Captured (The Captive #1)(10)
Aria moved forward, trying to get used to the new shoes, but barely able to move in them as she crept forward at an annoyingly slow pace. There would be no fleeing in these awful contraptions, and she found herself cursing whoever the idiot was that had invented them. Maggie took pity on her and grasped hold of her arm, helping her along. Aria did not jerk away from the girl this time, mainly because she needed the help, but also because no matter how much she did not agree with Maggie’s choices, she found she almost tolerated her.
She was led back into the main entrance room. The prince was lying on the sofa, his arm tossed over his eyes, and one leg planted firmly on the floor. The wolf lay on the floor before him; the animal lifted its head to watch as they entered the room. The prince must have sensed them, or heard them, as he dropped his arm and sat up. He was still wearing his glasses, but Aria knew instantly when his eyes landed upon her.
Her heart flipped in her chest, a strange sensation trickled through her as he stared silently at her. “Leave us.”
The three girls nodded briskly before slipping quietly from the room. Aria stood uncertainly, her hands folded before her, frightened by what was going to happen next. They were all alone in this room, and she was at his complete and utter mercy. “Much better,” he said softly. Aria swallowed heavily, biting on her bottom lip as she met his gaze again. “Come here.” She froze, her eyes widening and her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She did not want to get any closer to him, she was terrified of him, and the strange way that he made her feel so frightened, and yet so nervous and strangely excited. “I won’t hurt you.”
She didn’t know if she should believe him or not, but she felt that she could. She stood uncertainly for a moment more before attempting to totter forward on the death traps now strapped to her feet. A small cry escaped as her ankle twisted out, her legs buckled beneath her. He was beside her instantly, catching hold of her before she could hit the ground.
Aria’s eyes widened, she stared up at him in shocked wonder as he lifted her slowly. She began to shake, unable to understand this strange creature before her. Vampires were monsters, they destroyed humans, used them and abused them before tossing them away, but this creature was an enigma that she could not even begin to understand. One moment he was overbearing, intimidating, and threatening. The next he was like this, almost kind and gentle as he held her gingerly in his grasp.
Was this part of his game? Did he want to try and gain her trust before tormenting, torturing, and destroying her? That explanation seemed far more likely than the one that suggested that this creature, one of the leaders of the monsters, might actually be kind.
“I don’t think those shoes are for you.”
Aria blinked at him, her mouth parted slightly as he settled her onto the sofa he had abandoned. “Most definitely not,” she agreed.
Aria watched in stunned disbelief as he knelt before her. Her breath froze in her chest; her heart lumbered heavily in her chest as the prince of the vampires very slowly, and gently, slipped the awful things from her feet. His hands were soft upon her; his touch caused an odd thrill to race up her spine. She found herself wanting to trust him, wanting to like him even.
And she knew that was a very dangerous thing to do.
***
Braith stared up at the young girl before him. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, completely bewildered as she gazed silently at him. His hand lingered on her leg, brushing briefly against her soft skin. The dark bruises, and scratches upon her, were vivid against her pale skin. He didn’t know what had caused the obvious abuse that she had withstood, but he found that he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He didn’t know what it was about this girl, but she fascinated him, intrigued him, and captivated him in a way that no one ever had before.
She was a pretty enough thing now that the layers of dirt had been removed from her. She smelled better now that the smoke, blood, and stench of body odor had been scrubbed from her. He detected a faint hint of strawberries clinging to her, even though they had washed her in some flowery scent he found didn’t suit her. She was not one to be wreathed in gentle flowers; she appeared anything but delicate as she watched him out of narrowed, weary eyes. He sensed that beneath her docile demeanor there was something far more intense, and far stronger than the way she was trying to appear now. Her powerful scent, fighting to overcome the floral clinging to her, was a great indicator of that fact.
Her features were soft, delicate even, and as youthful as the innocence she radiated. Her parted mouth was full, her teeth straight and even, and surprisingly white for the lack of hygiene she had displayed upon arrival. Her crystalline blue eyes were wide upon him, full of disbelief, fear, and uncertainty. Yet, they also appeared intrigued and curious as she tilted her head slightly to study him. Her hair, scrubbed free of the dirt coating it, was a glossy dark auburn. It gleamed in the light of the room, the red within it shiny and bright. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen a shade quite like it.
He didn’t understand what it was about her that intrigued him so. He had seen women far more beautiful than her in his long lifetime. She was too skinny, her collarbones stuck sharply out, the bones in her hands were clearly visible. He preferred his women with more meat on them, but from the look of her upon arrival, it was more than apparent that her life was not one of abundance and pleasure like the women he was used to.
But from the moment he had seen her, actually seen her, he had been captivated and stricken. There had been nothing spectacular about the stage setup, or the people upon it. In fact, he had not seen a single person on it, until she had been brought forth. He had not even intended to stop at the auction as he had moved by the proceedings. He had no use for blood slaves, there were enough willing people in the world without the need for unwilling ones, but when she had been led forth he had stopped dead in his tracks.