366 Days a Captive

Punitive Promises of Protection or Pacts Performed Perfectly

Chapter Nine – Punitive Promises of Protection or Pacts Performed Perfectly

When Jim returned that evening to his quarters, he did not expect to be met with a fist to the face. Stumbling backwards into the hallway, he was too slow to react as she hauled him into his quarters, only to backhand him almost casually.

May's eyes were red with crying, and as Jim felt his muscles freeze and his body bend to her whims, he felt the first real tendril of fear he'd ever had towards a human. He waited for the tirade, for the explosion of words, the expression of the fury he knew was almost always simmering below the surface.

She merely looked at him with wide eyes, hurt and pain writ large on her expressive face.

A part of him melted at that look, knowing that he was its cause, no matter his intentions.

But then her expression hardened and she stepped forward, uncomfortably close and most definitely in his personal space.

"If you ever do that to me again," she hissed, fury evident in all the lines of her body, " I will remove all the mucus from your body. You will be a desiccated husk, and it will not be pretty." She stepped back, slapping him again as almost an afterthought, the sting of her fingers echoing and reverberating across his skin.

Jim felt his own anger flare and without meaning to the vines in his room leapt to his command, ensnaring the human girl before she could get very far. He strode towards her, watching as she struggled in frustration and called him every name she could think of and some he believed she had invented just for him.

"Listen here Miss Bloodstone, and listen well." His tone was calm, although his insides were alternately seething and roiling with what he was about to do. " You are my prisoner, and, need I not remind you that, despite your ridiculous attempts to escape I have been kind, generous even. I have provided you with shelter, clothing, and all of the gifts that your well-intentioned but naïve friends have sent you. I have bargained with a fae queen for your well-being and attempted to protect you from those who wish you nothing but ill. Do not touch me again."

"Or what? You'll stop 'protecting' me?" Her hair caught up in the vines, maroon and gold eyes sparking, Jim almost found himself admiring the savage beauty of the moment, wishing that this bold spirit hadn't been doomed to life in the castle.

"You don't understand, do you?" he chuckled mirthlessly. " You have no power here, Miss Bloodstone. You are merely another human, foolish enough to be ensnared by us." He steeled himself, and stepped up to her. "And to prove it to you, to prove how powerless you really are and the costs I will go to protect you, I'm going to mark you."

"Mark me?!" her indignation was expected as Jim swiftly assessed her, wondering where he could put the symbol. Some vague part of him was wondering what the magic would coalesce as, while a quiet voice in his head insulted him, letting him know just what kind of a coward tied a girl down and marked her as chattel.

"It's a simple process, and it will prevent others from touching you."

May felt a shiver ripple through her at that and struggled harder against the plants, wondering if shouting for Nathaniel would get her out of the situation. But he couldn't protect her forever, and, as she looked into Jim's eyes, she saw a determination that was unquenchable. Her stomach sank and she stopped struggling, acquiescing to his demands.

"My arm. Put it there."

Jim nodded, noting that she had stopped moving, and cautiously offered his one concession to the situations discomfort.

"If you promise to sit still, I'll remove the vines."

She inclined her head and sank to the ground when devoid of the support. Jim knelt next to her, staring at the space that the magic would touch.