The Vampire King’s Captive

BRAN

“Does she do that a lot?”

“It’s not the first time.”

“So she does that to avoid being held accountable for her actions.”

“She’s not doing it on purpose,” Bran snapped without really meaning to, then cursed and threw the shot of blood into the back of his throat. Swivelling on his feet, he turned around and faced an equally pissed Corey. Ignoring the confused look the man threw at him, he went on. “She fell ill recently and she’s been blinking out a lot. She’s still not fully healed yet, and all through the journey, she didn’t eat anything. I assume that’s why she passed out.”This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Corey still watched me with that confused line between his brows, eyes narrowed. “How long was the journey?”

“Three days,” Bran stalked over to one of the chairs and dropped down on it, draping his hands on the armrest and steeping his fingers in, fighting the urge to check on the sorceress just to make sure that she was okay.

He didn’t have to.

The house had countless maids and one of them had been put in charge of catering to her every needs. As long as Corey had ordered it, she was fine. He had absolutely nothing to worry about.

And yet he did. He did worry.

And it pissed the absolute fuck out of him.

“She’s supposed to be able to go a week without food.” Corey stepped forward and dropped on the couch in front of Bran. “That’s definitely an act she’s putting up on purpose.”

Here came the shocking part.

“She’s a mortal.”

There was silence. A very long silence that had Bran staring at Corey, wondering if he had heard him in the first place. The blank look on the other man’s face confirmed that he’d actually heard Bran.

Eventually, Corey’s brows rose, the look on his face one of utmost doubt. “Are you joking?”

“I wish I was,” Bran muttered bitterly, torn between being pissed at his friend and wanting to reunite completely with the man he hadn’t seen in such a long time.

Corey should have been more careful with her. Actually, he hadn’t done anything to Maria-he hadn’t even touched her. But he’d been about to, and if Maria hadn’t passed out, probably from the look of rage on Corey’s face, Bran was positive that Corey would have hit her.

And that, again, pissed him the hell off. He found himself fighting the urge to give his childhood friend a good shiner.

But then again, Bran was a hypocrite to blame Corey for not being careful with Maria. He was the furthest thing from careful when he was with her and he’d done even worse things to her. He’d given her a scar for fuck’s sake-a scar that still haunted him when he thought about it.

Plus, he strongly believed that the weakness from the hunger of the past few days had contributed to her passing out. The malice on Corey’s face had probably triggered her and she’d chosen that moment to pass out. So he really shouldn’t blame his friend.

He really shouldn’t.

And yet he found it hard to hold the man’s eyes without wanting to punch him.

“You’re saying that she’s a mortal?” Corey asked, still doubtful.

“Yes,” Bran gritted out.

The look on his friends face transformed from one of utmost doubt to an amused one. He leaned back in his chair and draped an arm over the back of the chair. “If you’re saying that the girl in my guest room is a mortal, then yes, I agree. A pretty one, in fact.” Bran barely held himself from giving him that punch. “But if you’re saying that Maria Hatzi, evil sorceress and daughter of Ariti, is a mortal, then I’d have to disagree with you.”

Well, Bran couldn’t blame him, could he?

He’d reacted the same way when he’d found out that the sorceress was an immortal. He’d refused to believe Edgar when the man had suspected it, but after being faced with physical evidence, Bran had been left with no choice but to believe her.

And if that was what Corey was going to need to believe that she was mortal, then he was going to show it to him.

“She is mortal,” Bran told him, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. “And there’s a scar on her wrist to prove it.” Before Corey could ask about the scar, he explained. “I had one of my men threaten her by cutting her writs off with a blade in hopes that she was going to divulge the truth of my sister’s whereabouts, and the blade cut into her skin. It healed a week later, but the scar remained.”

Corey’s brows climbed so high on his head, they reached his hairline. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“I didn’t ask her age, but I doubt she’s over twenty-two. She looks very young.”

“If that’s true-”

“It is true.” Bran cut in.

“I know, but… fuck.” Corey shook his head hard, his eyes clouded and lips turned downward. “If that’s true, then she had to have started killing at a very young age-maybe even as young as we were when we started real training” Corey shook his head again, completely flabbergasted. “But it doesn’t make sense. How can she risk her life like that when she’s still mortal? She could die at any minute in a battle field.”

“I know.”

“If that’s true, then it’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

“It is true.” Bran snapped, barely able to keep a lid on his anger. “You think I’d lie to you?”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Corey assured him, the words coming out slow as he studied Bran with a calculative look. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Thinking that he would be able to tell what had Bran in such a bad mood and then read far more into it than there actually was, Bran shrugged and said nothing, pushing up from the couch and walking over to the goblet filled with blood and pouring himself another glass.

“You’ve been acting on edge ever since you arrived.” Corey continued. “I know somethings wrong.”

“Theres nothing wrong.”

“Well then,” Corey agreed easily, changing the topic, which Bran thought was strange and incredibly suspicious until he spoke again. “Care to fill me in on what’s been happening? Cause I have some questions that I’d like to be answered.”

Turning to face him, Bran leaned against the table. “Shoot.”

He was too restless to sit still.

He needed to see the sorceress with his own eyes and make sure that she as okay, but walking out on a conversation with his best friend simply because he wanted to see her, would raise so many questions that Bran wasn’t sure he’d be able to produce the answer to.

Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he wanted to see her. He just knew that he did.

“One,” Corey levelled hard brown eyes that had seen more darkness than light on Bran. “Why does she look like that? From what I remember of her, she was a tall red-head. Almost as tall as we are.”

Bran had met that version of her too, and he’d initially thought that it was her.

Except that it wasn’t.

According to what the oracle had told him, sorceresses and witches could weave glamour over theirselves to change their appearances, expressions, and even their surroundings. And that was exactly what Maria had done.

It was sick.

When he explained this to Corey, the man was just as spooked as Bran had been when he’d found out.

“That’s a whole other level of witchcraft,” Corey’s natural frown deepened. “Why would she even do that?”

“Hell if I know.”

The man gave his head a hard shake. “Second question, have you made any progress with her?”

Ashamed, Bran shook his head. “None whatsoever. She claims she doesn’t know where myself sister is despite all my threats and even tortures. I’m starting to think maybe she really doesn’t know.”

“That’s bullshit,” Corey spat. “She has to know. She captured her right after killing your parents. She had to have taken her somewhere unless your sister magically disappeared.”

Bran froze with his glass halfway to his mouth.

What if his sister had actually disappeared? Disappeared as in traced away from her?

What if the sorceress really didn’t know where his sister was?

A feeling of disappointment washed over him when he realised that if his sister had actually traced away from Maria, then she would have come back to the castle. Even if not soon, but eventually.

“Doubt that,” Bran forced out through a suddenly dry throat.

With shaking hands, he lifted the glass to his mouth and took another long gulp of blood before meeting his friend’s dark eyes.

“What’s the next step, Bran?”

Suddenly weak at the realisation that he still hadn’t made any progress whatsoever with Maria and that that his kingdom-and castle-had been attacked for nothing, Bran repeated his words from earlier. “Hell if I know.”