Rose's POV –two weeks later
A slight movement next to me as I lay in bed jolted me from my sleep, and I rolled over with a smile on my face ready to greet my Russian God for the first time that morning. But my smile faded when I realised the person I came face to face with was in fact not Dimitri. I had been dreaming about him, as I often did, and for a small moment I had forgotten where I was. I wasn't lying in bed with the love of my life – I was being held captive in a room by a monster.
"Morning Gorgeous!" Nathan greeted me, brushing my hair out of my face as he gazed down at me.
I narrowed my eyes at him, sitting up quickly and shuffling away from his touch. His smile dropped when I didn't return his greeting, and I was met with a sharp sting as a hand collided with my cheek, punishment for ignoring him.
"Answer when you're spoken to."
I mumbled some sort of response in the form of a grunt, unwilling to give him the gratification of a verbal reply.
"I thought we could have breakfast together this morning? Breakfast in bed, would you like that?"
After ignoring him again, he reached out and ferociously grabbed a fistful of my hair behind my head, pulling in a downward motion, forcing me to look up and meet his harsh stare.
"I just said – you answer me when I speak to you. Haven't you learned yet?" He tugged harder, causing me to wince in pain. "Now, how about breakfast in bed?"
"I guess," I replied through gritted teeth.
Nathan's grin returned and his eyes softened as he released his hold, smoothing my hair down to neaten where it had just been tangled in his fist. "Of course, I won't be eating, but I've asked Oleg to whip you up something nice," he informed me and, as if on cue, the door opened as Oleg hurried into the room.
He made his way over to me and handed me a plate, on which sat a bagel topped with cream cheese and salmon. As usual, something that didn't involve the use of utensils. Nathan was obviously paranoid that I would try something if I had the opportunity to get my hands on a weapon. Huh, what a crazy thought.
"Oleg? Bring my meal down so that Rose and I can have breakfast together," Nathan ordered. Oleg didn't look into his eyes but nodded his acknowledgement of his order before scurrying out of the room to fetch Nathan's 'breakfast'. I could feel a lump form in the back of my throat and my chest became very heavy, knowing what would be walking in through that door.
He never fed from me for more than 3 days in a row, choosing to hunt elsewhere on those days – whether the 'feeders' came to him or he ventured out to look for his next fix. Either way, it was a welcome break, despite the sickening feeling that it was another person losing their life.
"This is sick!" I exclaimed, automatically recoiling back as Nathan spun to glare at me.
"Sick?" He asked. "I'm just having my breakfast, same as you."
"My breakfast doesn't involve me taking someone's life," I stated, hatred clear on my tongue.
Nathan chortled. "You'll see one day. That meagre fact won't even cross your mind once you've tasted blood."
Not two minutes later, Oleg scuttled back into the room, a young human woman with long brown hair trailing behind him. The similarities between our appearances didn't escape my attention. Subtle. The spaced-out look across her face and glaze across her eyes told me that she was here by choice – she craved the bite.
"Ah Clarissa. Good to see you this morning," Nathan greeted her, a sly smile spreading across his lips exposing his fangs as he lurked towards her. Clarissa's eyes lit up when she acknowledged him and returned his grin happily. Taking her hand, he led her towards where I perched on the bed, sitting down in the empty space next to me. I immediately jumped up, long ignoring my own breakfast, backing away from the scene about to take place in front of me.
Narrowing his eyes, Nathan's head snapped to look at me. "What's wrong, Rose? Don't you want to watch?"
"Of course I don't want to watch!" I scoffed. "It's disgusting."
"Oh Rose," he laughed. "You're just jealous because it's not you today," he stated, before pulling the young woman's hair back to expose her neck. I heard her breath hitch as she anticipated the bite, and not two seconds later the sigh of contentment as his sharp points pierced her skin.
I felt bile form in my throat as I watched him slowly drain her, and without a second thought I was across the room in an instant, knocking into Nathan in an attempt to defend this poor woman. It was a feeble attempt, however, and without even pulling away from her neck he struck out effortlessly as though he was just swatting away a fly. With a loud crash I slammed into the wall, crying out in pain at the harsh contact.
I struggled to lift myself up from the floor, and quite frankly I didn't want to if it meant having to watch Nathan take another life in front of my eyes.
A few minutes passed and I could hear her thrashing when she realised he didn't intend to stop. With a final moan from him, I heard her slump lifeless on the bed as he released her. There was a heavy tension in the room as the silence surrounded us, broken only when I heard the bed creak as he stood and footsteps heading in my direction.
Staring at the ground below where I sat on the floor, two shoes came into view as he stopped in front of me. I hesitantly looked up to meet his irate gaze as he wiped the remnants of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Oleg!" Nathan shouted, never taking his dark eyes off mine. Shortly after, the door creaked open behind him and Oleg hurried in, instantly asking what was required of him. "I'm done. Take the girl out of the room and get rid of her," he commanded, still glaring down at me.
Nathan and I stared at each other in silence as Oleg attempted to move the body, weakly dragging her out of the room by her hands. I tried to steady my heavy breaths, not wanting to show my fear to the angry monster standing over me.
When Oleg was out of the room, Nathan crouched down in front of me, gripping my chin tightly in his hand.
"When are you going to get it in your head that you're not going to win?" He growled before I felt the sharp sting of his backhand across my cheek. I clenched my eyes at the pain, refusing to cry out – I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it hurt.
