But even more potent than her blood, had been her words. Whispered words of love repeated over and over again as she had embraced him. Words he had never heard before, but had relished and believed in them. Just as he had believed her vow to never leave him, to stay with him always.
Lies, it had all been lies, and he'd been the fool that believed them. Now he almost wished that he had killed her; he wished that he had never given her the opportunity to betray him like this. He fought the urge to smash his cane off the wall. He wanted to rip his brother limb from limb, he wanted to grab her and shake her, make her tell him why she had offered her blood to him, why she had told him she loved him, and then left him the very next morning. It was the treachery that made him angriest, the treachery that made him yearn to hunt them down and destroy them. And he could, he could find her so easily.
He could track her through her precious woods, seize hold of her, drag her back here, and lock her away for the rest of her miserable life. He could make her pay dearly for her betrayal, make his brother pay. He could make both of their lives a living hell if he chose to. He could destroy them, ruin them completely. Arianna may not have realized that due to his blood in her veins he could now find her whenever he chose, but his brother should have known better. Jericho should have known that Braith would come after them, and that he would make Jericho pay for helping her, and make her pay for her lies.
"The other blood slave?" he demanded as he turned back to the servant.
He could hear the man shifting nervously; feel the panic coming off of him. "Is also gone your majesty."
Rage suffused him once more; he couldn't stop himself from smashing his cane off the wall. The impact jarred through his hand, the cane shattered, sending pieces of debris flying. He wasn't sure if it was Keegan, or the servant that yelped in response. Braith stood for a moment, shaking with anger, barely able to keep his fury under control.
"Get me a new cane," he snarled.
The servant scrambled away, his feet cluttered over the debris. Braith stood for awhile, trying to regain control of himself and his wildly swinging emotions. It was awhile before he felt calm enough to move again without ripping something to shreds. It took even longer before he could take a new cane from the servant, without being worried that he might kill the innocent man.
"We'll go after them, we'll make them pay." Braith turned at the sound of Caleb's voice. It was funny that just yesterday Jericho had been his favorite, now he despised him even more than he ever could have disliked Caleb. "There are already men gathering to hunt them down."
Braith remained silent for a moment, he could find her in a matter of hours, but he found himself remaining where he was. He didn't want that traitorous bitch back in his life, didn't ever want to see her again. He preferred his world of blackness to the sight of her disloyal, hideous face. She had wanted her freedom so badly that she had lied and manipulated for it, as far as he was concerned she could have it. She could have her starvation and cold, her misery and dirt; she could have everything that she craved.
He wanted nothing to do with her anymore, and wouldn't stand in her way.
"Jericho has been labeled a traitor."
"He is," Braith growled.
"There is a large bounty on his head; it shouldn't be long before one of the starving masses turns him in. I am sure that the other two slaves will be in his vicinity, and I am also certain that he will turn on them as swiftly as he turned on us when we find him."
Braith nodded, he wrapped both his hands around the head of his new cane. "If he is found, he will be brought to me, alive. All of them are to be brought to me."
"Of course," Caleb murmured in assent.
Braith leaned back, closing his eyes as he tried not to think about the depth of her betrayal. He wouldn't hunt them down, he wouldn't go into the woods after the two people he had come to rely on, and trust, the most. But if they were captured and brought back here, he would be the one to make sure that Jericho was destroyed, and he would be the one to personally hand her over to Caleb. Then he would sit back, and relish in the sounds of her screams as Caleb did what he did best.
Until then, he was going to gorge himself on as much blood as it took to help him forget this horrendous mess. He moved toward Caleb, finally beginning to understand his brother's cruelty and hatred as those emotions took root in his gut, spread through his chest, and buried him beneath their crushing weight. He had never experienced these emotions to this degree before, never knew that it was possible to do so until now. But he relished in the hatred and bloodlust consuming him, they were the only things that helped to bury his betrayal and hurt. "Clean this mess up," he barked at the servant.
Keegan padded after Braith, following him down to the dungeons. The wolf had never been here, it had been years since Braith had been down here, mainly because he despised it. Now he found himself craving it, needing it, desiring it with a ferocity that left him shaken. He threw the doors to the dungeons open, the scent of humans and dread assaulted him. These were the blood slaves of the royal family, at least until they were drained dry, and discarded to make room for others.
He moved quickly through, stopping only briefly to pick out three women from behind the bars. He didn't know what they looked like, but the scent of their blood was not as repulsive to him as some of the others. "Have them cleaned and brought to me," he commanded the guards.
He may not have Arianna now, but he was going to satisfy himself, and attempt to ease some of his pulsating bloodlust. It was not lost on him that a skinny wisp of a girl had managed to do in one month what his father had failed for over nine hundred years to accomplish. She had succeeded in turning him into a coldhearted, blood thirsty monster.
