The Vampire King’s Captive

BRAN

Bran shot out of his throne seat, lunging towards Maria as if he could break her fall and catch her before she hit the ground, but she was already on the ground. He’d been too angry to notice the way her eyes were fluttering and the red haze that covered his vision had stopped him from catching the little movement where she swayed on her feet.

He turned accusing eyes on the oracle. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

“Watch your tone,” The oracle warned, her creepy eyes flashing in what he assumed was anger. “I didn’t do anything. You were sitting right here.”

That was true. He had been sitting right there and the oracle had not touched Maris. But it didn’t mean she had not done anything to her. Why else had Maria fainted?

“Then what happened?” He wondered out loud.

“I don’t know. She looks a bit pale.” The oracle drew closer, her head tilted appraisingly and a curious look on her fcae. She stopped when she was just in front of him where he was crouched in front of Maria, then she bent down and placed her hand on Maria’s forehead. “Her shields are down.”

“What?”

Bran searched, trying to get into Maria’s head, but her shields were firmly in place. Concentrating, he tried again, but the result was the same.

“Her shields are not down.”

“They are,” The oracle whispered, surprise etched on every part of her face and also her voice. “There’s something stopping us from accessing her thoughts and I don’t know what it is.” She withdrew her hand from Maria’s forehead and faced him. “I don’t think she knows what it is either. But whatever it is, its stopping us from accessing her thoughts.”

Bran could only stare at the oracle in shock, his mouth hanging open. Never in his immortal life had he seen nor heard of a case where one lowered their shields and yet their thoughts remained inaccessible.

“You’re saying she lowered her shields but there’s something-something else-preventing us from seeing her thoughts?” When the oracle nodded, he asked, “How is that even possible?”

“She’s a peculiar creature.” With those words, the oracle rose and stepped back. “I’m afraid I cannot help you, Your Majesty.”

And with those eight words, Bran was right back to zero.

Bran carried Maria’s limp form in his arms, instantly noticing that her skin was hot to the touch, then he rose and in sure strides, walked towards the door. “I’ll have your payment arranged. My man would see to it.”

Just as he was about to leave the room, the oracle stopped him.

“What?” He didn’t turn.

“You might want to be careful with her. Don’t do anything you’ll regret later.”

This time, Bran turned. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re going to need her.” The oracle said with a hint of finally in her words. She wasn’t going to say more. Fucking crypt.

Bran already knew that he needed her. She was his only hope of getting to his sister. For what other reason could he possibly need a sorceress? Bran wasn’t sure that there was another, other than the fact that she knew where his sister was.

He didn’t need a fucking oracle to tell him that.

He walked out without another word to the oracle, Maria cradled in his arms. He tried not to stare down at her as he walked back to her room-and failed.

How could she curl into him even when she wasn’t conscious like that?

He was her enemy and she was his. He loathed her existence as much as she hated him, he was sure. How then could she snuggle into his body as if she trusted him? Almost as if she was sure that he couldn’t hurt her?

She chose that moment to shift, resting her hand against his chest. His eyes fell on the mark on her arm; the cut he’d given to her. It might not have been his hand that inflicted the injury, but it was his doing nonetheless. He was the one that had ordered for her hand to be cut.

Christ, it still came like a blow to him everytime he thought that she was still mortal. But staring at a stark evidence was like a blow to the stomach.

If he had gone on with the torture, then her hand would have been no more.

He didn’t know why he shuddered to think of that.

She was perfect. The most beautiful and exquisite creature he had ever laid his hands on, and she didn’t deserve to have her hand severed. She might deserve it, considering the things she had done, but he didn’t want anything to taint her perfection.

But now she had one. A little imperfection. A mark to detract from her perfection.

When he got to her room and placed her on the bed, he reached for his phone in his back pocket and shot a quick text off to Edgar to pay off the oracle and escort her out of the castle. AS he made to keep his phone, he saw a bunch of unread texts from Corey.

He barely used his phone, but he carried it around in case Corey needed to reach him. How ironic was it that he was ignoring the man’s messages when he was the main reason he carried his phone around?

Bran would pick his calls and text him back. He would. But he just couldn’t admit to the man that he had not made any progress since. Not that Corey wouldn’t have figured that out already. He was a smart man. But Bran couldn’t just admit that he was still right where he had been since he captured the sorceress.

Movement from the bed caught his eyes and he saw that she was shivering. Pocketing his phone, he moved towards it and laid his palm on her head. She was even hotter than before-no pun intended. He dropped his hand to her neck-same thing.

It was almost impossible for him to pull his hand back and not give into the urge to feel the flesh that peeked just above the neck of her gown. Two globes of flesh that had tortured him, promising to drive him insane when she’d walked out of the bathroom with a few droplets of water trickling down her skin.

Hissing, he wrenched his hand away and shot off another text to Edgar to get the physician. She had seemed okay before, but apparently, the illness had not worn off.

He shield have listened to the physician. The man was supposed to come back yesterday to continue his administrations, but after a quick check in with the maid that delivered her food, who had told him that she looked better, he had called off the meeting with the physician.

Partly because he didn’t see the need and partly because he didn’t like the way he felt with the man hovering around her.

The man arrived an hour later. He was not much older than Bran-both in looks and age-wise-and that was exactly why Bran didn’t want him around. He stuck to the far side of the room, watching the man as he inserted an IV into Maria’s hand and grumbled about how much of a stubborn man Bran was.

“There should be improvements in the next three hours or so and if she follows the medications strictly, then there should be no problem.” The man said to Bran when he was done. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on her, of course.”

“I’m not sure there’d be need for that.” Bran told him, all but pushing him out the door. “If there’s any problem, I’ll let you know.” Then he slammed the door in the man’s stunned face.

Not his problem.

He knew how beautiful and angelic Maria looked lying down on the bed and twice, he’d caught the man staring at her. When he’d inserted the needle into her skin, he’d held her hand for longer than was necessary.

The man was definitely into Maria, all right. And Bran was not going to let him use ‘checking up on her’ as an excuse to spend time with her. Even if she was sleeping.

Bran was not sure why another man showing interest in her pissed him off, but it did.

He contemplated sitting beside her on the bed while she slept or leaving the room. It was becoming increasingly difficult to leave her and retire to his room recently and he wondered why that was.

It was not like he enjoyed talking to her-he didn’t even do it willingly-and it wasn’t like he was obligated to watch her. There were guards outside her room for that.

So why exactly did it not sit right with him every time he left her?

He didn’t have an answer to the question and he didn’t need one anyway. He was not going to stay in this room with her until she woke up like her fucking maid.

Rising, he traced out of her room and directly into the training quarters of the castle.

He needed to burn off some energy.