Captured (The Captive #1)(31)
Terror spurted through her, for the first time she was completely afraid of this whole mess. She had tried to convince herself that it would all work out in the end; that somehow they would escape. For the first time she realized that they probably never would. They would be stuck here, they would die here, and there was nothing that either of them could do to stop it.
A hand wrapped around her arm, she knew instantly that it was Braith’s as her skin came alive, and her entire body reacted to his touch. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as the hated woman slipped past her. Aria wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that she and Braith had made plans to meet up later. Aria knew what Braith was, what he needed, and he was not asking her for anything. She should be grateful for that; she was surprised to realize she wasn’t.
She hated the sense of hurt and betrayal that curled through her. Hated everything about this awful place, and horrendous day. She had never wanted the simplicity of her woods and caves more than she did at that moment. She lifted her gaze slowly to Braith, but he was no longer looking at her, in fact he looked as if he wanted to completely forget about her existence as he released her arm and moved swiftly through the parting crowd. Aria had to struggle to keep up with him as he strode purposely forward, nearly dragging her behind him.
She looked back at Max, struggling against the tears that burned in her eyes. He was watching her intently, his face dark with anger.
***
Aria was nearly breathless by the time Braith hauled her into his apartment. He radiated anger, but somehow managed to quietly shut the door. “Braith…”
“Your highness,” he grated.
Aria recoiled, her eyes widened, she felt as if she had just been slapped. She could understand why she was supposed to call him that in public, but they were alone now and there was no one near to question them. “What?” she managed to sputter out.
“I told you to call me your highness.”
Aria gaped after him as he released her leash and strode across the room. She was well aware of the fact that he had not removed the golden chain from her wrist. She stared at the long thin strand, wondering if it would ever come off again. She feared that it might not, and as long as it was upon her she would never be able to break free of this awful place. He’d told her that the chain was linked to him, that he could find it anywhere, and that he was the only one that could ever remove it from her. She wanted to believe that it wasn’t true.
All she wanted was to get free, she knew now that she had been completely wrong, he was just as cold and cruel as everyone else around here. She folded her free hand over top of the golden chain, wanting to rip the offending thing from her skin. She’d heard rumors, stories that if a slave tried to pull the chain free, it would slice through their skin, tearing into the flesh. Their blood would run freely, staining the gold. It was the reason the leash was known as the blood chain.
And at the moment, Aria didn’t care.
Panic and terror drove her as she dug at it, trying to rip it free. She did not notice her flesh shredding, did not feel the pain, or notice the blood spilling freely down her fingers and wrist. She just wanted free, she just wanted out of this thing, and she wanted her life back. She just wanted to not be someone’s captive, someone’s thing to use and order about as they saw fit.
Braith’s hands seized her. A strangled cry escaped her, she tried to rip her hands free of his grasp, but he clung to her. She jerked wildly at her arms, anger and frustration boiling through her. Freedom, all she wanted was freedom. “Let go of me!”
“Stop it!” he snarled, pulling her toward him. “You’re hurting yourself Arianna.”
“You’re hurting me!” she cried back, trying to escape his hold. “I’d rather be dead then be trapped like this! Why didn’t you just let me die!? Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with!?”
He pulled her hand away from the leash, thrusting it down by his side he pinned it there. “Enough!” he barked. “You would prefer to die than be separated from your lover?”
Her eyes widened, shock froze her as she gaped at him. “How dare you!” she gasped. He released her hand, tossing it away in disgust as he took a step back. “You know nothing of me! Nothing of my life! Nothing of who I am! You sit in this palace, where you have had everything handed to you, and you judge those that refuse to be battered down and broken beneath your rules, your poor treatment, and your death! You have no right to judge me!”
His dark eyebrows lifted sharply, his jaw clenched and unclenched tightly. “There is not much of you to judge.”
Acting on pure instinct, and with the reckless abandonment her father had often cautioned her about, Aria’s hand snaked up with the agility and speed that had enabled her survival for the past seventeen years. And which would probably end her life now as her hand connected with his face with an echoing slap that lingered for a long time in the deathly silent air. Aria panted, trying to catch her breath as she gazed at him in wounded shock. The mark of her bloody handprint was perfectly evident against the hard curve of his cheek.
His head, which had been knocked slightly aside by her hard blow, came slowly back to her. She could feel the shock that rolled through him, but beneath that she could feel the rolling force of fury building within him. She knew that she should be afraid, knew that she should probably beg for forgiveness, but she would not, and she did not.