It's been so long, I simply cannot think of anything to say! Gosh, I hope you all enjoy this. I know a few of you have been waiting since Spellbound finished over a year ago, for Edward's POV and I sincerely hope he does not disappoint.
Edward, in this Fic, is tortured, and I think I've captured it well. He certainly made me fall in love with this particular Vampward, all over again.
Thank you to my beta Tanya aka Acrosstheskyinstars. She is my lifeline both in and out of the world of fanfiction.
Also, a huge shout out to all the gals and guys in FanFicAholics Anon over at Facebook. This group are my bestest friends, ever. This chapter, is for all of you x
Disclaimer: Twilight, and all the characters, are the property of Stephenie Meyer. Sorry the disclaimer isn't very imaginative, but I used all that up in the chapter *winks*
Ch1 Sexual Favours
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the echoes in my mind. There weren't many people occupying the cells close to mine, but lately their silent hysteria had become less desperate and more accepting. I still prayed for the frequency of their thoughts to decrease, if not cease altogether.
The black behind my lids comforted me. It was the colour of my soul. It was the trademark for demons, after all, and I, despite my desire to be otherwise, was as demonic and black hearted as the worst of them. I was a monster; pure and simple.
I licked my lips and tasted the sweet, honeyed saturation of venom. It was my only sustenance as of recent, and to my parched mouth, it was amber nectar. I ignored the burn that usually followed the secretion of venom, which fooled my body into thinking blood was close. When the blood didn't follow, the burn intensified, driving me insane. It was a need so wanton, it took a strength so mighty to stop myself from ripping the bars from their concrete confines, and draining every dirty prisoner within sniffing distance.
But I had another need; a need to hurt so badly that my bloodlust succumbed. I needed to be punished, for it was all I deserved in this wretched existence.
I longed for death, but death denied me. My body burned for blood, but I denied it blood. If my body wouldn't let me perish, I would let it ache in reprisal.
My throat ached. I parted my lips and thought of tasting my own blood to ease the pain. I scratched at the slow-healing wounds on my inner arm, hoping to illicit something for my thirst, but the wounds had left me drained, with barely enough to wet my tongue.
I glanced down at my injuries. They were evidence of the punishment inflicted on me for denying James his request. I had skin like stone, yet he had the ability to wound me, but only because I had given him the capability to torture me, and he took great pleasure in this act. It was mainly due to my own need to punish myself, but however much he enjoyed it, he had no idea that I craved the pain just as deeply. I needed to hurt. It made me feel human again.
The darkness inside consumed me, almost as wholly as my loneliness. I longed for death, but death evaded me.
So, I had allowed him to shred my skin, because for the briefest moment, I imagined my pain had seeped through the wound and left me, if only for a moment.
As a vampire, I had the ability to heal within moments, but I hadn't fed in weeks and my strength as well as my resilience was low now. The injuries were taking longer to fade, and as time went by and my thirst grew, I became more susceptible to them.
It had been weeks since my last meal. The guards had brought me rats and other rodents which they hunted in the forest close by, but their blood was like rust in my mouth. The mineral content held little oxygen. I liked the taste of oxygenated blood as it sometimes helped the flavour by purifying it, but these puny little creatures did nothing to appease my appetite. I knew the ploy was to get me crazed for the taste of high quality human blood, to try to break me with disgust by feeding me putrid nourishment and then try to tempt me with the warmth of human blood. The aroma was mouth watering at times, causing my venom to flow freely, but I knew what would happen if I yielded to my thirst.
James wanted me to give in. He wanted my baser instincts to kick in and overtake all other sense and reason.
He had even brought prisoners to the cells and tortured them. He would leave them locked in with me, the scent of their blood, warmed by their wounds, burning in my brain, driving me insane, but still I resisted. I could sense their fright, smell it. I didn't need to listen to their pleas to know they lay still mostly in fear.
