The Captive Series 1-5 Read online

  She dug in with renewed enthusiasm, somewhere along the way she even forgot he was watching her as she repeatedly helped herself to more of the delicious concoctions on the tray. Her stomach was bloated but full for the first time when she finally pushed her plate aside, wiped her mouth with her napkin, and sighed contentedly.

  “Are you full now?” His voice was tinged with amusement; a half smile curled his upper lip as he watched her.

  Aria ducked her head; heat flooded her face as she realized what she must have looked like in front of him. She’d eaten almost half of the copious amounts of food on the tray. She’d consumed more than she usually would have in three days.

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Good. I must go out for a bit, but if there is anything you require Maggie has been instructed to get it for you. You only have to ring for her. There is also a guard stationed outside your door, don’t consider escape.”

  Aria recoiled; she struggled to keep her face impassive, and her outrage hidden, as she was starkly reminded she was a prisoner in this place. She would never be free again unless she did something to try and change her circumstances.

  He’d been kind to her so far, but how long could she expect that to last? Aria folded her hands in her lap. She tried to keep her terror hidden from him, but she knew he could sense it.

  “I won’t be gone long.”

  Aria managed a small nod. It was all she could do to make that gesture; she didn’t trust herself to speak. The prince rose, straightened the dark shirt he wore, and reached for the cane propped against the couch.

  She saw the head of the cane was a silver wolf seconds before his large hand closed around it. She didn’t know why he used the thing; he didn’t limp or struggle with moving. Perhaps he thought it made him appear more dignified, or it was a weapon of some sort.

  He was dressed more sharply than yesterday and sporting the ring marking him as the prince of the house of Valdhai. That marked him as a member of the family who ruled the vampires, and the world, for the past hundred years. He wasn’t wearing it yesterday. Whatever he had to do today, it appeared it was relatively significant, and official.

  The wolf rose beside him; its green eyes were bright as it stared at Aria for a full minute before turning its attention back to its master. The prince whistled for the wolf, who padded eagerly over to him before they both slipped out the door.

  Aria remained sitting after the sound of the lock slid closed with a note of finality that frightened her.

  It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, but once she did, she launched to her feet and scurried through the apartment. He’d left her alone to search through things; left her to try and uncover a weapon.

  Silly, silly vampire, Aria thought as she scoured through the rooms. But the more she searched, the more she realized that perhaps he hadn’t been so foolish. There was nothing she could use to defend herself with.

  She moved through the library, and then another small sitting room that was apparently his. Hesitating, she stopped at the edge of his bedroom. She knew it was his by the dark, wood framed bed with a thick red blanket and mound of pillows.

  The furniture was masculine, and though she didn’t know what a lot of it was, she discovered some things held his clothes. His scent hung heavily in the room and on the clothing. She inhaled deeply, savoring his smell even as she looked for something to destroy him with.

  Yep, she’d officially lost it, and she didn’t think she’d get it back until she was free of this place.

  Turning away from the clothes, her gaze lingered on the massive bed. A strange tingling sensation worked its way through her belly. It heated her from the inside out as she was suddenly swamped with the longing to see him again, to hear his voice, to breathe in his untamed scent.

  Instead of continuing her search, she found herself retreating from the room and the unfamiliar wave of heat spreading through her. She’d never fled from anything in her life, and now she was running from a smell and feelings?

  She hadn’t been too afraid to risk becoming a blood slave, but the sight of his room was enough to turn her into a total coward. It was complete insanity, and yet she couldn’t stop her feet from insistently moving away.

  Her head spun, she couldn’t get to her room fast enough. She leaned against the door, breathing heavily as her body trembled. She was beginning to hate herself, and yet even that emotion wasn’t strong enough to outweigh the growing yearning curling through her. Aria didn’t know what she was yearning for, but she knew it had to do with him, and she didn’t like it.

  Her fingers shook as she forced herself away from the door and back to the task that sent her into his room in the first place. She had briefly searched the room she was given last night, but even so, she went through it again. She’d been exhausted and barely able to stay awake when she was brought in here. It was entirely possible she missed something.

  Her attention focused on the antique looking nightstand beside the bed she slept on last night. It was far different from the hard floor of the caves and forest she was used to; even the pallets of straw she sometimes slept on had nothing on the softness of the bed.

  The bed, she decided as she studied the thick mattress and spongy pillows, was almost as good as the shower, but not quite. She tried not to think of her family and their conditions right now as she grabbed the wooden stand and tipped it over. Tried not to think of the hunger and discomfort they were going through as her gaze fell to the legs of the stand.

  She knelt before it and sat back on her heels as she studied the spindly pieces of wood. It wouldn’t be the best stake, that much was obvious, but it was better than nothing, and nothing was all the other rooms had to offer her.

  Leaning forward, she grabbed one of the legs and snapped it free. The wood was ragged, thin; she would only get one chance to use it before it broke. She’d only get one chance before he snapped her neck in retaliation anyway.

