Aria remained sitting even after the sound of the lock slid closed with a note of finality that frightened her.
It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, but once she did, she launched to her feet and moved rapidly through the apartment. He'd left her alone, left her to search through things, left her to try and uncover a weapon. Silly, silly vampire, Aria thought as she scoured through the rooms. But the more she searched, the more she realized that perhaps he hadn't been so silly. There was nothing that she could use to defend herself with.
She moved through the library, and then another small sitting room that was obviously his. Hesitating, she stopped at the edge of his bedroom. She knew it was his by the dark, wood framed bed with a deep red blanket, and a mound of pillows. The furniture was masculine, and though she didn't know what a lot of it was, she discovered that it held his clothes. His scent hung heavily in the room and on the clothing. She inhaled deeply, savoring in his scent even as she looked for something to destroy him with.
Yep, she'd officially lost it and she didn't think she'd get it back until she was free of this place.
Turning away from the clothes her gaze lingered on the massive bed. A strange tingling sensation, one that she was unfamiliar with, began to work its way through her belly. It heated her from the inside out as she was suddenly swamped with the longing to see him again, to hear his voice, to breathe in his untamed scent face to face.
Instead of continuing her search, she found herself retreating from the room, and the unfamiliar wave of heat that was spreading through her. She'd never fled from anything in her life, and now she was retreating from a smell and feelings? She hadn't been too afraid to risk becoming a blood slave, but the sight of his room was enough to turn her into a total coward. It was complete insanity, and yet she couldn't stop her feet from insistently moving away.
Her head spun, she couldn't get to her own room fast enough. She leaned against the door, breathing heavily as her body trembled. She was beginning to hate herself, and yet even that emotion wasn't strong enough to outweigh the growing yearning curling through her belly. She didn't know what she was yearning for but she knew it had to do with him, and she didn't like it.
Her fingers were shaking as she forced herself away from the door and back to the task that had sent her into his room in the first place. She had briefly searched the room she'd been given last night, but even so, she went through it again. She'd been exhausted; barely able to stay awake when she'd been brought in here. It was entirely possible she had missed something.
Her attention focused on the antique looking nightstand beside the bed she'd slept on last night. It was far different from the hard floor of the caves and forest she was used to; even the pallets of straw she sometimes slept on had nothing on the softness of that bed. The bed, she decided as she studied the thick mattress and spongy pillows, was almost as good as the shower, but not quite. She tried not to think of her family and their conditions right now as she grabbed the wooden stand and tipped it over. Tried not to think of the hunger and discomfort they were going through as her gaze fell to the legs of the stand.
She knelt before it, and sat back on her heels as she studied the spindly pieces of wood. It wouldn't be the best stake, that much was obvious, but it was better than nothing, and nothing was all that the other rooms had to offer her. Leaning forward, she grabbed hold of one of the legs and snapped it free. The wood was ragged, thin; she would only get one chance to use it before it broke.
She'd only get one chance before he snapped her neck in retaliation anyway.
Although she knew the possibility of escaping was slim, she would have to make sure it was a damn good chance if she had any shot of surviving and making a break for it. It would be a major boost to the resistance if she somehow, miraculously, managed to destroy the prince. She ignored the twisting guilt in her stomach at the thought of destroying Braith. It had no place here.
Rising to her feet, Aria hurried from the room. She grabbed the knife she had been given to cut her meat with, and four books from the library. She made sure to pull the books from different shelves and carefully rearranged the other ones to hide the holes. Retreating back to her room, she used the books to prop the stand back up and made sure that nothing of the books showed from every angle of the room.
Retreating to the bathroom, she leaned over the toilet as she hastily began to sharpen the slender piece of wood with the knife. The toilet was another contraption she was beginning to appreciate, especially now. A sense of urgency began to fill her; she needed to get the knife back before he returned. She didn't think he would notice the missing books, there were so many of them after all, but the knife would most certainly be missed. Shavings fell into the toilet as she carved the end of the wood into a deadly tip. It took several flushes before all the shavings completely disappeared. Raising it, she examined her handy work with an appreciative eye. It wasn't much, she definitely would have preferred her bow and arrows, but if she was given the right opportunity it would work.
She didn't know what she would do if somehow, miraculously, she managed to take down the prince, but that was a problem she would face when it occurred. Until then, she was simply happy to have some sort of weapon. It strengthened her, emboldened her, and gave her a sense of security and confidence she had been lacking since entering the palace.
She stood before the mirror, carefully positioning the stake in between her breasts. The cumbersome undergarments they had heaped on her actually came in handy as she adjusted the dress so that the thin stake was concealed.
Her heart was racing, her eyes wild as she studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had to regain control of herself, but she was terrified of being discovered, terrified of what he would do to her if he somehow found the stake. He'd kill her, she was certain of it, she was also certain that if she didn't make some attempt to escape she'd die anyway. At least, if she were successful, she might be able to help the rebellion by taking down one of the more powerful vampires with her.
She was unsettled by the realization that she was not as pleased by that notion as she felt she should be.