At times, I didn't know how I did it. It was a struggle, but whilst the wounded lay at my feet, I held my breath till they were removed from my sight. I could hear the other prisoners, their screams inside their heads, alas no one could hear mine. My panic at what I could do, if I allowed it, terrified me.
I had suffered my own torment when James had lost control of his temper and turned his attention on me. I wouldn't give in to his demands, and so he would punish me. I knew he hit me out of frustration because I would not give in to him. I also knew it was simply a matter of time before I gave in. I was weak, both physically and mentally. There wasn't much more I could endure.
But each day, I struggled, and was rewarded as the evening dawned with the knowledge I had beaten James once again.
I was his prisoner, but only because I allowed it. He knew I could kill him with a single swipe of my hand, but his hold over me kept me in line. I had no choice other than to stay and allow him his pleasure in hurting me, for in doing so, he stayed away from those who were too young and too fragile to protect themselves. My family.
When it first began, my wounds never lasted long, they faded and eventually disappeared, however, with the lack of nutrition, I took longer to heal each time he struck me.
At first the punishments didn't hurt, but each passing day that I became weaker, I also became vulnerable. Yet I could not, would not, give in to him.
To concede and then feed from his offerings meant I would turn my back on the tiny piece of humanity I hoped I still retained.
I could not deny that some had tempted me more than others, and it pained me to know that James recognised this struggle in me. He hit me deliberately, knowing it weakened me, but all I would do was withstand the beatings, and hold my breath.
I could go days without drawing a single gasp of air, the ability for vampires to breathe was purely for the hunt and survival purposes. If it was required, it was used. I had no need to breathe when locked in the prison cells for I did not hunt, and I was beyond caring for my own survival.
And so I abstained from feeding on the variety of blood groups they placed before me, not because my palate was too sensitive to devour rodent, but because once I caved in and let the sticky fluid coat the length of my throat, I was doomed.
I had bore witness to James and his dark thoughts. His haunting mind knew no bounds and for the first time in my entire existence, a human had frightened me.
James wanted so many things in his campaign of terror. He had started his life at the Prison as a young guard but the evil within him had soon shown all his ugly truth. Recognising an adversary who was yet to be challenged, the King had made James Captain. I'd heard the saying 'Keep your enemies close' and knew the King probably shared my trepidation about James.
The first time we had met had been a day I will never forget for it was the day I drank from my kin. I would never forgive myself for becoming a pawn in James' game. The people he hurt, my family, they all suffered because of me, and this is why I remained locked inside a prison cell. The chains and bars could not hold me. James knew this, the guards knew it, too, but I remained inside with the fetid stench of human excrement penetrating the air we all breathed, until it soon became no smell at all.
Sometimes the door to the outside world was opened, and a fresh wave of cleansing air swept through the cells and almost choked those who inhaled its welcome purity too quickly – greedy for the scent of the forest.
There were a few small windows scattered around the foyer of cells, but the summer had been cruel this year and there had been little or no breeze sweeping in to refresh us.
There were a few other prisoners also here. The cell beside mine was empty, the one next to that was occupied by a retard named Michael. He was harmless enough, his thoughts empty and unfocused. He reminded me of an animal.
The last cell held a female called Angela and her husband Ben.
Ben was mute, born deaf and dumb, but his thoughts were clear and surprisingly free from frustration. In Angela he had found compassion and understanding that the rest of the world did not show for the likes of him. He needed no words to communicate with her, she knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed. They were like two halves of one soul, linked by an invisible chain, holding them together as if they were a single entity. I envied their closeness, an intimacy I had never known and doubted I would ever find; not in my lifetime, anyway.
I felt invasive when I listened to their thoughts but they captivated me. Even though Ben could not tell Angela of his love, his thoughts echoed her own. It was beautiful to hear. Their crime had been born of desperation. They found it hard to get work, and without it, their stomachs remained empty. Angela had been sleeping when Ben had stolen a loaf of bread. He'd been seen and followed and both he and Angela were arrested for theft. She never blamed him for his brief lapse in common sense, often whispering to him that as long as she was with him, there was nowhere on this God forsaken earth she'd rather be.