  Although she knew the possibility of escaping was slim, she would have to make sure it was a damn good chance if she had any shot at surviving and making a break for it. It would be a major boost to the resistance if she somehow, miraculously, managed to destroy the prince. She ignored the twisting guilt in her stomach at the thought of killing Braith. It had no place here.

  Rising to her feet, Aria hurried from the room. She grabbed the knife she’d been given to cut her meat with, and four books from the library. She made sure to pull the books from different shelves and carefully rearranged the other ones to hide the holes.

  Returning to her room, she used the books to prop the stand back up and made sure nothing of the books showed from every angle of the room.

  Retreating to the bathroom, she leaned over the toilet as she hastily sharpened the slender piece of wood with the knife. The toilet was another contraption she was beginning to appreciate, especially now. A sense of urgency filled her; she needed to get the knife back before he returned. She didn’t think he would notice the missing books, there were so many of them after all, but the knife would most certainly be missed.

  Shavings fell into the toilet as she carved the end of the wood into a deadly tip. It took several flushes before all the shavings disappeared. Raising the stake, she examined her handy work with an appreciative eye. It wasn’t much, she would have preferred her bow and arrows, but if given the right opportunity, it would work.

  Aria didn’t know what she would do if somehow, miraculously, she managed to take down the prince, but that was a problem she would face when it occurred. Until then, she was happy to have some weapon. It emboldened her and gave her a sense of confidence she’d lacked since entering the palace.

  She stood before the mirror, carefully positioning the stake in between her breasts. The cumbersome undergarments they heaped on her came in handy as she adjusted the dress to conceal the thin stake.

  Her eyes were wild as she studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had to regain control of herself, but she was terrified
of what he would do to her if he somehow found the stake.

  He’d kill her, she was sure of it. She was also certain if she didn’t make some attempt to escape she’d die anyway. At least, if she were successful, she might help the rebellion by taking down one of the more powerful vampires with her.

  Chapter Six

  The next few days passed in much the same way. Aria would stash her weapon under her mattress before Maggie arrived in the morning to assist her in dressing. Aria refused Maggie’s help with the shower though; she had it figured out now.

  She even had the razor and shaving part of it mostly down and didn’t slice herself nearly as much as in the beginning. She still wasn’t any good with the zippers or buttons of the dresses, and because of that, she was grateful for Maggie’s help.

  After Maggie left, she would slip the stake back into her dress, reassured by the solid press of it against her flesh as she bided her time and awaited the right opportunity.

  The prince sat with her at breakfast every morning and then disappeared for a few hours during the day. In his absence, Aria would wander around aimlessly, growing increasingly anxious and frustrated with her captivity.

  Around noon another heaping tray of food would be sent up, she would eat it alone, and miserable. The prince would return, talk with her for a bit, sit with her while she ate dinner, and retire to his room.

  It was the loneliest Aria had ever been, and she’d spent many days and nights alone in the woods, or within the caves. But on those occasions, she’d always known she would return to her friends and family and their loving company. Now, she had little hope of that, and the rest of her days may consist of being confined to these rooms.

  It would only be a matter of time before she went crazy from it.

  Aria meandered into the library again. She studied the walls of books, her gaze roaming over the thick leather bindings. She often found herself in this room, curious as to what the books contained within their covers, speculating about the stories within them. She moved toward them unhurriedly and trailed her fingers over their spines. The leather was cold, smooth, and unyielding beneath her fingertips. She yearned to know what they said.

  Oh, she knew a few words, not many, but enough to decipher plans and most of a message, but that didn’t help her with these hardbound mysteries. She could make out most of the titles, but when she opened the covers, she found almost everything inside blurred into gibberish. It frustrated her to have them so close by, mocking her inability to read and understand them.

  She slipped one of the books free from the others. It fascinated her most for some reason. Opening it, she leisurely flipped through the somewhat yellowed pages as she picked out the words she recognized.

  Shaking her head, Aria sighed as she closed the book and slid it back onto the shelf.

  “Something against Ivanhoe?”

  Aria nearly shrieked as her head snapped up. She hadn’t heard the prince enter the apartment, but there he was, leaning against the doorway with his head bowed as he studied her from behind his glasses. She gulped, unsure of how he would react to finding her here, and confused as to who or what an Ivanhoe was.

  “Ivanhoe?” she croaked.

  He remained unmoving; his brow creased thoughtfully. “Yes, Sir Walter Scott’s tale of Ivanhoe. It’s quite entertaining, and something you would probably enjoy as he was a bit of a rebel himself.”

  Aria couldn’t help but smile at the teasing tone of his voice. Though she was lonely and lost here, she found his company oddly comforting. Probably because he was one of the only two people she had to talk to in this strange, uncertain world.

  “Oh,” Aria glanced back at the novel, glad to finally know what the title of it was. “I see.”

  He moved away from the door and strolled toward her. Stopping beside her, his arm brushed against hers as he stretched around her to retrieve the book she had just replaced. Aria’s heartbeat picked up, her skin prickled and warmed at his nearness. Even as she cursed her traitorous body, her toes curled.

