Captured (The Captive #1)(22)

Aria froze, her hands trapped within the sleeves of the nightgown. She had not heard him coming. In the forest, she could hear a field mouse from a mile away. But here, in this strange and deadly place, when she needed her senses the most they were failing her. Badly. She did not turn to face him; she could not bring herself to do so. Instead, she remained unmoving. For the first time she was grateful for the silly, uncomfortable undergarments that at least shielded some of her nudity from his view.

She kept her head turned away from him, her breath held, as she waited for him to take his fill of the damage done to her body before he left again. She did not know what had brought him here tonight, not when he’d left her alone for so long, nor did she care. She simply wanted him to absorb whatever he could of her and leave; she had no fight in her tonight.

“What the hell happened?” he asked softly.

Arianna clenched her jaw as she pulled the nightgown further up her arms, grinding her teeth against the pain. She refused to answer him, refused to let him see that she was at all disturbed by his presence. He was before her suddenly, his hand seizing hold of the nightgown as he tried to pull it away. Aria clung to it, trying to keep herself sheltered from his gaze. However, he was far stronger than her, and in far better shape. In the end, she lost.

Tilting her chin up, she glared defiantly back at him, refusing to be intimidated by his show of strength and control. “What happened?” he demanded gruffly.

“Like you don’t know,” she snapped.

His eyebrows drew sharply together over his glasses, his mouth compressed in a hard line. “I wouldn’t be asking if I knew. What happened?”

Aria refused to back down from him, refused to cower beneath the weight of his heavy stare. “Your bitch happened,” she retorted fiercely.

Shock registered on his face, his mouth parted slightly as she felt his eyes wander slowly over her again. Though it was far more of her body than any man had ever seen before, she did not shrink from his gaze, did not turn away from him or try to shield herself from him. He already thought her far weaker than him; she would not support his theory by being afraid of his weighty stare. She merely straightened her shoulders. “Are you talking about that girl that was here earlier?”

Aria did not appreciate being played with. Especially not right now. Right now she simply wanted to go back to sleep and give her body a chance to heal before it was assaulted again tomorrow. “Yes, that girl,” she snarled.

The prince’s gaze wandered over her body once more. Aria was surprised to realize that he appeared angered by what he was seeing. “Why did she do this?”

Aria shrugged, wincing as she instantly regretted the action. Pain tore through her, she clamped down hard on the small cry that wanted to escape. “Because she can. I am just a blood slave after all.”

His jaw clenched tightly, his hands fisted momentarily. “You may be a blood slave, but you are my blood slave.” Aria would not meet his gaze, she kept her hands folded before her as she focused upon the back wall, refusing to look at him or respond to him anymore. “Stand up,” he commanded gruffly. Aria’s jaw clenched, but she did not move. “Get up!”

The words were practically snarled at her, but she didn’t move. She had been beat down enough over the past week, she would take whatever small victories she could get right now, and disobeying him was one such victory. She did not think about the fact that she was disobeying the prince, that he could do whatever he wanted to her right now. She just didn’t care anymore.

He made a soft hissing sound, and then his hands were upon her arms. She was surprised by how gentle his touch was as he lifted her to her feet. Aria’s eyes snapped back to him, her mouth parted in surprise as she gaped at him. He placed her on her feet, his hands rested lightly on her arms as he took a step back. Heat flooded her face, embarrassment suffused her. She couldn’t stop her hands from instinctively fluttering up to try and cover herself, but he pulled them easily aside.

Aria bit on her lip, fighting back waves of anger and despair as she stood before him, her body almost completely exposed for him to see. Yet, he did not leer at her, did not stare at her as if she were inferior to him and unworthy. His fingers trailed lightly over her ribs, running along the edges of the dark bruise that was clearly obvious against her pale skin. Though she kept her face impassive, she felt her body instinctively flinch away from his touch as it neared her broken rib.

His jaw clenched as his hand stilled upon her skin, his palm flattened gently upon her. “Your rib is broken.”

“I know.”

His head came slowly up, his shaded eyes were hidden, but she could sense the question behind those dark lenses. She did not answer it, as far as she was concerned he did not need to know how it happened. He already knew who and why and that was enough for her. Instead, she remained immobile, frozen beneath his touch. His hand remained against her, gently cradling the broken bone housed beneath her skin. His touch was far kinder than she had expected from him, he was the one that had allowed this to happen after all.

“And she did this to you?” Aria remained silent, trying to keep the tears in her eyes back. She did not want him to see them, did not want him to know that his gentleness touched her so deeply. Especially when she had decided that he was nothing but evil, that she wanted nothing to do with him, and that he was just tormenting her. “Arianna?”

She turned her head away. “Yes.”