I knew she spoke the truth, I could hear the sentiment in her voice and in her mind. She amazed me, and I felt a longing in me I didn't recognise. It wasn't Angela I wanted, it was what Angela offered – loyalty, compassion, love, friendship – the mere thought of experiencing such human emotion made me ache and I wrestled with myself, knowing I should not feel such longing. The only ache I should know was the burn of thirst when my body demanded what it needed.
Angela confused me, but I respected her. If anyone else could hear what I did in the shadows of the human mind, the lust and the hate, the love and the laughter, so many, such a mixture, if it could be heard by others, they would all know just how unique her purity really was.
They shared a cell with an elderly man, who mostly grumbled about his aches and pains. He was as harmless as Michael, and so I ignored his ramblings.
I stood and walked over to the wall which housed a small window seven feet above the ground. The autumn breeze outside teased me with a gentle flurry, not enough to sweep over me totally, but enough to feel it tickle my face. Closing my eyes, I inhaled.
I could taste something, so sweet, in the gentle breeze, and it burned its way from my nostrils down the back of my throat, till it reached the empty pit of my stomach. I wanted to see what it was that appealed to me, so I jumped up and gripped the bars of the window, pulling my body up till I could see outside of the prison.
Walking across the courtyard was a troop of guards escorting new prisoners to the cells where I watched. I knew some of those people wouldn't make even one night inside these bars. I had seen too many times the elimination process that James toyed with once he got them inside. He played with their hopes and fears, sending most, if not all of them, to the gallows.
The hunter in me brought my gaze to one prisoner, identifying the owner of the blood that teased me so.
Her long, dark hair was spilling from its pins, fanning out behind her as she shuffled forward. Her eyes were cast down and her hands were bound in front of her. I watched her stumble slightly as she walked, trying to keep up with the others. I raised my face and breathed in, trying to catch another taste of her delicious scent.
Just as I did, the breeze swept over her head, making her hair dance towards me before dropping it to her shoulders again. I waited, so eagerly, for the air to finally reach me, and gasped as it stung the back of my mouth. Venom pooled on my tongue and I felt unable to swallow it quick enough, feeling it trickle from the corner of my mouth. I released my grip on the bars and landed, soft and surefooted, on the floor of the cells again.
I clenched my fists and waited for the burn to subside, but as she drew nearer to the prison, I could almost feel her perfume caress me.
For the first time in my existence, I panicked.
I glanced quickly around me, looking for escape because for just one moment, my instinct to flee overshadowed my thought to feed.
I did want her. Oh, how I wanted her, yet it terrified me. My mind was filled with the vivid images of her body lying broken in my arms, the scent of her blood masking the stench of the cells. I could almost imagine the warmth of her life, coating my throat, slowly trailing down my insides, thick and sweet and oh so warm.
The desire to feel that heat made my knees buck and I gripped at my thighs, heaving a strangulated cry as I heard her shuffle nearer.
It was the first time I had ever given voice to my need. But with that one simple sound, it changed everything.
I no longer wanted to flee. I wanted to feed. I had waited so long and nothing else available to me could sate me, like I believed she could.
Her pulse beat a rhythm and my own dead heart responded. It was like a siren's call, beckoning me from my inner dungeon. I had denied myself for so long and I had been proud that I could resist.
I wanted to taste her and she was close. I didn't care that I could lose everything if I caved into my baser instinct. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she could appease my burn and I ached for that relief.
I was astounded at my body's reaction to her. I had smelled her on the gentle breeze, and in that moment, she had stripped away the human I clung so desperately onto, leaving in its place a monster that thirsted for her blood.
She was about to destroy me and she didn't even know it.
I heard the guards guide the prisoners inside. I had never felt such intense desperation.