THE END
RENEGADE
- CHAPTER 1 -
Aria didn't have to look up to know that Max had arrived. He'd been joining her here, at the same time, everyday for the last month. Even if she hadn't been expecting him, she would have detected his presence by his subtle smell and quiet step. He settled onto the ground beside her, remaining silent as he picked up a rock and leisurely skipped it across the lake. Aria handed him the fishing pole beside her, the hook was already baited and ready for him. He took it from her, casting it easily into the center of the lake.
Aria swung her feet back and forth, her toes skimming across the water. The cool water felt wonderful against her overheated skin. Using the back of her arm, she wiped away the sweat already beading along her forehead. They sat for awhile together, wordlessly reeling in the fish they caught. They kept the ones that were good to eat, and tossed back the ones that were too small.
Aria had started retreating to this spot soon after her escape from being a blood slave, and her subsequent return home. Max had found her here two days later. They rarely spoke, they didn't have to. They had both been inside that place, both been owned and used, and both of them had been forever marred by the vampires that had possessed them. The monsters that had owned them. Though, decidedly, Max's experience had been far worse than hers.
She had been owned, led around by a leash, and used, but the extent of her use was her own fault. She'd willingly given the prince her blood, mistakenly thinking that she was falling in love with the deceptive bastard, but that had been before she'd learned that he was engaged. Though she hated the prince now, she couldn't deny the sharp stab of sorrow that pierced her at the thought of him marrying another woman. It brought tears to her eyes every time it crossed her mind, which was far more often than she cared to admit.
But, no matter how badly she'd been hurt, no matter how much she'd been betrayed, her experience hadn't been anywhere near as awful as Max's. Though they didn't talk about it, she knew what happened to blood slaves. They were used, abused, and discarded when their owners grew tired of them. Even though Max always wore long sleeves, every once in awhile his shirt would ride up and she would catch a glimpse of the marks and burns that scarred his fair skin. She'd seen the haunted look that fil
led his bright blue eyes when he didn't think anyone was looking.
She'd suffered abuse while within the palace, but it had been at the hands of a human servant, and not the vampire prince. The prince had broken her heart, but he had never intentionally inflicted any bodily harm on her that she hadn't asked for. In fact, he had been unfailingly tender with her.
Though she hated to acknowledge it, she knew that if the prince hadn't taken so much of her blood on her last night in the palace, which left her incoherent, she would have given him far more than just her blood. She would have freely given him her body, and her last piece of self respect. It was a fact that she hated herself for, and tried not to think about. Especially since the thought still left her oddly shaken and aching with a need that had been left unfulfilled, and always would be.
The prince may not have been physically abusive to her, but Max's owner had been just as cruel and brutal as they'd always heard vampires were to their slaves. Aria's neck was only marred by one bite mark, one that she had yearned for so badly that her whole being had begged for it. A bite that had nearly stripped her soul from her, and left her a far different person than the one she'd been before he'd fed from her. A mark that was fading faster than she wanted it to, yet nowhere near as fast as she wished it would. She didn't like losing the mark, it was her last connection to the prince, and no matter how much she hated him, she couldn't deny that he would always own a piece of her heart. But it could only be a small piece as he had succeeded in shattering the rest of it.
She hoped that once the mark was gone she would be able to forget about the prince. Maybe once it was gone, she could move on with her life and not hurt so much all the time. Maybe she wouldn't ache constantly, the dreams would stop haunting her, and she could stop just existing and actually start living again. She would like to take pleasure in the woods again, but since her return she'd found little joy in the wilderness she'd once loved so dearly.
Max reeled his line in, deftly unhooked a decent sized bass, and added it to their growing catch. Aria pulled her dark pants up, baring her legs to her knees. She squirmed her way closer to the edge of the lake, and dipped her legs up to her shins in the water. She would like to go swimming soon, wash her hair, and clean herself. One of the few things she missed about the palace, besides the prince, was the blessedly hot showers and baths she'd taken. Diving in the lake wasn't the same cleansing experience, though she did it far more often now than she had before she was captured. Being clean every day while in the palace had left her with the same desire now that she was home.
After about an hour, Max finally spoke. "You had another bad dream last night."
Aria sat silently, she didn't know how to tell him she didn't have nightmares like he did. She didn't relive violent beatings and torture. Her dreams were about the last night she'd had with the prince, the awe she'd felt, the joy and love that had suffused her. His feeding from her had been so breathtaking, and amazing, that she still missed the connection. Something she would never admit to. It had been painful for Max when his owner drank from him, but for her, it had been a moment of pure ecstasy that had touched her profoundly. It was the loss of that joy, the loss of him that caused her to cry and moan and awaken at night. For her the night was not about reliving torment, like it was with Max. It was about reliving heartache.
She had never deluded herself into thinking that anything between her and the prince could last. She would have had to die eventually, the rest of the royal family, his wife, would have seen to that. She had deluded herself into thinking that he might actually care for her also. But that was before she'd learned that he was already engaged to someone else. The thought still left her feeling furious and betrayed.
Max wrapped his hands lightly around hers, trying to steady them as they shook on the pole. "The fish will know you're here."
