Saraphine stirred awake, her eyes slowly fluttering open, and her mind flooded with confusion and pain.
The first thing she noticed was the scent of something unfamiliar, manly, yet oddly pleasant. More pleasant when compared to the smell of old rusted iron rods smeared with blood and sweat, that emanated from the dungeon she was locked in.
The mattress beneath her was soft, impossibly so. Softer than anything she had known in years. Not since....
The memory of her parents flashed briefly in her mind, and she pushed it aside, not willing to let the grief drown her again.
Her eyes adjusted to the room, blinking against the dim light. The room was dark, a little too dark for that time of the day, all thanks to the heavy curtains drawn tight to keep the daylight away. But yet a single sliver of light fought its way through a crack, stubbornly illuminating the shadows.
Everything here was dark, dark wood, dark walls, the bedposts towering over her like ancient trees. It felt like a place meant to suffocate the sun, a place built for creatures of the night.
Where was she?
She wondered, still trying to piece everything together.
Her heart began to race as the fog of sleep cleared, making way for the memories of the events that took place in the last few days to come rushing in. The dungeon, the cold stone floor, the chains that had bound her, it was all gone. In its place was this unfamiliar softness, the sheets cool against her skin, her body wrapped in a comfort she hadn't known in ages. But that didn't ease the fear creeping up her spine. She knew she wasn't free. The collar of captivity still weighed heavily around her neck, even if it wasn't visible.
Saraphine sat up slowly, feeling the room tilt for a moment as her head spinned. The dizziness making her grip the edge of the bed for balance, only to catch a grip of something cold, but soft. Her vision was still a little blurry, like she had just woken from a fevered dream, but as she tried to look at the direction of what she just touched, she met two worried eyes looking at her. It was Lucian, She pressed her fingers to her temples, steadying herself, and trying to hide how terrified his presence suddenly made her feel.
"Easy"
his soft voice came in. Almost too soft for the monster that he is Seraphine thought to herself. He had left her to die for days and now he's here pretending to care?
"What a psycho"
She muttered underneath her breath hoping he didn't hear her. The last thing she wanted was to awaken the sleeping monster inside of him.
"What happened? How did I get here?"
She asked, looking at him, not knowing if he'd give an answer.
I'm so sorry for what I've done."
Lucian said taking her hand, while gazing intently into her eyes. Her gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, he thought he saw a tinge of understanding, perhaps even forgiveness in her eyes. But then her expression hardened, the reality of her situation flooding back.
"You left me there to die!!!*
she yelled admist tears, pain lacing her words.
"I never intended to" he admitted,
"I got caught up in my own world. I should have checked on you sooner. I promise, I'II make it right.!"
She looked away, as more tears welled up in her eyes.
"Make it right?" she echoed bitterly.
She couldn't believe him. If he really wanted to make it right he'll let her go.
"I'm not a pet to be trained, Lucian. I'm a person."
She found herself saying with so much anger, as she pushed his hand off hers in an attempt to get out of his bed. But Immidiately she got up, her vision became even more blurry, the room spined around her, her legs gave way as her frail body came crashing onto the floor with a thud, and eyes fluttered shut.
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Saraphine awoke again, to the dark room filled with Lucian's manly scent, wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of his duvet.
Feeling a little better this time, than the first time she woke. She swinged her legs over the edge of the bed, standing to her feet although still a little shaky. Her body felt weak, drained, but not broken. She tiptoed across the room, her bare feet making no sound against the cool wooden floor. Every step was cautious, as though she expected something or someone to pounce at any moment.
As she approached the heavy wooden door, a faint sound reached her ears. Laughter. Light but unfamiliar, coming from a place beyond the closed door before her. And then, low voices, speaking in hushed tones.
Saraphine pressed her ear to the door, her breath shallow as she listened.
"There's no mistaking," one voice said in a sharp tone.
"I can smell it the blood of a human. Rushing, fresh. Here, in your home."
"And not just any kind of human, she's the pure blood type, the smell of her innocence is so strong, I must have her." A second voice cut in almost immediately after the first.
Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. They were talking about her. Did he invite this men over so they could all take turns in sucking her blood dry? She swallowed hard while covering her mouth and nose with her hands, as though that'll stop the vampires from detecting her presence around the house.
She dared to peek through the barely open crack in the door, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her vision adjusted just enough to make out the figures standing in the hall beyond the door. Two men, both tall and lean, their predatory grins terrified the living daylight out of her. Their eyes gleamed in excitement, fangs peeking out as they exchanged knowing glances.
And then, there was him.
Lucian stood a few feet away from them, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. His voice, cold and authoritative, making her wonder how he managed to put up the soft voice and guilty face facade the other night.
"You're mistaken," he said, his tone composed, giving away no emotion.
"There's no human here. My affairs are not yours to question."
Saraphine's breath hitched. His voice it was as stern and unforgiving as ever, yet there was something in the way he spoke that sent a different kind of shiver down her spine. He was defending her. Lying for her. Was this his way of making things right?
The other two vampires weren't so easily convinced.
"Lucian," one of them called, with a voice dripping with suspicion.
"we're not blind. Or deaf, for that matter. We can hear it. The heartbeat. Faint, but there." He leaned in closer, sniffing the air.
"You can't hide her from us."
Saraphine's hand flew to her chest, as she tried to calm the racing pulse that might give her away, and in the process she knocked down a figurine alerting the men that there was a prying eye watching from afar.
Lucian's head snapped towards the direction of the sound, while Seraphine ran back to the bed to lay as though she was still unconscious, maybe that'll buy her some time before she becomes food to these bloody vampires.