The Vampire King’s Captive

BRAN

Her tone told Bran to tread carefully, but then again Bran had never reacted well with being told what to do and that was probably why he stalked forward and gripped her, lifting her from the couch to her feet and planting his lips on hers, swallowing whatever she’d been about to say in a kiss.

She opened her mouth and Bran almost sighed in relief at the welcoming action.

He’d thought that she was going to fight him, that she was going to push him away because of what happened, so he was pleasantly surprised that she was doing the opposite by letting him kiss her.

But she wasn’t kissing him back.

Well, that wasn’t an issue. He would coerce her into the kiss soon enough.

He slid his tongue into her mouth, instantly searching for hers and instead, what he got had him groaning into her mouth, the sound more pain-filled than pleasure-filled.

She brought her teeth down on his tongue. Hard. And he tasted his own blood from the cut.

A slap had his lips disconnecting from hers and a hard shove sent him stumbling backwards a few steps.

What the fuck?

He stared at her in confusion, wondering why she’d gone from wanting him to wanting to murder him in two seconds flat, until he took a good look at her face and the lust clouding his head dulled into the background

He swallowed.

She was angry. Extremely.

“Who the hell do you think you are to come into my room without my permission and kiss me? Also, without my bloody permission.”

He blinked, eyes darting to the side.

What was going on here?

“Bran, King of The Vam-”

“Oh, shut the hell up and get out.” She snapped, then with a huff, dropped back on the couch and stared stonily out the window. “If you’re not going to get out, please step back. You’re standing in my personal space.”

Bran was at a complete loss for words.

Why was she suddenly so hostile to him? Even more hostile than she’d been when they were back at his castle?

He understood that she was angry at him, he’d been able to tell as much when he’d refused to remove her collar, but he’d thought that if he kissed her, showed her how much his body craved hers, she’d forget about it.

She craved his touch. He was willing to give it to her.

That was chivalry at its best.

“What reason do you have to be angry at me?”

Her eyes flickered to him, her face contorting with anger and disbelief. “Are you fucking serious right now?” She shot up off the couch and poked him in the chest. “You think you can casually trace into my room after refusing to take the collar off? After treating me that way in front of everyone?”

So it was about the collar. He didn’t understand why she was making it such a big deal.

“Treating you that way in front of everyone?” He asked, incredulous. “You didn’t seriously expect me to be happy about taking the collar off, did you?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

His brows furrowed. “For the same reason the collar is around your neck in the first place. I don’t want you to run away and I don’t want you to kill any more people than you already have.”

“I already told you that I don’t kill on purpose and you believed me. Didn’t you?” There was that small annoying half smile on her face again. “Or did you just pretend like you did so that I would let you have your way with me?”

Have his way with her?

Bran scoffed and folded his arms across his chest, his pants tightening as he remembered that night, remembered her exquisite taste. “Pretty sure you were the one that got your way that night, but if you need me to refresh your memory, I’m more than happy to.” He gave a dramatic pause, the fire in her eyes making his cock harden even more. “Here’s the orgasm count; You-1, me-zero.”

Liquid fire burned in the grey depths of her eyes and purple flames emanated from her fingers and palm. Literally.

Bran found it so fucking hot for some weird reason.

She stepped away from him, stalking towards the bathroom. “Leave. You fucking disgust me.”

Leaving her right now was the last thing on Bran’s lust-addled mind.

He watched her ass bounce with each step she took, her long hair swaying with her angry movements, the tips brushing the aforementioned ass.Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

He swiped his tongue along his lower lip, the mating instinct in him rising to the surface and telling him to go to her and at the same time, warning him to be careful with her. She was pissed and she had her powers.

That made her extra dangerous.

He followed after her and was just about to step into the bathroom with her when the door slammed in his face.

He glared at the door like it was the cause of his current predicament and stood in front of it with his arms clasped behind him. He was going to wait for her out here.

She would speak to him whether she wanted to or not. She did not have a say in the matter.

The door flew some minutes later and she appeared, her face looking fresher and wet with water. Fuck, but she was a beauty. How was it possible that someone was so beautiful?

Her eyes narrowed with anger when she saw that he was standing there. “You’re still here? What part of leave did you not understand?”

