Captured (The Captive #1)(11)
She had been unremarkable, filthy, disgusting, and bold. Defiance and pride had radiated from her. They were a beacon calling out to him, snagging hold of his attention as nothing in years had. At first he had barely seen her, but the longer he stared at her, the clearer she had become to him.
He sat back now, tilting his head as he watched her. She studied him with the same intensity with which he studied her, but they studied each other for completely different reasons. She wondered about her fate, what he was going to do with her, and what he wanted from her. He studied her because he could actually see her. It was amazing to him, fantastic and wonderful and slightly disconcerting.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked softly, her forehead furrowing slightly as her gaze ran over him.
Braith sighed softly, tossing the heels aside before he rose slowly to his feet. Her mouth parted, her head tipped back to stare at him. “What is your name?” he inquired.
She licked her lips nervously, her small hands pulled at the sleeves of the sweater as she fidgeted anxiously. There were small nicks and cuts on her long fingers, calluses marred her tanned hands. “Arianna,” she said softly.
He lifted an eyebrow, quirking his head to study her. “Is that your real name?”
A small smile flitted over the edges of her full mouth, for the first time he saw real humor in her eyes. “Yes.”
He found that he believed her as he settled onto the sofa beside her. “I am Braith.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes weary again. “Yes, I know. What do you want with me Braith?”
“I don’t know yet Arianna.”
Fear flashed through her eyes, she recoiled slightly before straightening her shoulders, clenching her jaw, and narrowing her eyes on him. “Everything you do to me will be done by force.”
Her defiance should annoy him (she had already defied him more today than anyone ever had in his life), but he found himself slightly amused by it right now. As long as no one was around he found he did not mind her show of courage. “You think so?” he asked softly.
She looked slightly surprised, but it was quickly covered up. “I know so!” she retorted sharply.
He shrugged indifferently. He didn’t know what he wanted with her, what he intended to do with her. He may decide tomorrow that he didn’t want her here at all; he didn’t believe he would, but he was known for his whims of fancy, especially when it came to women. He was captivated by her, and his ability to see her, but he didn’t know what he was going to do with her.
One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to force himself on her. He had done a lot of things in his long life, many of them not good, but he had never forced himself on an unwilling woman. There was no need to; there were so many willing ones out there.
“We shall see,” he said simply.
Her eyes narrowed in fury, her delicate nostrils flared. He didn’t know why he was baiting her, but it was amusing to watch her when she was irritated with him. Her jaw clenched harder, she turned slowly away from him, her hands fisting upon her slender legs.
“Where are you from Arianna?”
Her chin rose slightly, but though she was still holding the appearance of defiance, he could sense the pain that shimmered through her. “Around,” she said simply.
“You live in the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a member of the resistance?”
She hesitated, her knuckles turning white with the force of her clenched fists. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Resistance members are punished for their disobedience by becoming blood slaves, or being bled dry. It’s a way to discourage our fighting, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” he agreed softly. “You think that is wrong?”
“Don’t you?” she snapped.
He sat back as he studied her. The bright blue of her eyes was ablaze with indignation and righteousness as she glared at him. “If your kind would simply just agree to work with us, then there would be no need for punishment.”
“Agree to be your slaves in other ways you mean?”
He shrugged again, without thinking he reached out to take hold of her hand. He heard her breath freeze as he tried to soothe the tight pressure within her fists. Her head tilted slightly to the side, those wide innocent eyes were surprisingly earnest as she watched him. “It is the law of the world that the strongest will prevail.”
“And you are the strongest?” she demanded.
“Of course.”
Her eyes narrowed, her gaze was intense and questioning. Finally, she nodded slowly, biting nervously on her bottom lip as she turned away from him. She shook her head slightly, her head bowed as she fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater again.
“You do not agree?” he asked.
“You did succeed in driving us out of our homes, forcing us to run and hide. You do feed off of us, so yes I suppose that makes you stronger. In your own minds at least. It does not give you a right to do what you have done to us though.”
“Most people returned to their homes when the war was over. Most people picked up the lives that they had left behind. It is only The Resistance that has remained hiding and fighting and dying within the woods for the past hundred years.”
She turned slowly back toward him, her defiance melted away as fury blazed forth. “Is that what you believe? That they simply picked their lives back up? That they returned to something good? That they have been thriving since the war ended!? Even within the woods, with no walls and no homes, we have more than the ones that returned to their lives. They are starving, with little clothing and no money. There were no jobs to return to that did not involve being some sort of servant to your kind. That does not involve being beneath you! There was nothing for most of them as your kind took over the better jobs, and forced us into menial roles that would keep us stupid and weak while building your people and your world to ever higher levels.