Forced to Buy a Vampire Slave (rewrite) Book #1

Chapter Two

Speaking to my brother over the phone left me in a lighter mood than before. I told him about my predicament with finding myself owning a vampire, and Drake was well aware of my stance on slavery. Drake himself had a vague opinion on it, as he'd never explicitly informed me what he thought, but he seemed to not enjoy partaking in the ownership of vampires. He affirmed that my idea to keep Corey in my room was wisest, because he'd seen people being cruel to vampires for the sake of it plenty times.

I didn't see my parents at lunch, but there was a spread of food set out in the dining hall; platters of fresh fruits, assorted cheeses and cut meats to assemble open face sandwiches with. I fixed myself something to eat, and downed a small cup of coffee before I ventured back to my rooms. When I slipped in through the double doors, I found Corey asleep on the couch, facing away. I had no idea how they treated the vampires in containment at the auction house, but one could assume not well. I imagined he was probably in a very depleted state; only being fed once a week, with blood that was laced with rowan berries to keep him weakened. I may have been marveling at how striking his looks were, but the shadows around his eyes didn't go unnoticed, nor the thin state of his tall frame. And he was certainly tall, at least six foot I would say.

The afternoon was waning outside the castle, and I slipped into the bathroom so I could shower before I began to get ready for my birthday ball this evening. I knew some of the guests were already arriving, ones that would be staying the night here at the castle. Despite attending many royal parties, both my own and others, I had never been too fond of them. Drake detested them, and perhaps his disdain for the social events had rubbed off on me while growing up. Whenever Drake bothered to show up, he usually ended up drunk and making a scene. None of which he would regret the next day. I wasn't one for making scenes, but I did indulge in the plentiful amounts of alcohol that was passed around. It made it a little more bearable.

After my shower, I slipped into a long robe made of black silk, the sleeves embroidered with lace, and stepped back out into my bedroom. Just in time to hear the knock at my door. I crossed over to the doors in my trailing robe, and found my mother's personal shopper and stylist, Marie, who at times acted as my own. But I preferred to do my own shopping, because if I didn't, then my wardrobe would consist of mainly smart skirts and snazzy dresses, which were fine in moderation but I'd rather have a pair of jeans most days.

"Princess," Marie bowed slightly, and I let her inside the room.

"I was told you needed a tux for a guest tonight?" Marie was holding a measuring tape wrapped around her hand.

"Give me a second," I told her, padding barefoot into the carpeted living area.

I found myself a little hesitant at waking Corey up, but I needed to get his measurements so Marie could gather something for him to wear. That is, if he wanted to attend the ball. I supposed it was possible he'd rather stay up here. Either way, I'd also need her to gather a decent wardrobe for him as well.

Slaves were usually given a few sets of the same basic, plain attire that they would rotate. But Corey wasn't my slave. I could pretend that I didn't have a contract sitting in my nightstand that legally bound him to me as property. Hesitating at the couch, I glanced over his sleeping form. Then I reached out a hand to lightly tap him on the shoulder. His reaction wasn't the languid ease of most people when they stirred; it was a quick, tense jolting awake as he pushed himself up from the cushions. His green eyes took me in, muscles coiled with anxiety as he leaned up, the softness of slumber quickly seeped from him.

"Sorry," I murmured, and I took a step back because I don't think my proximity was helping put him at ease. "I just needed to get your measurements."