The Vampire King’s Captive

BRAN

Her father could go to hell. Bran would kill him and find another way to get his sister back.

He would do anything-but he would not let Maria go.

He turned away from the bed to trace away when a small hand latched onto his leg, staying him. He looked down at Maria and saw that she was kneeling at the edge of the bed.

“I’ll go with you.”

Even at a time like this, he almost scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

“Why? You said you’re going to check, right?” Her tone was desperate, her fingers digging into his legs. “I’ll go with you. We’ll check together.”

“It could be something dangerous, princess.” he tried to explain to her. He was more than happy to know that she cared about him, but she would not be able to change his mind. “I’m not letting you get hurt.”

She stared at him we though he had grown an extra head. “Do you forget I have my powers now?”

He had, actually.

Still.

“Will you just stay here? I can’t risk you getting hurt.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended. Letting out a sigh, he made efforts to calm himself. “Promise me you’ll stay.”

Biting down on her lower lip, she nodded once. And even though Bran didn’t fully trust that nod, he would take it.

He traced out of the room to the guards standing just outside the door on either sides. “No matter what happens, make sure she doesn’t leave this room. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they chorused and Bran, satisfied with their response, traced to the armoury, collected his usual weapons-swords and daggers-then traced to the grounds.

It would have been much more preferable if it wasn’t just Ariti and the sorceress wreaking havoc on the castle and if it had been a greater number of people. At least that way, Bran would have had a lot of people to kill, to let out the anger inside him somehow.

“Do you never get tired, Ariti?” Bran asked from his position not that far away from Ariti, watching his men move in on him slowly, preparing to tackle him even though they were obviously scared.

“Tired?” Ariti smiled as though they were two friends merely having a discussion. “Never. Not when the reward is so sweet. You can testify to that, can’t you?”

Liquid rage burned in Bran, infecting his bloody and traveling to all parts of him until it was the only thing he could feel. Until he was breathing fire through nostrils.

The men tackled Ariti, landing punches at him from different sides and trying to get him with their swords. At the same time, Bran aimed for the sorceress, sending a dagger sinking into her leg.

She moved like smoke, whirling in a flash. “You again!”

Then she moved into him like a frieght train, sending Bran smacking into the wall of his castle. She didn’t leave him still, no, she lifted him by her hold on his neck and squeezed until Bran couldn’t get air into his lungs anymore.

Her eyes were narrowed, angry. “Today, you die.”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

Despite her hold on Bran’s neck, he forced out the words, “No. Today, you die.” Then he felt for one of the daggers in his jeans pockets and drove it deep into her shoulder.

Her hand slipped from him as she stumbled back, screaming in pain. Bran reached for his sword quickly and sliced her hand clean off. That elicited another pained cry from her, but before his very surprised eyes, he watched the arm grow back and out in less than ten seconds.

“What the fuck?” He breathed, disbelief making his words come out light and barely audible.

Her teeth showed in something too shark-like to be called a smile. “You don’t know what you mess with, child.”

In a flash, she backhanded him, sending him skidding against the ground and his skin peeling in the process. He coughed from the impact of his back slamming into the ground and when Bran could see again, he saw the sorceresss drawing her hand back, her hand aglow with light.

“Leave him,” Ariti shouted from somewhere behind Bran and when he could maneuver enough to spot him, Bran saw that the three men that had been fighting him, were all dead.

Bran forced himself up and leaned back on his elbows.

“The vampire king is mine.” Ariti drew closer to him and his smarmy face, the disgusting smile on his face, the sight of Maria’s grey eyes in his evil face, pissed Bran off all over again and the anger filled him with strength.

He traced to Ariti and lifted his sword to strike when suddenly, he couldn’t move his hands. He frowned, looked down and was beyond puzzled to see a thick chain winding around his body.

He tried to move his hands but he couldn’t. He even tried to move his legs but his limbs were pressed to his body by the chain and they wouldn’t budge.

What the hell?

The chain was a feather compared to what Bran could move. He could lift cars, motorcycles, and once, he’d moved a train. So why couldn’t he get out of the chain?

“Surprised, aren’t you?” Ariti asked him and Bran looked up, seeing the pleased smile the man’s face. “They’re hexed. You can’t get out of them until the Queen here gets you out of them herself.”

Bran turned quickly to the so called ‘Queen’ and narrowed his eyes at her. “Get this fucking thing off me.”

She simply blew on her fingers, extinguishing the light dancing there.

A sharp cry rent the air just then. From the sounds of it, it had come from inside the castle, and Bran recognized the voice instantly. Maria.

Fear made Bran froze even more than the chains had, and his entire being trembled with the urge to get to her. To make sure that she was safe.

The mating instincts told him that his mate was in danger, that she would be hurt and he needed to save her. But he couldn’t move out of the chains. He just couldn’t move out of the damn thing.

“Ah. My men have found Maria.” Ariti smirked, rubbing his palms together. “Let’s take this inside, shall we? We wouldn’t want the people knowing what’s happening in the castle, I’m sure.”

Bran’s sword clattered to the ground as he was lifted into air, floating along with Ariti and the sorceress as they entered his house like they fucking owned it.