"I'm heading out to hunt. She wasn't quite what I wanted," he informed me. "And you," his grip on my chin tightened, "have pissed me off so much I can't be around you right now. I don't want to do something I'll regret." His angry eyes softened ever so slightly and he turned my head to the side to plant an unwelcome kiss on my cheek, before leaning back on his heels and walking away. Pausing when he reached the door, he turned to look at me once more. "I'll be back in a few hours."
Once I heard the click of the door as he locked it behind him, I scrambled to my feet before frantically scrubbing at my cheek where the feel of his lips lingered. I felt disgusting, as usual. It was a feeling I had become accustomed to in the last two weeks. Each time he fed from me I felt myself longing more and more for his bite, and each time I felt more disgusted with myself for allowing him to hurt me. Believe me, I always resisted, defending myself as much as I could, but it always ended the same – with more and more bruises being painted onto my body. It was a wonder every inch of my skin wasn't purple. And then of course came what usually followed those beatings... a reminder that I was 'his'.
While I found myself craving his bite, I was also constantly longing for those days when he'd forgo using me as his own personal Bloodwhore. Those were the days that Adrian visited. Those days kept me going. Without Adrian, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it together as well as I was. I could feel myself growing weaker as the days went by, losing the will to carry on but, without fail, Adrian would always show up in my dreams to comfort me and remind me who I was. I was Rose Hathaway. Rose Hathaway. The Queen's Guardian. Rose fucking Hathaway, the Novice who killed countless Strigoi before she even graduated.
Why then was I still trapped in this goddamn room? Nathan didn't chain me up anymore when he'd leave, but the damn door was always locked. And he was clever – he didn't exactly give me any opportunities to overpower him, not that I'd be able to in my state, anyway.
Instead, all I had to keep me going were my visits from Adrian and his news from Court. Not that this news was always good - Adrian told me that they were no closer to convincing the Guardians to search for me, but he promised that they weren't giving up. Every minute of the day was spent trying to track me down, and apparently Dimitri was going out of his mind putting all he had into finding me. My heart broke in two when Adrian mentioned him. I barely allowed myself to think about him as I knew I would just break down - I couldn't begin to imagine what he must be feeling.
Adrian told me what happened after the first time he contacted me. He had apparently relayed to them the torment I was being subjected to. Lissa was distraught, breaking down in tears until she was physically sick. Both Eddie and Christian were understandably angry, but Dimitri... he simply sunk to the floor in despair and didn't speak to anyone for hours. He was broken. But when his mind finally came back to his body, he showed a rage that rivalled both Eddie's and Christian's, taking his anger out on the punch bags in the gym until his hands were blistered and bloody.
***
I wasn't sure how much time had passed as I reflected on the last two weeks, but after what felt like a few hours, I heard the lock click in the door and I immediately sat up on edge. The door slowly opened and Oleg scuttled in, thankfully on his own.
"I – I'm just here for the plate," he stammered as he moved to pick up my discarded breakfast that I had left from this morning.
"Oleg? Is Nathan back yet?" I asked, trying to make my tone of voice as natural and unassuming as possible.
"Not yet," he replied before heading to the door again.
"Wait!" I exclaimed, and he halted in his tracks.
I'd had enough. The longer I was trapped here the more I felt like I was losing a part of myself, and thinking of the people at home had shown me that I had to do something. It had been two weeks, and they were no closer to helping me. I had to take it into my own hands, even if it killed me.
"We can get out of here, you just have to help me," I pleaded. It was a repeat of Russia, when I had coerced him to help me escape from Galina's compound. He had refused to leave with me then, and I had a strong feeling he would refuse again this time.
Oleg turned around and frantically shook his head. "No, I – I want to stay."
I sighed. "Okay fine, do what you want but you have to help me at least!"
His eyes widened and he shook his head again, slowly backing in the direction of the door. "No! H-he'll kill me!"
"Oleg, come on, you helped me once, help me again!"
"No," was all he said and he quickly turned to open the door, his hands fumbling as he did so.
Within seconds I had made my decision and I was on him. With a crash, the plate he was holding fell to the floor as I tackled him and we fell to the floor together. I couldn't ignore the ache coursing through my already bruised body and I cried out. Biting back the pain, I struck out.
He's not a good person, I told myself. It doesn't matter that he's just a human, he's helping them.
Oleg struggled beneath my grip but it was clear from the start that he wouldn't win this, even in my weaker state. He tried striking out at me, trying to push me off him, but it was a feeble effort. I dodged his blows, managing to easily land a few of my own before he finally stopped thrashing out. He was unconscious.
I checked for a pulse before pushing myself off him, leaving him lying on the cold floor – he wasn't dead, luckily. It hadn't been my intention to kill, only to subdue.
With a deep breath to collect myself, I ran for the door, pressing my ear against it to check for movement on the other side. If Nathan was back, there was no way I'd escape his wrath if he'd caught me. But I had to get out of here – now.
When I couldn't hear anything, I reached for the doorknob with a shaky hand. It wasn't locked – they only ever locked it from the outside, and I'd stopped Oleg before he'd been able to leave and lock me in again.
This was it. This was my chance.
Carefully, I twisted the handle and tugged, breathing a sigh of relief when the door moved from its catch in the door frame.
Peering around the edge of the door, I found myself looking down a dark and empty corridor.
I was alone.
But more importantly, I was out.