She managed to return his feeble smile as she labored to breathe, struggled to regain control of her bruised pride and broken heart. "I don't think my nightmares are as bad as yours," she said quietly.
He squeezed her hand soothingly before reluctantly releasing her. They had never spoken about their experiences, though it was obvious that they'd both been changed forever. But Aria had gained weight while in captivity, Max had grown even thinner, his bones were still sharp against his pale skin. He had far more bruises, scars, and bite marks than she did, though her scars were mainly inside. His experience had been far more physically taxing but just as mentally abusive, and toxic, as hers had been.
"That's a good thing," he murmured.
She tilted her head, offering him a small half smile. His clear blue eyes were tender. His sandy blond hair hung about his handsome face and stark features. It was her fault that Max had even been in that awful situation. He had allowed himself to be captured after she was taken, with the hope that he would be able to get them both free. Unfortunately, he hadn't anticipated just how much of a lockdown blood slaves were placed in. Though, she'd been afforded far more freedom than he had.
She glanced down at her wrist, the one that had been scarred by the leash she had tried to rip from her. All she'd gotten for her efforts was a bloody wrist, bloody fingers, and a pissed off prince who had been so unbelievably tender afterwards.
She forcefully shut the thought down. Recalling the prince as tender and loving only reopened the raw and jagged lesions still festering upon her heart. "You never should have been there Max, I'm sorry."
It was the first time she had apologized to him for her role in his capture; she hadn't been able to get the words out before. She'd tried to apologize many, many times, but neither of them liked to be reminded of their time there. They both kept it to themselves in a bogus attempt to deny that it had even happened, and they were both failing miserably at it. No matter how much they sought to pretend that their captivity hadn't happened, they couldn't succeed at it.
He was silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he stared across the lake. He turned toward her, his eyes haunted, but there was something else in them too, something more.
There had only been one other man that had ever looked at her like that, and in the end he had left her shattered and broken. She was barely able to breathe through the grief that continuously clawed at her insides. The prince had ruined her, and Max didn't fully understand that yet. She hoped that one day he would. The last thing she wanted was to have Max saddened because of her again, but with the way he was looking at her, she felt it was inevitable.
"I made the choice to go after you Aria, it was my fault that I was caught, not yours. Even knowing what I do now, I wouldn't change anything. I would never leave you alone Aria, never."
She searched his face as she stared back at him. She had always found him handsome, and she still did, but it was not the dark, dangerous ruggedness that the prince possessed. Max was blond, with clear blue eyes, and an open sweet face that made many girls swoon. At one time he had even made her swoon. So much so that Max had been her first and only kiss, before she had met the prince. And then she had known that no matter what feelings she had once possessed for Max, they'd been nothing compared to what she felt for the prince.
And now the prince was gone, lost to her forever. Max was looking at her with the same amount of longing she'd seen in the eyes of the prince. She swallowed the lump in her throat, fighting against the tears that threatened to fall. Unlike the prince though, Max would never leave her alone, he would never betray her or use her like the prince had. Max would love her and never seek to destroy her. He would do everything in his power to keep her safe, to build her up again, and would sacrifice himself over and over for her. Even if the prince could have located her, he never would have come for her. He had a fiancée he had to take care of now, a vampire to build a life with, to have children with. She was nothing but a pitiful human toy to him.
Even knowing all of these things, why did she still love the bastard? Why on earth couldn't she love someone as caring and sweet as Max? Oddly enough, she did love M
ax. She loved him with a fierce sort of protective love, but she wasn't in love with Max and knew in her heart she never would be.
Aria shook her head, trying to deny his words. "Max…"
"It's ok Aria, one day you'll forget him, you'll move on."
"You know about him?" she whispered, unexpected shame flooded her body.
She felt like a traitor and a fool. Her father was the leader of the rebels; her brothers and Max were some of his strongest fighters in the cause, just as she had been before she'd been captured. They had been willing to risk their lives for her, and she…
Well she had given her heart to a vampire, the oldest son in the royal family no less, the heir to the throne. They had been willing to die for her while she had been falling in love with one of their greatest enemies. She thought of the prince as a monster, and because she loved him she had also come to accept the fact that she must be one too.
"I suspected," he murmured. "You can't blame yourself Aria, it was an awful time. Things were warped and wrong in there. It's not your fault that you trusted him. Of course you did, it was frightening, and you became confused. He had a month to manipulate you, to make you think that you could believe in him, that you could love him."
"Oh Max," she breathed, wishing that the explanation was as simple as that, but she knew it wasn't. The prince had not twisted her; he had not used her terror and confusion against her. He had been kind and caring, and he had needed her, she knew that. Though he'd had a fiancée the whole time, at the very least she knew that she'd been a little bit special to him. But she still should have fought against her feelings more, he was her enemy, he would always be her enemy, and they'd never had a chance at a future. She had known all of that, and yet she had still offered him her blood with no reservations, and no fear.