The Vampire King’s Captive

BRAN

One look at the man’s face and Edgar already knew what had happened.

It was so easy to guess.

Maria’s previous form had been striking, but she had not been beautiful, nor had she been she attractive. With her new form however, all a man had to do was look at her and he would get hard as a pike. And that was exactly why Bran had put Edgar in charge of delivering her meals or pretty much anything that had to do with her. Not only was Edgar the most controlled man Bran had ever met, he would also a good man. He would never touch a woman without her consent.

That goodness was exactly what had carried Edgar into the throne room, pulling him back away from his uncle, whom he had been just a few seconds away from killing.

When the rage had evaporated and he could think clearly, Bran grudgingly admitted to himself that he was grateful Edgar had stopped him. He already had enough on his plate. Adding the death of his uncle by his hands on top of all that might just push him over the edge and right into the ever welcome hands of madness.

But still, Edgar abandoning his duty because he wanted to stop Bran from killing his uncle had lead to Maria almost escaping-and being raped. Somehow, out of the two things that almost happened, that was the one that ate at him the most.

Probably because he couldn’t stomach the idea of a woman being raped. Her, specifically, didn’t have anything to do with it.

She didn’t.

That was what he told himself as he assembled his men in front of him-each and everyone in the castle, except for the ones stationed outside-with the man who had attempted to touch Maria, standing off to the side, two guards behind him, preventing him from running away if he even thought about it.

With a flick of his hand, he ordered the men to bring the man forward. They dragged him until he was standing in front of Bran then they stepped back. The man’s head lowered in shame and fear and Bran could see quite clearly that he was shaking. Terribly. He would have laughed if he was in the mood.

Apparently, he needed to have a few words with the general, as well, if he planned on recruiting more spineless men like this one.

“Look at me.” Bran ordered and it seemed to take an eternity before the man lifted his head, his face contorted in pain. “What was your motive-down in the cells?” When the man didn’t speak, Bran said, “I’m assuming you know better than to make me repeat myself.”

The man swallowed visibly, “I-I-I just wanted to drop the food, that was all.” His eyes darted as if he was searching for a means of escape. “I didn’t know… I never wanted… but she-”

“You were going to rape her.” The words cut through the air, sharp and final and the truth of them started an onslaught of emotions within him, swirling upwards and growing bigger with every second that passed until it felt like he couldn’t keep them inside him anymore.

Until it felt like he was going to die if he didn’t kill the man this very minute.

“Weren’t you?” Bran pressed, taking a step closer to the man.

He shrank back and if it was possible that he could disappear, he would. “No! No, I was just going to cop a feel. Maybe kiss her, that-”

“You were going to rape her. Admit it.” Bran’s voice was measures, controlled and to anybody watching him, they probably wouldn’t know that he was boiling. That he was livid with anger.

“No. I-”

A backhand had the man flying backwards on the ground. Bran didnt have to look to know that the man was bleeding. He wore a ring on his right hand and his slaps always ended in a missing tooth or tear on the cheek.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Yes!” The man screamed, smartly realising that the slap had been a correction. “Yes, I wanted to rape her.”

“Good.” The air in the room had changed. It was so tense it could be cut with a knife and charged with the promise of danger. The promise of death. “Come here.” The man hurried over to him on his knees until he was kneeling before him. “Extend your hand, your fingers out straight.”

The man threw himself at Bran’s feet, daring to hold him at his ankles. “Please, Your Highness! It will not happen again!”

Two guards rushed forward and grabbed the man, pushing him flat on the ground until he was lying down on it and his hands were stretched out in front of him. He struggled, fighting against the men even when he knew that there was no way he was going to pull free. His voice rose with his struggles and he tried to pull his hand back underneath him.

“You were asked to deliver food. Nothing else. But then you saw her and thought that you could take advantage of her and get away with it?” Bran asked in barely controlled rage. He walked around and then bent until he was holding the man’s eyes. “I want you to remember this the next time you decide to touch a woman without her consent.” A cruel smile touched Bran’s lips. “Except that you wouldn’t be able to.”

Rising, Bran walked around until he was standing directly in front of the man’s outstretched hands, pinned down by the two men just above his elbows. Then as if he was simply walking down a lane, he walked on the man’s fingers, stepping on them and spending as much time as possible to ensure that the bones snapped under his his boots.

The sharp, blood-curdling cries of the man were not as satisfying as he had thought they would be.

When he was done, he ordered the men to drag the man away and make sure that they killed him. If possible, the anger he felt was now doubled. Killing that man wasn’t enough. Killing him didn’t mean that there weren’t a ton of men that would consider doing the same thing he’d wanted to do.

He knew her body, knew how it affected a man, knew how it caused lust to override their sense of reasoning until the only thing they could think about was taking what they wanted. Even if she didn’t want it back.

The only difference was that it had not been the same with him. She’d wanted him back. He saw it in her eyes.

He turned to his men. “I’d assumed you all knew better than to attempt to take advantage of my prisoner, but apparently, I was wrong.” He started, already pacing without even knowing that he was doing it. “What happened to the man was barely a tip of the iceberg compared to what would happen to anyone who tries something like that.” He seethed, “You follow my rules. My rules! You don’t do anything unless I tell you to. Going against me is to court death. Am I making myself clear?”

A chorus of ”Yes, Your Highness’ ran across the room. That, along with the fear and wariness in the men’s faces was enough to tell him that they were actually listening to him.

“Be more vigilant at your jobs because somehow, she got to the backdoor without any guard interfering. How was that even possible?” The men kept shut. “Answer me!”

His general stepped forward. “There are more guards stationed outside than inside, Your Majesty.”

“Station more inside.” He snapped. “Do you know what it would have cost me had she escaped?! You would all have paid with your lives!”

“I apologise, Your Majesty.”

“Your apology is worthless to me. Do better.” Bran looked away, dismissing them. “You’re dismissed.”

Bran stormed out of the room, heading for his wing. He was so angry and so out of sorts and frankly, he was hungry. It had been a very very long day and all he could think about was eating and sleeping.

Edgar had escorted his uncle out of the castle and made sure that he left completely so that Bran wouldn’t have to deal with him. That was over an hour ago.

He shrugged off his jacket as he headed towards his room. AS he pushed the door open, he took note of the fact that the room was clean. The maids had been in here.

He made a beeline for the fridge and opened it, producing a fresh bad of blood and emptying the contents of it in two glasses. He downed the whole thing in five gulps before walking towards his bed, unlacing his boots and shoving them off on autopilot.

With his shoes successfully off, he stretched out on the bed in only his trousers and passed out.