Unbound (The Captive #7)(53)



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Max

Max kept his hands clasped before him as he stared at the numerous scars marking them. His neck had started to ache an hour ago from his forward, hunched over position, but he didn’t dare move. What had happened in that cave had triggered memories he’d been trying to bury since he’d escaped his vampire captor, Katrina.

But now the memories were there again, teasing at his mind. Screams echoed in his head, but they weren’t the screams of the vamp from today. They were his own. The fangs sinking into his flesh over and over again, burying deep into the same places until his skin was so raw he felt as if it had been flayed from his body. Katrina’s cruel laughter echoed in his ears as she ran her fingers over his bare flesh while he remained tied up and helpless to resist anything she did to him.

Breathe.

Sometimes, when the memories came to him, he forgot to breathe. He would find himself gasping for the air he’d unconsciously denied his lungs while waves of loathing for the vampires and himself swamped him. What had been done to him hadn’t been his fault, he’d always known that, but knowing it didn’t always make it any better. He’d physically responded to Katrina, his body reacting on its own even as he cursed himself and she laughed.

She’d always laughed too. Every time, she had laughed while destroying him one more small piece at a time. Plans of escaping her had been all that kept him going. Of escaping, rescuing Aria, and taking her far away. She’d always been Daniel’s kid sister to him, but he’d started to look at her differently before their capture.

Aria had grown to become a very pretty woman, but she’d been a scrawny teen. However, she had more spirit than anyone he knew, and he admired the strength of her love for her family and her rebellious nature. When she’d sacrificed herself to save John from the vampires, he hadn’t been able to let her go to the palace alone. He’d been convinced he could free her.

How incredibly wrong he’d been. If it hadn’t been for Jack rescuing them, he would be dead by now. Sometimes he wondered if he would have been better off never being saved as parts of him already felt dead.

Once they’d been set free and were no longer at the palace, he’d seen Aria as someone who could understand what he’d endured. He’d clung to the hope that her understanding would somehow be his salvation. No matter how often she’d told him her time as a blood slave hadn’t been the same as his, he didn’t believe her. He’d believed she couldn’t admit what had been done to her while she was imprisoned, that she’d been warped to have feelings for the vampire who had claimed her as his, but he’d been wrong.

He’d been livid with her afterward; she’d betrayed him and all of her loved ones for a monster. A monster who had loved her more than Max had ever seen anyone love another, a monster who had fought alongside all of them to bring freedom to humans. Somewhere along the way, Max had stopped seeing Braith as a monster and Aria as a traitor. He’d started seeing the good and bad in vampires as well as the good and bad in humans. He’d started to heal.

And now that healing was falling apart around him. Braith, the monster who had become his friend, was dead. Aria was barely holding herself together. The freedom they’d attained was fracturing around them, and his memories had been set free by a vampire who had deserved everything he’d gotten today, probably more.

He kept that thought firmly in mind as he finally lifted his head to look at those surrounding him. Most of the humans had retreated to bed hours ago, leaving only him and his friends behind. The flame from a lantern behind William’s shoulder caused his hair to shine like blood. Max turned his head away as images of his own blood streaming down from his wrists, tied above his head, filled his mind.

Closing his eyes against the memory, he rubbed at his wrists before rising to his feet and walking over to the jugs of wine stashed on another table.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Daniel asked in a low voice as Max poured himself a large glass of wine.

“Yes, I do,” he said as he drank all the dark liquid he’d just poured before refilling the glass. The wine was bitter on his tongue, but it warmed him all the way down. He looked to Aria and tipped the glass in a questioning gesture.

She nibbled at her lip. “No, I can’t.”

Lifting her glasses, she briefly revealed her blood-colored eyes as she rubbed at them before settling the glasses back into place. William glanced questioningly between Max and Aria before turning to watch while Xavier paced the room. Tempest sat in his lap, her gaze also focused on Xavier as he turned and walked back to the other side of the room.

“What happened out there?” William inquired.

“We found where they are right now,” Aria replied.

“Did you learn anything?” Timber asked.

“Yes,” Aria said.

Max drank down the rest of his wine and scowled at his wrist when his sleeve fell back to reveal his scars; the ever-present reminder of Katrina. She was dead, but he would forever bear her marks. Whatever Hell she was in now, he knew she was laughing over that knowledge. He poured himself another glass despite Daniel’s disapproving look. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to get sloshed, but he really couldn’t think of a more appropriate one.

Daniel, Timber, and William exchanged looks but no one prodded him further. Aria’s nails dug into her thighs as she gazed at him. Xavier stopped pacing to stare at Daniel for a minute before resuming his stalking movements.

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