- CHAPTER 6 -
The next few days passed in much the same way. Aria would stash her weapon under her mattress before Maggie arrived in the morning to assist her in dressing. Aria refused Maggie's help with the shower though; she had it figured out now. She even had the razor and shaving part of it mostly down, and didn't slice herself nearly as much as she had in the beginning. She still wasn't any good with the zippers or buttons of the dresses and because of that she was grateful for Maggie's help.
After Maggie left, she would slip the stake back into her dress, reassured by the solid press of it against her flesh as she bided her time and awaited the right opportunity.
The prince sat with her at breakfast every morning, and then disappeared for a few hours during the day. In his absence Aria would wander around aimlessly, growing increasingly anxious and frustrated with her captivity. Around noon another heaping tray of food would be sent up, she would eat it alone, and miserable. The prince would return, talk with her for a little bit, sit with her while she ate dinner, and then retire to his room.
It was the loneliest Aria had ever been, and she had spent many days and nights alone in the woods, or within the caves. But on those occasions she'd always known that she would return to her friends and family, and their joyful, loving company. Now, she knew she had very little hope of that, and that the rest of her days may very well consist of being trapped within these rooms.
It would only be a matter of time before she went crazy from it.
Aria meandered into the library again. She studied the walls of books, her gaze roaming over the thick leather bindings. She often found herself in this room, curious as to what the books contained within their covers, speculating about the stories within them. She moved toward them unhurriedly and trailed her fingers over their spines. The leather was cool, smooth and unyielding beneath her
fingertips. She yearned to know what they said.
Oh, she knew a few words, not many, but enough to be able to decipher plans and most of a message, but even that was not enough to help her with these hard bound mysteries. She could make out most of the titles, but when she opened the covers she found that almost everything inside blurred into gibberish. It frustrated her to have them so close by, mocking her inability to read and understand them fully.
She slipped one of the books free from the others. It was the one that fascinated her most for some reason, the one she repeatedly returned to. She opened it and leisurely flipped through the somewhat yellowed pages as she picked out the words she recognized.
Shaking her head, Aria released a low sigh as she closed the book and slid it back onto the shelf. "Something against Ivanhoe?"
Aria jumped and nearly shrieked as her head snapped up. She hadn't heard the prince enter the apartment, but there he was, leaning against the doorway with his head bowed as he studied her from behind his glasses. She swallowed heavily, not sure how he would react to finding her here, and certainly unsure as to who or what an Ivanhoe was.
"Ivanhoe?" she asked nervously.
He remained unmoving for a moment, his brow creased thoughtfully. "Yes, Sir Walter Scott's tale of Ivanhoe. It's quite entertaining, and something you probably would enjoy as he was a bit of a rebel himself."
Aria couldn't help but smile at the teasing tone in his voice. Though she was lonely, and lost here, she found that his company was oddly comforting. Probably because he was one of the only two people that she had to talk to in this strange, uncertain world. "Oh," Aria glanced back at the novel, glad to finally know what the title of it was. "I see."
He moved away from the door and strolled toward her. Stopping beside her, his arm brushed against hers as he stretched around her to retrieve the book she had just replaced. Aria's heartbeat picked up, her skin prickled and warmed at his nearness. Even as she cursed her traitorous body, her toes curled, and a small sigh escaped her lips.
She still didn't trust him, still despised his kind, but he'd been nothing but pleasant to her over the past few days. The more time she spent here, the more fascinated she became by him. She hated that feeling but couldn't seem to shake it, she thought it must have something to do with the fact that she was trapped here and completely dependent upon him.
Seeming to sense her strange reaction to him, he froze with his arm pressed lightly against her chest as he inhaled deeply. The prince didn't require air to breathe, she knew that. Right now, he was simply inhaling, and seemingly savoring in, her scent. That realization only increased the growing heat of her body. She couldn't look at him as he broke the tension by pulling the book from the shelf and holding it out to her.
"It was one of my favorites when I was younger. I think you will enjoy it."
Aria swallowed heavily as she stared at the fascinating book. Her fingers trembled as she took it from him, unwilling to admit that she didn't know how to read. He already thought her ill mannered, unkempt, and possibly a little backwards. She didn't want him to think that she was stupid too because she most certainly wasn't.
"I'm sure I will," she muttered.
His finger was gentle beneath her chin as he nudged it upward. "Arianna, do you know how to read?" Her gaze darted wildly around; she looked everywhere but at him. She couldn't bring herself meet his gaze as she tried to figure out how to answer. "Arianna?"
She recognized the tone that tinged his voice when he was becoming aggravated with her. It didn't happen often, usually only when she didn't eat as much as he liked her to, or when she tried to get out of having Maggie help her. For the most part he was patient, considerate even, and she found herself liking him almost as much as she hated him for it. Because she was certain that something bad was going to happen, and that he would turn on her. She was convinced that this strange kindness was just a charade to earn her trust before destroying her completely.
"A little," she finally admitted on a whisper. If he laughed at her, if he so much as smirked at her she swore she'd hit him, or stake him, and damn the consequences.