  She didn’t trust him and still despised his kind, but he’d been nothing but pleasant to her over the past few days. The more time she spent here, the more fascinated she became with him. She hated that feeling, but she couldn’t shake it. She thought it must have something to do with the fact she was trapped here and dependent on him.

  Seeming to sense her strange reaction to him, he froze with his arm pressed against her chest as he inhaled deeply. The prince didn’t require air to breathe, she knew. Right now, he merely savored her scent. That realization only increased the growing heat of her body. She couldn’t look at him as he broke the tension by pulling the book from the shelf and held it out to her.

  “It was one of my favorites when I was younger. I think you will enjoy it,” he said.

  Aria stared at the fascinating book. Her fingers trembled when she took it from him, unwilling to admit she didn’t know how to read. He already thought her ill-mannered, unkempt, and possibly a little backward. She didn’t want him to think she was stupid too because she most certainly wasn’t.

  “I’m sure I will,” she muttered.

  His finger was gentle beneath her chin as he nudged it up. “Arianna, do you know how to read?”

  Her gaze darted around; she looked everywhere but at him. She couldn’t bring herself meet his gaze as she tried to figure out how to answer.

  “Arianna?”

  She recognized the annoyance tinging his voice as he became aggravated with her. It didn’t often happen, usually only when she didn’t eat as much as he liked her to, or when she tried to get out of having Maggie help her.

  For the most part, he was patient, considerate even, and she found herself liking him almost as much as she hated him for it. Because she was confident something terrible was coming, and he would turn on her. She was convinced this strange kindness was a charade to earn her trust before annihilating her.

  “A little,” she admitted on a whisper.

  If he laughed at her, if he so much as smirked at her, she swore she’d hit him, or stake him, and damn the consequences.

  To his credit, he did neither of those things. His finger momentarily stroked her chin before he released her.

  “We will have to remedy that,” he said. “Come.”

  Aria stared at his retreating back before he disappeared. Remedy that? What did that mean?

  Aria followed him to the sitting room, but he didn’t go to the sofa. Instead, he crossed to the seat by the bay window and settled on it. She hesitated, uncertain what to do or say.

  His eyebrows rose over the dark lenses as he patted the seat beside him. “I will not bite you, Arianna.”

  Displeasure filled her as she glared at him, not at all appreciative of his teasing words. She’d never backed down from a challenge before, and she wasn’t about to start now. She threw her shoulders back and stalked toward him.

  His hand left the seat beside him, sliding away as she awkwardly settled in next to him. He considered her for a moment before taking the book from her, opening it, and placing it on their laps.

  Aria gazed at the page, her discomfort growing as she stared at it. The words and letters swam before her on the page, blurring together before snapping back into focus; they still made no sense.

  “It’s okay,” he assured her.

  She turned toward him as trepidation trickled through her. The force of his shaded stare burned straight into her soul. His hand wrapped smoothly around her wrist; her breath hitched in her chest, and her heart fluttered like a caged bird.

  For a moment, she could only stare helplessly at him, confused by the strange sensations and emotions he aroused in her. Why was he toying with her like this? Why was he so kind when they both knew he would destroy her?

  Deciding not to fight against it and play along with his games, she settled back in the seat. Perhaps it was best if he thought she trusted him, that she wasn’t waiting for him to rip her throat out. It could work to her benefit, per
haps give her the opportunity to escape she so desperately sought.

  He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side. His skin was cool to the touch, not as warm as hers, but not unpleasant either. She found she fit perfectly against him and didn’t mind the feel of his cooler flesh; in fact, she almost welcomed it against her heated skin.

  She was willing to play the game, but this was so very intimate and cozy. It was something she’d never experienced before; it was unnerving and exciting all at once. She worried she could be lost within his game, swallowed up and destroyed by it. She didn’t know the rules as he did, and she had no experience playing it.

  She forcefully reminded herself he was a monster, that he was toying with her and taking joy in her discomfort, even if he didn’t appear to be. Her fingers twitched as she studied those dark glasses.

  Not for the first time, she hoped he would take them off so she could see his eyes; she was desperate to know what color they were. But in the week she’d been here, she never once saw him without those shades.

  For one, heart-stopping moment, she thought he would kiss her as he leaned forward a little. She wanted to pull away; she wanted to move closer. Instead, she found herself as caught up as a fly within a spider’s web. And what a web it was, she realized as he broke the moment by leaning away from her.

  He settled the book more firmly between them. Aria found herself forgetting everything else as his fingers lingered on her waist. Drawing her legs up beneath her, she focused on the secrets hidden within the pages.

  She was eager to absorb what he would teach her, and she’d been contemplating the contents of this book for nearly a week now.

  Leaning against his side, she followed along as he leisurely read the novel, pronouncing each word carefully as he urged her to sound them out with him. The smile on his face surprised her; it was rare to see such a thing on him. He was always somewhat reserved and perfunctory, but he seemed to enjoy the book as much as she did.