew would meet her. Shouts, gasps, and cries of horror filled her ears as they moved forward, and the flickering firelight of a dozen campfires danced behind her eyelids like the flames of Hell. The whole scene was surreal, like some twisted nightmare into which she’d been plunged.
How could she ever face them? All would be looking at her with eyes full of dread and despair when she dared to open hers. She felt shamed, full of deep remorse and regret, neither of which would do anything to save her, nor change her fate now. Their faces would be full of pain, full of questions, maybe even full of accusations. She’d always been too impulsive. They’d called her the bravi’os one. The wild one, and said she was too free spirited for her own good. She’d been told time and again tha
t her stubborn, willful ways weren’t proper, but she had always rebelled, and now that impulsive behavior had caught up to her.
Alliana took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes; the time had come to pay for her sins. She looked up with a pleading expression on her face, one that begged forgiveness, one that cried for rescue. As she dared to gaze upon the people she called family, her heart sunk in despair. Every one of them looked as if their world had come crashing down upon their heads. They were shocked and horrified, and knew at once that their precious golden child was in the clutches of a monster they could hardly fight.
All who beheld him easily surmised Mikhal’s identity; his description was known far and wide, as was the crest on his leather jerkin. His silk shirt with its extravagant lace collar and cuffs, doe skin leggings, fur-lined cloak, and highly polished black boots spoke of wealth, as did the sneer of arrogance on his face. No one in these parts had riches except for the devil that resided in the castle on the hill, and every soul was certain that the man holding their Alliana; had to be Mikhal the Merciless.
Alliana’s eyes shifted to her maman. She was sobbing, trying to reach her baby girl, but was restrained by her papa. Her friend Natalya stood on the other side of her maman, looking distressed and near tears. Many of the women were waving their skirts, sending a curse, an amaria, towards the man who held her, but Alliana knew in her heart that it would make no difference now. He was a curse in and of himself.
Other women were quickly herding the children into a wagon, not wanting them in the presence of the Bengalo, fearing for their lives. It was said, that the littlest of ones in the village, vanished in the night. What disaster had she brought down on her people?
Everyone in camp was awake from the young to the old. Not a soul was tucked into bed, as they should have been at this late hour. Alliana imagined they had been up searching for her since her disappearance had become known. Now their worst fears had been realized, the devil did indeed have the girl who held their future in her hands.
Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Page 2