Captured (The Captive #1)(21)
Aria shuddered in disgust, but she was more ashamed to admit that the realization caused an odd twinge of hurt within her. She should be relieved he had not turned to her; it was the last thing she wanted after all. She was lucky that he had not come after her, that he was not using and abusing her, that he was going to other women. Then why wasn’t she?
She may not understand her strange reaction to these circumstances, but she was beginning to understand Lauren’s intense dislike of her a lot more. She was threatened by Aria’s presence within these rooms.
What she didn’t understand was what the hell she was doing here. The prince had someone to sustain and provide for him. What did he want with her, when he had not even once tried to feed from her? Was she simply here for his enjoyment? For him to mentally torment her? She also did not understand, or want to acknowledge the sharp pain of hurt that stabbed through her. She refused to be hurt by the knowledge that the prince was with other women, refused to allow such an awful thing to happen.
She knew that the vampires were cruel, indifferent, brutal, and bloodthirsty but this was the first she had heard of this sort of thing. But then again, she had always just assumed that a blood slave was drained and tortured physically, but perhaps they were also mentally assaulted until they snapped completely, and had to be killed.
Aria shuddered at the thought, seconds before a barrette was jabbed roughly into her scalp. Aria shot Lauren a dark look, but her protest and anger died out as she saw the malicious gleam in Lauren’s eyes. A sinking feeling filled her as she realized that it was not only the vampires that were cruel here, but also the humans, her own kind.
And she was completely at Lauren’s mercy, a fact that was driven home by the sharp stab of the next barrette.
Aria withstood it all through the next few days; she took the handfuls of hair she lost with silence. She remained quiet through the skin pinching, jerking, pulling, and shoving that it often took for Lauren to get her into clothes that fit perfectly once on, but seemed almost impossible for Lauren to get on her at times. Bruises marred her skin from her chest down, but she was well aware of the fact that Lauren did not touch her face. Though she was in pain, Aria would not give Lauren, or the prince, the satisfaction of seeing her break, of seeing her cry.
Instead, she kept it all inside, letting her anger fester. She let it build, fueling her rage and fanning her desire to escape this place the first chance she got.
It wasn’t until she was climbing out of the shower, and Lauren pushed her onto the hard floor, that a startled cry of pain escaped her. Her knees smacked off of the hard floor, her palms stung painfully, her hip was bruised, and she heard the sharp crack of one of her ribs. Aria pushed herself slowly up, gingerly rising to her feet, her hand cradling her wounded ribs.
She had been trampled by horses before; it had hurt worse than this, but not by much. At least then she had been able to roll through most of the horses hooves. Now she was on a constant collision course with the woman that was torturing her on a daily basis. She did not know how much more she could take before she snapped and pounded the girl into a bloody mess. For though she was beaten, and now also broken, she was certain she could still take the blonde on and just as certain that she would face immediate death afterward for it.
She was beginning to think that death might be worth it, if it meant getting to extract a little revenge upon Lauren. The only thing holding her back was that she wanted to extract revenge upon all of them, not just the bitch before her. She wanted to show everyone that she was more than just the simple minded blood slave they thought she was.
Aria cradled her ribs as she defiantly met Lauren’s smug smile. She moved slowly, gingerly into the dressing room, trying not to cry as Lauren pulled the strings of her dress tight. For the first time since she had arrived, she ignored the tray of food outside her door, preferring to curl up in the bed, trying to fight off the agony crushing her chest. It did not help that she could not get the offending dress off, could not work the horrible tight ties free.
Somehow, she wasn’t quite sure how, she managed to fall asleep for a little bit. It was dark when she woke again to Lauren’s prodding. “Get up you filthy, lazy creature.”
Aria bit hard on her bottom lip, drawing blood as she held back her pain. Lauren pulled hard on the strings, finally releasing the tight binds pinching her rib painfully. Aria sagged in relief, gasping in as much air as her wounded ribs would allow. Lauren released her and left the room, leaving Aria to try and figure out how she was going to get the dress over her head, and the nightgown back on.
It took more strength and energy than she wanted to admit to wiggle her way free of the dress. Tomorrow morning she was going to throw the damn thing out, it was the piece of clothing she hated most now. Even more so than she hated the heels. She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to gather her strength to slip the nightgown over her head. She could just leave it off, Lauren had not bothered to help her out of the silly undergarments she had to wear here, but she could not sleep in such a vulnerable state. It was bad enough having to wear the silly nightgown to sleep when she was used to so much more, but to wear even less would be far worse. She was in constant danger here; she needed to be as clothed as possible if she was going to be at least a little prepared for that danger.
Drawing in as deep a breath as she could, she knotted the nightgown before her and slowly began to slip her arms in. She winced as pain shot through her battered rib cage. She struggled not to cry out, biting her tongue as agony tore through her side. “Arian…”