Captured
Page 16

 Erica Stevens

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Aria nodded, warmed by the words, but not comforted by them. There would be little either of them could do if it were decided that she was a threat that needed to be taken care of. “You look exhausted.”
“I am,” she admitted.
“Sleep, we can talk later.”
But she didn’t want to sleep, she wanted to lay here and feel him against her. She wanted to lay here and enjoy the simple wonder of her strange and tenuous situation. But though she struggled against it, sleep was swift and deep when it claimed her.
Chapter 10
Braith watched the light play off of 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 quick and honed, she had actually managed to slap him after all, but she had not noticed his arrival. She was enrapt with the thin novel, her eyes wide as she read through the page.
She may not be the most beautiful woman, but she was by far the most stunning and appealing. He felt a surge of emotion as he watched her; it was an emotion he had never felt before, and one that he couldn’t name right now. Actually, the longer he stood and stared at her the more he realized that, to him, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. That she always would be.
She seemed to finally realize that he was there as she lifted her head, blinking at him in surprise. Then, a small smile spread over her face, lighting her delicate features and sparking her sapphire eyes. She swung her feet down, placing the book beside her as she rose. Her wrist and fingers were still bandaged; the white cotton a stark contrast against the soft hue of her skin.
She was mouthwatering, alluring without meaning to be, beautiful without even trying. And she was his. The possessive feeling was strong, intense, and consuming as it surged through him. It was true, he knew that. She was his, and he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, and protected.
“Hello,” she said softly, her gaze darting briefly away as her cheeks flooded slightly with color. He had left her sleeping, unwilling to wake her after the events of yesterday, when he had left this morning. Now her innocence, her uncertainty raced to the forefront.
“Arianna,” he greeted, smiling as he placed his cane next to the door. It was wonderful to be able to see once again, but the best thing was being able to see her. Keegan padded slowly into the room, and settled by her feet. Braith had not missed the fact that even the wolf seemed infatuated with her. “Did you eat?”
She nodded; her smile wan and tremulous as her gaze darted to the tray of food. Her dark eyebrows drew sharply together; a tumultuous expression crossed her face. Then, her expression cleared and she met his gaze again. He could see the fleeting thoughts that crossed over her expressive face, sense the questions that lingered just beneath the surface. He was surprised when she held her tongue though. It was a first since he had met her, he realized.
“Arianna?”
She smiled brightly at him, but it was a smile that did not reach her eyes. “This book is very good,” she said softly.
He glanced at the novel resting upon the seat, heaving a sigh as he pulled his coat off. He could guess at what troubled her, but if she didn’t want to speak about it, then he wasn’t going to force her to. It wasn’t something that he really wanted to discuss anyway. He was not going to push it on her, he was not going to make her do anything that she did not want to, but he still needed to feed. Even if he found the women he took blood from undesirable now, even if it was really her blood that he craved. He still had to sate his hunger otherwise he might hurt her without intending to. “It is one of my favorites.”
She watched him as he moved silently toward her. He was itching to touch her again, itching to feel her once more. Her head tilted back as she stared up at him, her mouth parting slightly, and her breath coming more rapidly. He could hear the increased beat of her heart; her pulse sped rapidly through her veins. He smiled at her, pleased to know that he affected her as much as she affected him.
He caressed her face, his hand twining into her thick hair. Her eyes were bright as they twinkled up at him. She truly was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. He bent over her, pressing a soft kiss to her full lips. Her sweet breath left her on a soft sigh that he caught as he pulled her closer to him. His arm encircled her waist; he lifted her against him, holding her tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
She melded against him, nestling easily, perfectly. He was amazed by how incredible she felt against him, how right all of this felt. How on earth had it come to this? That he, of all vampires, had managed to find himself in this situation, in this predicament of being ensnared by the allure of a human. But he found himself not caring as he lost himself to the feel of her mouth and body against his.
He was so lost to her that he did not hear the knock on the door until it was too late. It was Keegan’s low growl that alerted him to the new presence, Keegan had never liked Caleb. Braith froze, his hands stilling on Arianna as he pulled slightly away from her. She stared up at him in wide eyed shock as heat flared through her face. Though Braith could not see his brother, he could feel the force of his gaze on his back.
“Don’t let me interrupt you brother,” Caleb said softly, closing the door behind him. “You know I don’t mind.”
Fear and shock shot through Arianna’s eyes, her gaze darted toward Caleb, but Braith held her still, keeping her sheltered from Caleb’s scrutiny. A scrutiny he knew would be cruel, speculative, and far more leering than Braith wanted her exposed to. He held her for a moment longer before sliding her feet slowly back to the ground. How had he missed Caleb’s approach? He usually sensed his brother the moment he hit the hallway. Caleb carried a wave of cruelty, anger, and depravity with him that was hard to miss.
“You need to go to my room,” he told Arianna softly.
“By all means continue,” Caleb drawled lightly. “I’ll wait. I’ll even enjoy watching.”
Horror bloomed in Arianna’s gaze, she tried again to look at Caleb, but Braith held the back of her skull, keeping her sheltered from Caleb’s gaze. “Arianna,” Braith growled. Her eyes came back to him, her lips, still swollen from his kiss, began to tremble. He could sense her fear, her revulsion. He wished that he could take this away from her, shelter her from this, but he could not. It was too late for that, Caleb was amongst them now. And Caleb was one of the nastiest sons of a bitches that Braith had ever met. He didn’t want him anywhere near Arianna. “Go.”