I wanted to feed.
I wanted to run.
I wanted to grip her fragile body in my hands and tear her apart. She reminded me how much closer to animal than human I was.
I wanted to look away and deny she existed, and I wanted to remember the people who needed me to stay in control.
My eyes darted to the chains and manacles hanging from the wall, and I did the only thing I could. Running to them, I slipped my wrists inside and clung on for dear life.
But it was not for my life, it was for hers; I was struggling with temptation. Oh, the sweet, delicate warmth of her pounding heart was like a bell ringing to my senses.
She was frightened. I could hear it in her pulse rate, but with each anxious beat, her blood continued to sing to me.
It was melodic, musical even, and it was the sweetest torture I had ever endured. I didn't, for one moment, believe I could deny it. Only one of us would survive and I hated that it would be me.
I prayed for James to take her to the gallows; for her to be chosen by him for immediate death, for if he brought her in here and left her close to me, she was as good as dead anyway.
Her heart beat frantically, and I closed my eyes and lost myself in her music. It was the most beautiful sound, and it consumed me, holding me captive as she walked the length of the corridor from the door to the foyer.
I remained still and allowed myself the pleasure of her existence. She had mere moments left and I didn't want to waste my brief period of bliss.
I gripped the chains tighter and felt them weld to the contours of my hand, but they could not hold me, only I could contain the demon inside.
I was so hungry, and it was all I could think about, the heat of her blood, the flow of my venom. I squeezed my eyes closed tighter, and yet the images stayed with me. I could imagine my teeth sinking into her supple flesh, and feeling the blood which taunted me soak my tongue and soothe my ragged soul.
I opened my eyes again and watched as she came into sight. She rubbed at her wrists which were raw and bleeding from the tightness of the chains. I groaned and turned my face away, the pure ecstasy of her fresh blood creating havoc on my senses.
The guard pulled her roughly and her manacled feet kicked at the dirty straw littered across the floor.
"Wait here!" he commanded, shoving her back against the bars of the cell. He walked the line and instructed the others behind her to stop and stand facing him.
I kept my head turned away but my eyes sought her out. She peeped up from under her loose fringe, glancing around at her whereabouts. She perused the area, raising her head slightly to view the window high above her head. She sighed as she looked at it and I could only guess at where her thoughts had gone.
I pushed my attention on her but so many other frightened thoughts overtook my mind, I couldn't place which voice belonged to her.
She glanced over at Angela's cell and then to the empty cell, before looking quickly at Michael. Her brow furrowed as he started to meow like a cat. She watched him for a moment, as did some of the other prisoners, before looking away from Michael and directly at me.
I clutched at the chains above my head, gripping tightly, convincing myself she would be out of sight and out of mind in a matter of minutes and all I had to do was control myself.
She shivered, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the tiny hairs along her arms. I watched in morbid fascination as goose bumps prickled her skin, and I licked my lips in anticipation.
Who was she? Why was she tempting me so?
I wanted to cry out at the cruelty of it all. I was here, away from harm, and I had maintained my control, but why was she here, teasing me?
I felt angry at her. I wanted her to leave and to never see her again, but at that simple thought, the ache turned to despair. I had only been subjected to her painful delight for a tiny amount of time, insignificant, really, except if she was to vanish from me now, I would never be the same again.
I wanted her. I wanted to devour her, to sink inside her mind and wrap myself in her flesh. I wanted to revel in her warmth and sweet, decadent freshness, for she was like no other human I had ever known. I felt my body react to my needs. I was erect and it strained against my trousers, I wanted to bury more than just my teeth into her.
What strange reactions were these?
My chest lifted away from the wall as if pulled by her magnetic force.
James entered the foyer but I ignored him, feeling only my need to be surrounded by her.
She looked back at me and I wanted to scream at her to look away, to run from here and let me be free of her.
Her eyes dropped to the cuts and dried blood zigzagging across my chest and I shuddered. It was almost as though she had brushed the skin lightly with her fingertips.