To his credit though, he did neither of those things. His finger momentarily stroked her chin before he released her. "Well we will have to remedy that. Come."
Aria stared after his retreating back before he disappeared from view. Remedy that? What did that mean? Aria followed him back to the sitting room, but he didn't go to the sofa. Instead, he crossed to the seat by the bay window and settled upon it. Aria hesitated, uncertain what to do or say. She folded her hands before her, rocking back on her feet as she watched him intently.
His eyebrows rose over the dark lenses as he patted the seat beside him. "I will not bite you Arianna."
Displeasure filled her as she glared at him, not at all appreciative of his teasing words. She'd never backed down from a challenge before and she wasn't about to start now. She threw her shoulders back and stalked toward him. His hand left the seat beside him, sliding away as she awkwardly settled in next to him. He considered her for a moment more before opening the book and placing it on their laps. Aria looked at the words, her discomfort growing as she stared at them. The words and letters swam before her on the page, blurring together before snapping back into focus; they still made no sense.
"It's ok," he assured her.
She turned toward him, swallowing heavily as trepidation trickled through her. The force of his shaded stare seemed to burn straight into her soul. His hand wrapped smoothly around her wrist causing her to flinch as his touch seared into her skin. Her breath hitched in her chest, her heart fluttered like a caged bird. For a moment she could only stare helplessly at him, confused by the strange sensations and emotions he aroused in her. Why was he toying with her like this? Why was he being so kind when they both knew that in the end he would only destroy her?
Deciding not to fight against it, deciding to play along with his games, she settled back in the seat. Perhaps it was best if he thought she trusted him, that she wasn't waiting for him to rip her throat out at any moment. It could work to her benefit, perhaps even give her the opportunity to escape that she so desperately sought.
He slipped his arm around her waist so he could pull her closer to his side. His skin was cool to the touch, not as warm as hers, but not unpleasant either. She found that she fit perfectly against him and didn't mind the touch of his cooler flesh; in fact, she almost welcomed it against her heated skin. It was a fact that she felt she should hate herself for, but she simply couldn't, it felt too right. She was willing to play the game, but this was so very intimate and cozy. It was something she had never experienced before, and it was unnerving and exciting all at the same time. She was worried that she could be lost within his game, swallowed up and destroyed by it. She didn't know the rules like he did, and she certainly had no experience playing it.
She had to forcefully remind herself that he was a monster, that he was toying with her, and that he was taking joy in her discomfort, even if he didn't appear to be. She tilted her head, her fingers twitched as she studied those dark glasses. Not for the first time she hoped he would take them off so that she could see his eyes, she was desperate to know what color they were. But in the week that she had been here, she had never once seen him without those shades.
For one, heart stopping moment, she thought he was going to kiss her as he leaned forward just a little. Her breath hitched slightly, she wanted to pull away, she wanted to lean closer, instead she found herself as caught up as a fly within a spiders web. And what a web it was she realized as he broke the moment by leaning away from her.
He settled the book more firmly between them. Aria found herself forgetting everything else, even his fingers lingering upon her waist, as she drew her legs up beneath her and focused on the secrets hidden within those pages. She was eager to absorb what he aimed to teach her, and she'd been speculating about the contents of this book for nearly a week now.
Leaning against his side
she followed along as he leisurely began to read through the novel, pronouncing each word carefully as he urged her to sound out the words with him. She was surprised by the smile on his face; it was rare to see such a thing on him. He was always somewhat reserved and perfunctory, but he seemed to be enjoying the book nearly as much as she was. Aria took great pleasure in his smile, and interjected at times with the few words she knew. She found herself smiling with him as he taught her to read with an endless patience she was troubled to realize she found endearing.
- CHAPTER 7 -
Braith observed Arianna as she sat on the window seat. Her long legs were curled up beneath her; her dark hair was aglow in the daylight filtering through the windows. Though the book was in her lap, she wasn't looking at it. Instead, her hands were pressed against the glass, her nose nearly touching the pane as she stared outside.
It was only then that he realized what these past two weeks must have truly been like for her. She was used to being free, used to running wild and being outdoors. This was probably the most time she had ever spent indoors, probably the most time she had ever spent with a roof over her head and a steady supply of food on her plate.
Food, which he was pleased to notice, that was already putting weight on her. It was rounding out her pointed edges; her collarbone didn't stick out as much, her ribs and spine weren't as clearly visible beneath the dresses she wore anymore. Her face had filled out and her cheekbones were not so sharp anymore. She appeared even more youthful now, something he wasn't entirely sure was a good thing. There was an innocence that clung to her, radiating from the inside out, but when she had been thinner she had appeared worldlier, slightly harsher. He'd found it a little easier to be indifferent to her then, but not so much now, especially when she was staring out the window with that look on her face.
He moved slowly toward her, touching her shoulder lightly. She tensed briefly, but didn't jump away from him, didn't recoil or stiffen as she had when she'd first arrived here. Her doe eyes were brilliantly blue as she questioningly stared up at him.