The Vampire King’s Captive

MARIA

I’m not going to take it off, Maria. Forget it.

The words rang over and over in Maria’s head even days after.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it, that little part of her that had thought Bran had been truly changing, unable to come to terms with the fact that he’d actually been able to look her in the face and say those words.

He wasn’t going to take the collar off. He was serious.

She’d known before that Bran was stubborn but with that conversation, he’d unlocked a whole new level of stubbornness entirely.

What person would consciously, in their right mind, pick dying over doing anything they could to help themselves?

Bran, apparently, because that was exactly what he was doing.

Maria had almost freaked out two days ago when the oracle had pointed at her and told her that she was the one that Bran needed. At first she’d been floored, terribly confused, and it wasn’t until the oracle explained that Bran had been hexed by a sorceress, the Queen of Evil, that the words made sense to her.

It had been a bit spooky, she wasn’t going to lie, because for a moment there it had seemed like something out of a fairytale, her being the destined one who could help Bran and such. But then the explanation brought her back to reality, reminding her that it was the furthest thing from a fairytale.

She was the only one who could help him because the deed had been done by a powerful sorceress, as the oracle had said, and only one as powerful as she could undo it. It wasn’t news that Maria was powerful, that hadn’t come as a surprise to her, and sure, there were a lot of powerful sorceresses, some even more powerful than Maria herself, but they wouldn’t help unless they wanted to.

That was the difference between the witches and the Sorceri.NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

Witches demanded a fee for almost everything they did for anyone; the Sorceri did it simply because they wanted to. No matter how high and attractive prize was, the Sorceri could not be lured into doing anything if they didn’t see a reason in doing it.

It went without saying that Bran couldn’t get any of them to help him now-not when all they wanted was his head on a platter-so she was the only one who could help him.

But he wasn’t going to let her because he thought she was going to run if he so much as removed the collar. Like she was some sort of animal.

How fucked up was that?

She thought things had been changing for the better between them. She thought she was no longer his captive. She thought that he liked her-genuinely liked her.

She thought that they were finally moving forward.

All these things, she’d wanted to say to him but she hadn’t been able to because there had been two other people in the room and one of them was his friend-his friend whom she’d accidentally killed his mate, who hated her with a vegeance and didn’t know about the new development between her and Bran and might not approve of it even if he did know.

No, not might. Definitely won’t.

Gods, she’d been so hurt when he’d refused to let her help, to take her collar off. That only meant that he still saw her as a captive and didn’t want her going anywhere.

Well, at least now she knew the answer to her question.

She’d been considering bringing the collar up when next they talked but now she knew what his answer would be.

Bloody infuriatingly stubborn man.

When she’d stepped into the room that day, she’d been shocked to see that his injuries were still very much as fresh as they’d been the day he had them. If possible, they’d gotten worse.

That must be why they had called for the oracle and even before the oracle had confirmed it, Maria had known that there was something wrong.

He’d been in so much pain, he’d tried to hide it but she could still tell. He grimaced everytime he turned and talked, the bandages on his body dotted with blood in several spots.

He wasn’t recovering. He needed her.

And it hurt her so much that he would rather suffer… that he would rather die than let her help him.

There was a knock on her door and she looked up. It was probably Olivia.

“Come in.” She called and hid the sadness she felt, adopting a neutral mask.

The door opened and she was surprised to see that it wasn’t Olivia. It was a guard.

“You’re needed in the living room,” he told her and her heart skipped. “Come with me.”

She got up and hurried after him, wondering what the hell she was needed for.

Had he changed his mind? Was he going to let her help him now?

If he had changed his mind, then good for him; he was going to live. But whatever they had between them was gone.

She didn’t want to call that night a mistake because they’d both been conscious of what they were doing, but in her defense, she’d thought that he was changing and that was why she’d let it happen.

If she had known that he still saw her as his ‘captive sorceress’, she wouldn’t have let it happen.

She wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

The guard pushed the door open for her to enter and when she did, he closed the door. Her lips pursed when he didn’t enter with her.

She made sure that the blank mask was intact before she lifted her head and looked at the occupants of the room-Bran on the bed, Corey on a couch, and two guards standing far from them.

