by K Loraine
I tried to pull free of his grasp, but he held me fast, leaning in and running his nose along my throat. “Just a taste,” he whispered, his breath leaving a trail of ice over my skin.
“What?” The word trembled.
I shuddered at the feel of his lips trailing up my throat. “Let go of me.” I hated the fear in my voice, but I had no idea what this man was going to do to me. He was so much taller, broader, stronger than I was. Was he going to rape me? Kill me? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was I needed to get out of here, get away from him.
“I don’t think so, little bird. Did you really think that once I found you, I would let you get away from me? Smelling the way you do, it’s a wonder no one else has taken you.”
What was he talking about? I tried to pull away, but his hold on my arm was like an iron band, immovable. “Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A dark chuckle fell from him, low and dangerous. It would’ve been seductive if I wasn’t so terrified. “Do you really not know?”
I shook my head, the adrenaline coursing through me, making my heart race. “I’m not who you think I am. I promise. I’m nobody.”
Then he lifted my hand and licked my palm where my small wounds were already healing. A shudder left his body and the elevator stopped, doors sliding open to reveal the underground parking garage. “No, little bird, you are exactly who I think you are. I’m not letting you go anywhere. Now.” He gripped my chin with his fingers and tilted my head until my eyes were on his. “Look at me and relax. You will come with me, without a fight, or I will make you, and it won’t be pleasant.”
There was a strange pull from his eyes, it made me weak in the knees and left my head spinning. His lips turned up in the ghost of a smile, and a wicked gleam lit his eyes, but the moment he tried to pull me with him, I snapped out of it. I fought, kicking and screaming and clawing his face with my free hand. I begged for help, for someone to rescue me from him.
He grunted when my knee connected with his groin, but other than that, the man was unaffected by my fight. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
He kept both of his arms around me, holding me tight to his chest as I flailed and screamed, but soon, my breaths were weak and shallow from the pressure of his arms around my chest. Before long, I lost the battle with consciousness, and with my attacker.
“Run.” My mother’s voice echoed in my mind as I woke screaming for her. I shot up in bed, my heart pounding.
“Fuck,” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair. I worked to calm my racing pulse and reminded myself that I was safe. It had been a year. I didn’t need to be afraid, but that wouldn’t stop the nightmares.
When my heart rate slowed enough to wash away the dark chill of anxiety, I took a few measured breaths and rested my head in my hands. I couldn’t be in my room. Why did everything smell so strange? Like moss and dirt, sandalwood and bergamot. Was someone burning incense? I fought the unease that curled in my gut, but as my vision adjusted to the darkened room, absolute terror took hold. These soft sheets weren’t mine. Unfamiliar shapes gave way to an equally unfamiliar space. This was not my bedroom. This was twice the size of my entire apartment. Where the hell was I?
It came back in a rush of surreal memory. The man in the elevator, his mesmerizing eyes and impossible strength. My nail beds ached from my efforts to scratch my assailant. I felt normal, well-rested even, not restrained or drugged. But I’d clearly been kidnapped by the man. Where was he? More importantly, what did he want with me?
Getting to my feet, I padded across the carpet, my skin prickling with apprehension and discomfort. It was quiet enough that even my footsteps on the thick carpet made a sound. Tomb-like, I thought. The only light in the entire room beamed in from the wide window, cool blue moonlight spilling across the floor. I stood at the window, trying to get my bearings, but all I saw was a vast expanse of neatly manicured lawn, gardens, and looming on the edge of those, a tall wall with spikes reaching for the sky, threatening and dangerous. Beyond all that, a thick line of forest. No neighbors. No streetlights. This place was a solitary fortress. But was all of that for keeping someone out, or keeping me inside?
I nearly screamed when the room flooded with warm light. My heart lurched and I turned around, ready to fight for my life. But instead of the man who took me, I found a short, squat woman. Her face reminded me of a kindergarten teacher, kind and soft.
“Ah, I see you’re finally back with us.” Her accent was lightly colored with a French lilt, and she smiled at me as though I were a guest and not a captive. “Something to eat,” she said and it was then I saw the tray she held.
My stomach growled at the thought of food. Hunger should have been the last thing on my mind, but my mouth watered as soon as she lifted the silver cover off the plate and the scent of food filled the room. I didn’t even care what it was they were feeding me. I was ravenous.