“I understood it perfectly,” he cocked a condescending brow, knowing that it would piss her off even more. “I’m just choosing to ignore you because in case you haven’t realized, you don’t own the fucking building.”

“Well, if you won’t leave, then I will.”

That was a joke if Bran had ever heard one. “You’re not going anywhere.”

A brow arched. “Watch me.” she said breezily and walked past Bran but he stopped her by encircling her wrist with his fingers, pulling her back and flush against him.

His head whipped to the side with another one of her sharp slaps and his grip on her hand loosened.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” she seethed, hands clenched into lit up fists by her sides, eyes narrowed into slits and her nostrils breathing fire.

She was livid. She was gorgeous.

And she was his.

The mating instinct in him howled with pride at being blessed with a mate so fearless and beautiful, while Bran’s jaw tightened with anger, rubbing at the spot where she’d hit him because, damnit, she was one powerful little thing.

“Would you stop fucking hitting me?”

“Not until you stop fucking touching me,” she retorted. “Leave me the hell alone. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

Frustrated, Bran flung his hands in the air. “This doesn’t even make sense. You have no right to be this angry at me.”

This wasn’t what Bran had envisioned when he’d come into her room and honestly, he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t miss her so bloody much and if his mating instincts hadn’t been crying for it.

She shook her head slowly, the movement almost pitying. “You really don’t get it, do you?” It was a rhetorical question because she went on. “You really don’t know what you did.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Alright. I’ll tell you.” She crossed her hands and cocked a hip, drawing Bran’s eyes to that body part and it wasn’t until she cleared her throat that he was able to pull his eyes away. Her irritated look made him scowl. “So, here I was, excited that things were changing between us and thinking of bringing my collar up when next I saw you because silly me thought it just slipped your mind, and then what happens next?” She paused and tapped her lips, pretending like she was thinking. “Right. I walk into a conversation where I’m told that I’m the only one who can help you but only if you take the bloody collar off And. You. Refuse.”

“Of course I fucking refused.” Bran snapped, “What the hell did you think was gonna happen?”

“Well, since I was under the impression that things were changing between us, I expected you to remove the damn collar.”

What the hell did she mean by ‘things were changing between us’?

“Why do you keep saying things were changing between us?”

“Because they were,” Maria cried, spreading her arms out wide. “I told you everything and you admitted you cared about m-”

“Oh for fucks sake Maria,” Bran started pacing, unable to hear her say what she’d just been about to say. He pulled his shirt away from his skin, feeling suddenly hot. “A bunch of words and a kiss doesn’t mean things have changed between us. You should know better.”

He stopped pacing when a long time had passed but she still hadn’t said anything.

Facing her, he was surprised to see her wringing her shaky hands at her stomach. She hid them behind her back.

His heart clenched, jaw tightening. “Maria-”

“I confided in you.” she whispered in a broken voice. “Told you things I’ve never told anyone. You… you told me you came for me and we kissed… we…” she shook her head slowly. “Those things equaled nothing. My words, everything, they’re pointless. Did you even believe me?”

Bran couldn’t answer because his chest had grown so tight, he couldn’t speak and not because he actually didn’t believe her.

Of course he did. He’d seen evidence.

But Maria must have taken his silence to mean he didn’t believe her because she staggered backwards, her eyes widening. She shoved a trembling fist against her mouth and moved her head from side to side slowly. “You didn’t believe me.”

Bran forced his voice to work. “No, Maria. I did.” He lunged forward and made to hold her but she quickly stepped back.

“Leave.”

“Maria-”

“Would you just listen to me?” He tried again, his anger and frustration building at her easy dismissal of him.

“I said leave!” She yelled, still not willing to listen to a word he had to say and his frustration boiled over, patience hitting it’s peak.

“Fucking fine!” He yelled, running a hand through his hair. “You can be mad at me all you want but we both know that’s misplaced anger. It was no one’s fault but yours for thinking that something as insignificant as a kiss could change things so drastically. Open your fucking eyes, Maria, this isn’t a fairytale.”

Tears welled in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. The sight of them started an ache so profound in Bran’s chest, he barely held himself back from rubbing at it.

Her hand lifted, purple light still swirling around it, and she pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out.”

If that was the way she wanted it, then he wasn’t going to try to get her to see reason anymore.

Shoulders up to his haunches, Bran did.