She hesitated for a moment before nodding swiftly. He released her, taking a step back as she squared her shoulders and locked her jaw. She turned away from him, keeping her chin raised as she strode across the room, not looking at Caleb as she moved. “Wait!” Braith bristled, stepping forward as Caleb barked out the harsh command. He didn’t want anyone ordering her around, least of all his little brother. Arianna stopped, her gaze turned slowly to Caleb. She did not waver, did not hesitate as she kept her shoulders proudly back and her jaw clenched tightly. Caleb lifted an eyebrow, amusement flitted over his face, but Braith saw the immorality in his brother’s gaze as it raked sharply over Arianna.
“She’s not really your type Braith, not that you can see that, but she’s really not. I, on the other hand, always liked a redhead. I really think you should give me a turn at her.”
Horror flashed across Arianna’s face, her gaze darted frantically toward Braith. He hated that she was being exposed to this, hated his brother for doing it to her, but he could not stop it, not without revealing too much, and then her life would be forfeit. “I don’t share.”
Caleb shrugged absently, folding his arms over his chest as his gaze slowly raked Arianna from head to toe again. “Anymore,” Caleb purred. “Things were different just a month ago.”
“Go!” Braith snarled at her, fighting the urge to punch his brother in the face. Amusement flickered over Caleb’s handsome features, but he did not try to stop Arianna again as she hurried from the room. Though she hid it well Braith could sense her confusion, fear, and horror. Braith kept his attention on his brother, struggling to keep his fury under control and his face impassive. He wasn’t sure he succeeded though, as Caleb was staring at him questioningly. A gaze he didn’t realize that Braith could now see.
“What are you doing here Caleb?” he inquired when he heard the soft click of the door closing behind Arianna. Though his vision darkened without her beside him, he was still able to dimly make out his brother. Caleb shrugged as he moved into the room, settling himself leisurely upon one of the sofas. Braith bristled, but didn’t show a reaction to his brother’s cavalier attitude.
“Father is holding a banquet tonight.”
“Why?”
Caleb picked at the back of the couch as he stretched his long legs before him. “Jericho has returned.” Braith stiffened, Keegan padded over to him, brushing up against his legs. “And you know what it means if little brother has returned?”
“The war will resume,” Braith answered softly, his gaze darting 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 at what Jericho had learned during his time away, until Jericho informed them what it was. He had not agreed with Jericho being sent out to try and assimilate with the rebels in the first place. Jericho was young, reckless, and it was dangerous to send a prince into enemy territory. But he had insisted upon going, wanting to do something for their cause, wanting to prove that he was something more than the youngest son. And their father had been all too happy to send him, eager to see what Jericho might learn about the rebel faction, and not really caring if he lost his youngest. He had two other sons after all.
But Jericho was the only member of their family that Braith had ever remotely been close to, and he had not wanted to take the risk of losing his brother. His protests that if Jericho was captured he could be used as a weapon against them had fallen on the deaf ears of his brother and father. His father would not rescue Jericho if something went wrong, a point that he had made very clear.
And now Jericho was back, and if he was back that meant he had discovered a way to bring down the rebel faction. He had discovered a way to destroy their enemies. Braith wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear what it was though.
***
Braith stood in his father’s chambers, his hand folded over the head of his cane. Keegan sat silently beside him. It had been a long time since Braith had been in his father’s private living area. He could not see them now, but he knew over the years that his father had acquired more things, amassing his fortune within these private walls. He could sense things about him, hear the extra padding in the dull echo that rang through the enclosing walls.
“Your brother has returned.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Braith didn’t have to see his father to know that he was large, imposing, and dark. He was also sadistic. It was how he had managed to keep control of their race for over four hundred years, when many rulers had failed to keep it for more than a hundred at a time. His father ruled with an iron fist, no one stepped out of line, anyone that disobeyed was killed. They were not merely killed though, but tortured and destroyed in the most brutal and horrendous ways possible as a way to deter others who might try to bring the king down. He ruled by fear, he had won the war, and the vampires respected and obeyed him because of that.
Braith felt he should respect him too, he was his father, and he had succeeded where many had failed, but Braith felt nothing for the man except an intense dislike. His father had been cruel to the world outside of this palace, but he had been even crueler to the world inside of it. Beatings had been a mandatory rule upon growing up, being the first born Braith had received the blunt force of them, and being the youngest boy Jericho had also been heavily focused upon. Caleb had mainly managed to slip through untouched. Caleb also had a cruel way about him that his father recognized, and admired.
By the time Jericho had been born, Braith had been nearly grown and almost untouchable, and his father had eagerly turned his attention to a new target. It was why Braith had always felt closer to Jericho, had always looked out for his little brother, and had not wanted him sent straight into the lion’s den. His father had been more than eager to throw Jericho in there though, easily willing to toss him aside.
Braith had been surprised when his father hadn’t destroyed him after the loss of his eyesight; it had only been the fact that he had adapted so well to being blind that saved him. He could still fight as well as he had when he had been able to see his attackers, and he was still as ruthless as he had ever been. He was not like his father and Caleb though; he was not vicious for the pleasure of merely being vicious and cruel. He was simply a murderer when it was needed, and not a moment more. He was not his father and he was not Caleb, he did not relish in cruelty and he did not relish in hurting people, especially not children.