The Vampire King's Captive

17

BRAN

She blinked, then blinked again. Her eyes were hazy and with the amount of blinking she was doing, it looked like she was trying to clear herself out of a fog.

He shook her hard, repeating the question. "Why has your hand not healed?"

The faster she answered his questions, the earlier he was going to be done with her. The close proximity was already fucking up his brain as it was. He didn't need to spend more time with her than necessary.

"Its been just three days." She shrugged, her eyes falling from his and fixing on his chest. He wondered why she did that. "I don't know how it works here, but in my realm, healing usually takes longer than that."

He ignored her sarcasm. The fact that she still managed to talk back at him even in her situation surprised him, but he was not going to let that show. She obviously had no value for her life.

He had a sinking suspicion about why her hand had not healed. Actually, that suspicion bloomed from a seed Edgar had planted in his heart. That the sorceress was not yet an immortal, although he had not believed it at the time. He'd refused to. But now he was finding it hard to ignore the fact when proof was presented to him in its raw form.

"Immortals heal faster than that." He forced through clenched teeth. "You were supposed to heal in a day. Two days tops if you're not getting enough energy."

She frowned, staring at him now as if he was crazy. "I'm not an immortal yet."

He almost staggered back from the impact of her words.

No, this had to be a joke. This had to be a bloody joke. She had to be lying.

But then a voice whispered in his mind that if she was actually lying, why had her hand not healed? Why was the injury still there on her hand, glaring at him?

Guilt ate at him, but he forced it down. He simply refused to accept that she was a mortal. The great Maria Hatzi a mortal? It wasn't just him; no one would believe it. There was no way she would endanger herself severally the way she did when she was still a mortal.

One blow from her immortal, one backhand from even the youngest of immortals could end her life, and yet she went around without fear?

She had ventured into a realm of vampires and killed their king and queen fully knowing that a stray hit could kill her?

No. There was no way this woman was a mortal.

"Don't lie to me." He shook her again, as if to punctuate his words.

She tried to yank her hand out of his, but he held tight, glaring at her through narrowed eyes and daring her to challenge him, which she didn't disappoint him by doing exactly so. "Let me go."

"Answer my fucking question."

"No. Let me go." She tried to force her hand out of his again and this time, her strength surprised him.

"Not until you answer my fucking question, Princess."

"I already answered your question, asshole. Now let me go." She punctuated the insult with a yank of her hand and, Christ, he couldn't ignore the spark her fire ignited in him anymore.

With a groan, he walked her backwards until her back was pressed firmly against the wall and he was sure that her shoulder blades had to be digging into the concrete painfully, but he didn't care. He was far past caring.

Maybe a tiny bit of him even wanted her to experience the pain too.

Her eyes widened for a moment, before in less than ten seconds, heat filled her eyes and her lids lowered, mirroring his. Hell, she wanted this. He wanted it too. What reason did he have not to give the both of them what they wanted? He could go back to hating her after, but for now, they could have this and get it over with.