I lifted my head and glared at her, beseeching with her to look away. Her body called to me but her eyes tortured my mind.
Her lips parted, and she gasped at the intensity of my stare then looked away. I didn't care; I needed her to know I was dangerous. She chanced another peek at me and my reaction to her was like a punch in the gut.
My own eyes widened and I struggled to stay exactly where I was because I was about to throw myself at the bars that separated us, and take her where she stood.
Her eyes were brown and soulful and I momentarily forgot my desire, feeling lost in their depths. She drew me in so completely I felt like I knew her.
I couldn't look away.
I parted my lips and drew in a deep breath, closing my eyes to savour the taste of her. It was mingled with the musty tang of the other prisoners yet it still tasted better than anything else I'd had on my tongue in a very long time.
I sighed in pleasure but it emitted as a growl, deep within my chest, the animal inside of me answering to the call of her blood. I opened my eyes and found her gaze again. My breathing was ragged and hitched, as with each breath I took, she tantalised my taste buds.
This was torture.
She pushed herself against the bars, looking quickly away from me. I could see her eyes scan the foyer, seeking out anything else to look at, anything except my murderous glare. But, like me, she seemed drawn, and her eyes sought out contact with my own.
Look away, goddamn it, why won't you look away?
Once again, my body surged towards her, and for a moment I imagined the invisible chain that linked Angela to Ben had been drawn between me and this stranger; tethering from my chest as I felt my back arch, seeking her out without my consent.
I hated her. I wanted her to cease existing just so I could be free.
I had managed to resist all that had been sent to torment me, but with her, I could hardly contain myself. The bizarre thing was she hadn't even been used to tempt me, James had no idea of the lure she had on me. I knew if he found out and tried to torture me with her blood, I may not last and she would not survive.
I finally tore my gaze from her and slumped back against the wall. Who was I to fight this? I was a vampire and I lived to drink blood. Nay, I lived because I drank blood. It sustained me and it was not in my nature to deny myself. I had gone long enough without knowing the pleasure which I was entitled to. Why fight this anymore?
What shall be shall be.
I heard the guards address the prisoners. Selection time had come. In their minds, they had already decided who was to live and who was to die.
"We have four cells and twelve prisoners!" James spoke loud and clear. "We'll have to commence with elimination immediately!"
I could hear the humour in his tone, he was enjoying this; he always did.
I'll keep the whores and kill the useless. His thoughts were like poison.
One of the females in line gasped suddenly at his words. He glanced at her quickly but pretended not to notice her. Making his way down the line, James pointed at certain individuals. "Take him, him, her and those two." He turned to another guard beside him. "You."
"Yes, Captain James."
"Alert the executioner to prepare the gallows. I have no room for these bastards here! Maybe the devil himself will be ready for your place in hell, hmm?" he pushed his face into that of the female who had gasped. Then, lifting her chin with his finger, he eyed her thoughtfully.
She stinks but is still fuckable, he thought. "What's your name?" he asked, his gentle voice belying his dirty thoughts.
"La – Lauren, sir," She stuttered in reply.
Fucking dog breath. He turned his head slightly as the rancid odour of her breath touched his face. Dropping his hand, he motioned to the other guards. "Her too,"
"NO!" Lauren screamed. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
I closed my eyes and tried to shut out her cries, they drowned out my own inside my head as her voice was both vocal and reverberating.
The guards grabbed her, one on each side, and led her along with the chosen others towards the door. I tried to ignore the thoughts of the damned. Some were accepting of their fate, others cried tears for the loss their families would endure.
Only five prisoners remained, and the tormentor of my soul was amongst them. I turned to watch as James stopped directly in front of her. My curiosity was peaked now, for with his voice, I could learn more about her.
I watched her open her eyes and felt a strange stirring my gut as tears fell down her face. I wanted to wipe them away and hold her tightly. She made me feel so much in such a short space of time. She was an enigma to me.