Her eyes swept over Bran and she hated the way her heart clenched when she looked at him. He was lying under the covers again, his skin so pale it appeared almost white, lips blue and eyes completely shut.

A quick dip to his chest confirmed that he was still breathing, although from the looks of things, not for long and the pensiveness around Corey told her that he knew it too.

“We need your help.” Corey gestured to Bran’s still form, his eyes hard but she could see the worry in them.

She couldn’t stop the bitter smile that formed on her lips. “Oh, so after searching for other options and coming up short, he’s finally coming back to me.” She was positive that her expression was just as snarky as her words were. “How honoured I feel.”

Corey ignored her. “Can you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Remove the hex,” he answered. “Can you do it?”

“I believe I can.”

His fingers tapped on the armrest. “That answer doesn’t give one hundred percent. I need to know if you can do it, ’cause if this goes wrong, it goes completely wrong.” His voice was hard, words clipped as they left his lips in rapid-fire succession. “There’s no way to reverse it and I want you to k-”

“I’m going to try my best,” she cut him off, meeting his hard stare with one of her own. “It’s not something that I’ve done before but I’m willing to try to help. It’s not like you have another option, else you we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, so can you stop fucking acting like you do?”

The guards in the room drew in several astonished inhales and Corey’s eyes widened slightly, almost imperceptibly, and if she’d not had her eyes laser focused on his, she would have missed it because he schooled his expression into its usual hard, blank mask.

He said nothing and she didn’t know whether it was because she’d rendered him speechless or if it was because he didn’t want to rile her up anymore.

Or maybe it was because he knew that there were truths in her words.

Either way, she was in a shitty mood and she was not to be messed with.

Suddenly, Corey pushed up from the couch, stretching to his full height which meant he towered over Maria by far, and for a moment there, Maria thought he was finally done reeling in his anger towards her and was finally going act on it by knocking her out-or strangling her to death-but he only walked over to Bran and nudged him softly.

The latter blinked slowly, opening those green eyes that were now dulled with pain.

“It’s time for you to remove the collar,” Corey told him and she watched Bran move his head slowly, searching for her.

Wanting to make it easier for him so that he wouldn’t have to stress himself much-even though she was so bloody angry and almost hated him in that moment-she stepped around to Corey’s side so that he wouldn’t have to look far to see her.

She didn’t try to read the look in his eyes. She didn’t want to.

He lifted his hand and made a gesture for her to come closer, which she did. Yet then he motioned for her to come even closer. This time, she bent her knees until her face was not so far from his battered one and despite the situation, started to remember their kiss.

Forcing it out of her mind, she stared at him stonily.

He put his hand to the side of her neck and she jolted from the contact of his cold clammy skin on hers, but she held still. A few seconds later, she heard a beep and she felt the pressure around her neck give way.

She stood quickly and felt for it, astonished to see that one side had dissapeared completely. Exhilarated, she pulled the remaining side away and brought it up close to examine it, seeing that one side had only retracted in, sort of like a hidden sword.

How did he open it? Was it his finger? W-

She swayed on her feet as a rush of power filled her, her eyes rolling back in her head at the sublime feeling of having them once more.

They caressed her as though telling her that they’d missed her too, and swirled around her body, going every which way and almost lifting her off the ground with their excitement.

She held on to the nearest thing she could find, which surprisingly turned out to be Corey-and she was even more surprised when he didn’t push her away-at least until she wasn’t dizzy anymore.

The last of her powers rushed into her and her world righted, her eyes focusing. She removed her hand from Corey’s strong bicep and muttered an awkward ‘thanks’ to him.

Maria popped her knuckles and prepared to use her powers for the first time since getting them back-on the vampire king.

“You might want to move out of the way,” she warned the man standing next to Bran.

Corey stepped back, giving her a wide berth, but she wasn’t even looking at him. She was focused on Bran who was staring at her through half-opened eyes, reciting the anti-mortality spell in her head.

When she’d gotten it, she stretched her hands, magic swirling around them and recited the spell in her mind, watching as wisps of her powers swirled all around Bran, building, building and building, until it turned into one bright light and exploded on top of him.

Her heart leapt when his eyes flared open, happy that the spell had worked. But then suddenly, his lids slid shut, head lolling to the side and she watched in horror as his breaths slowed to a stop.

Dead.