Bleeding Royalty Book One & Two (First Draft, unfinished)

Chapter 32: How To Start A Rematch, By Valentine Fane

~Why can't I breath? Evil Angel.

~ I final fight I win.

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I woke up to a sting on my left arm, a piercing headache, and a bright light over directly above me.

I felt the surface below me shift, and my body slowly came into a sitting position. I’m in some kind of dentist black dentist chair, with leather bands around my wrists and ankles. A rope is tied around my waist tightly.

 “How are you feeling?” A deep voice questioned.

I groggily rolled my head to the voice, to see a blurry Fang Face sitting right next to me in a metal chair. The only thing I came make out clear is the tattoo needle in his hands. I tried to scream, and sit up, only to realize I have something in my mouth, and I can’t get up. 

I muffled a curse, and tried to lift my head up to bite his nose off.

“Aw can’t reach me sweet heart? What a shame,” he stated blandly, playing with the tip of the needle, “you must be gaining some weight there ‘Chubbers’, the drug surprisingly only lasted a few hours.” I ignored him, and turned the other way. He stood abruptly, up and the metal chair didn’t make a sound on the floor. I’m assuming it’s carpeted.

A gloved hand moved my chin, to face him. His hair is shorter, but long enough to slightly curl around his ears.. Huge sapphire eyes replaced his swollen ones, and his jagged nose is now replaced with a Greek Gods nose. His jaw is well defined, but not skeleton like. Slight stubble is on his chin, replacing the almost beard he had.

Whoa.

He chuckled, “You like? This is what I look like when I’m well fed,” he said, making a kissy face at me. He moved around to the other side of the chair, brushing his hand on my sweatpants covered legs. The hair on the back of his head is slightly curly.

My cheeks started to feel warm, and a slow smile spread on his lips. This has to be the drugs!

“No, I don’t think it is sweet heart. He loosened the leather band on my left arm, and flipped it over.

Oh my God!

On the inside of my wrist are small cursive letters that say Valentine’s. I looked up at him, to see him waiting for a reaction. Steam came out of my ears, and I struggled to get free of the leather bands. “I’m going to put bitch next to it, unless you do everything I say,” he threatened with a serious face, placing a tattoo needle on my lap, “then if you still don’t listen to me, I will cut off each finger on your left hand.” He then placed a serrated knife onto my lap.

My heartbeat thumped in my chest, and sweat formed on my forehead. I blinked at the objects in my lap, and swallowed a lump in my throat.

“There, there my sweet, all you have to do is answer a few questions,” he said gently, now sitting in the metal chair to my right again. He kicked his feet up onto my legs, and crossed his muscled arms over his chest. I tried not to stare at the bulging muscle, “are you going to cooperate?”

I continued to stare at the knife, and two huge fingers snapped in my face, “I’m talking to you.”

I’m ignoring you. I told him simply, not exactly sure if he would hear me.

“Oh I can hear you. Just like I heard you in the bedroom when I was knocked out, and when I was….feeding.”

Emotions surged through me, and I remembered how hurt I was that night. I turned my face away from him, and blinked back tears.