Heading straight for the tray, I grabbed a hunk of bread off the plate and tore into it. The delicious sourdough was still warm and between bites, I took gulps of the rich red wine next to my plate. “How long have I been here?” I asked.
“It has been two days since Cashel brought you to us.”
Cashel. So that was his name. “Why?”
She shook her head. “I cannot say.”
“But you know I’m not here of my own volition, don’t you? Surely, you can’t want to help him hold me hostage.”
“Eat.” She refused to meet my gaze, instead bustling around the room, starting the fire, then walking into the adjoining bathroom.
I couldn’t resist the food set before me. I demolished the chicken breast, not giving a single damn if I looked like an animal. When my hunger was finally sated, I looked at the woman, my only link to what was going on here.
She smiled with a confusing blend of pride and annoyance. “Good. Now you need to bathe and prepare yourself to be seen.”
“Seen? By whom?” My skin crawled at the mention of…preparing.
“The King. He will want to inspect his new acquisition.”
King? What the hell was this woman talking about? “This is America, we don’t have kings,” I called into the bathroom.
She didn’t answer me, and frustration rolled through my body.
“What do you mean, the King?” The sound of the water running had me moving toward the bathroom.
“He is our king. The country we are in doesn’t affect that.” She shrugged and poured golden oil into the bathwater, filling the air with the heady scent of roses. Her eyes roamed my body and I saw nothing but disapproval in her gaze. “You will disrobe,” she said. “I will bring you something more appropriate to wear.”
I glanced down at my outfit from the night before. “What? His royal human trafficker doesn’t approve of clubbing clothes?”
Her eyes widened at my sass, then that face I thought looked so kind turned into a vicious expression. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll hold your tongue, girl.” She waved her hand and ordered, “Clothes. Now.”
I didn’t move a muscle. This woman would not get my clothes if I didn’t want her to. “You want them, take them.”
With a huff, she strode across the floor until she stood a mere inch away from me. She looked up, her short stature almost comical in contrast to my height. “As you wish,” she muttered.
Then, her hands turned to blurs of motion, flying so quickly I couldn’t see anything as my clothes were sliced from my body. I stood there naked with my eyes wide as my clothes fluttered to the ground in ribbons. As much as possible, I covered my body with my hands.
“How…how did you do that?” My voice shook, limbs trembling in fear. “My clothes.”
“You have no idea what you are in for at Blackthorne Manor.” She waved her hand in front of me, razor-sharp nails catching the light.
“Did you…did you do that with your fingernails?”
“And I could do much worse if I wished. Now, be a good little pe
t and do as you are told. Bathe, dress, and prepare to meet your King.”
With that, she left, her diminutive frame now more of a contradiction than I thought possible. What were these people?
Blood Captive
Also by K. Loraine
Paranormal Romance
The Blackthorne Vampires
THE BLOOD TRILOGY
Blood Captive
Blood Traitor
Blood Heir
BLACKTHORNE BLOODLINES
Midnight Prince
Midnight Hunger
The Midnight Coven Collaborations
Vampire Brides Series
Forever Claimed (A Blackthorne Vampire Novella)
Vampire Mates Series
Immortal Promise (A Blackthorne Vampire Novella)
Cursed Coven
Wicked Thorne (A Blackthorne Vampire Novella)
Twisted Ever Alpha
Twisted Slumber (A Sleeping Beauty Retelling)
The Watcher Series
Waking the Watcher
Denying the Watcher
Releasing the Watcher
The Siren Coven
Eternal Desire (Shifter reluctant mates)
Cursed Heart (Hate to Lovers)
Broken Sword (MMF menage Arthurian)
Reverse Harem
Their Vampire Princess (A Reverse Harem Romance)
The Shadow Court Harem
Their Shadow Queen
Protecting Their Shadow Queen
Returning Their Shadow Queen
About the Author
Kim writes steamy romances in both the contemporary and paranormal genres.
You’ll find her paranormal romances written under the name K. Loraine and her contemporaries as Kim Loraine. Don’t worry, you’ll get the same level of swoon-worthy heroes, sassy heroines, and an eventual HEA.
When not writing, she’s busy herding cats (raising kids), trying to keep her house sort of clean, and dreaming up ways for fictional couples to meet.
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