James stood before her, yet she refused to raise her gaze to meet his.
"And you," he addressed her. "What is your name?"
She swallowed, but remained silent. I leaned forward in a bid to locate her thoughts. There were fewer prisoners in here now, I should have been able to hear her, but instead, I was met with silence.
"I asked you a question!" His hand gripped the back of her hair, and tugging roughly, he pulled it back until her chin was level with his nose. She kept her eyes trained on the ceiling and I admired her tenacity.
James yanked harder and she cried out in pain. "What is your name?" he demanded.
I fought the urge to tear the bars apart and rip his goddamn throat out. She was calling to me, her body pleading with me to own her, and I wanted to answer her. Oh, how I ached to take her away from his filthy clutches. I wanted to protect her from his evil, I wanted to shield her from the horrors within his mind, but most of all, I wanted to possess her, body and soul, for she already possessed me, and I didn't even know her name. I longed to hear her speak.
"Isabella," she whispered, as if in answer to my silent questions, and not to James' demands. I felt my body shudder at the sound of her voice.
Isabella, I echoed, my lips moving, caressing the shape of her name, my throat burning with the sound. I wanted to shout it. I wanted to scream at her to stop torturing me but then to hold on to her so she would never leave me.
"Isabella" he purred, and my hands shook as I clutched the manacles that held me back. How dare he speak to her with such a seductive tone; it hinted to her at the direction his thoughts had taken. I didn't need to hear his voice to know where his mind had gone.
I can smell her, a little dirty, yet sweet.
A small growl escaped my mouth before I could stop it.
She will taste like honey, he mused, and I bet she is still pure, so tight.
I watched as James physically shuddered at the thought of entering her, making her body yield to his. I took my hand from the manacle and gripped my thigh, my fingers penetrating my skin and muscle until I could feel the marble smoothness of bone.
I didn't feel a thing, no pain, no realisation I had torn into my flesh. I wanted to kill him.
Running his finger down her neck, he leaned his face in closer, and taking a deep breath, he sniffed along her jaw and down her throat.
I watched with morbid fascination and inhaled when he did, welcoming the burn of her heavenly scent as it filtered through my senses and drove me closer to insanity. My venom pooled and I let it run free from my lips, unable to look away, jealous of his closeness to her, yet relieved it was not me who touched her fragile skin, as I would not resist in piercing that flesh and drinking my fill.
Moving his hand away from her collarbone, he pulled her bodice aside and I grew hard, as well as thirsty, when her breasts spilled free of the material.
So soft, so pale.
I hated that I lusted for her, this made me no better than the tyrant who had exposed her. Yet I could not look away, for it felt like I was abandoning her to his disgusting perusal.
Her nipples are so pink, so pert, begging to be licked, he smirked.
I removed my hand from my thigh and groped around on the floor beside me, seeking something to hold and break. I felt the cold, pliable body of a dead rodent and gripped it tightly, feeling the brittle bones grind to dust. I had barely squeezed, but I was strong enough to obliterate this tiny creature to nothing with my bare hands.
He lowered his face and inhaled from between her cleavage, and I groaned as the musty smell of her sweat and blood seeped over to me; tempting me endlessly with the heat of her body.
"You smell – divine!"
I nodded in silent agreement, and closed my eyes for a moment. When I re-opened them, he had released her hair and turned away.
"Tell me, Isabella, what witchcraft did you work to smell so tantalising to a man? You are not at all putrid, witch. Nor are you as sullied as the others."
I frowned at his words. Witch? Was that what called to me? Did I need to cling to any reason, no matter how absurd, just to justify my reaction to her?
I knew James was casting aspersions because he needed more than his lust for her to be the answer.
"Do you cast a spell on me now?" he whispered. "Do you tempt me with your illusions? I think you are not a young girl as I see before me. No! I think you may be haggard and old and disguised in a bid to outwit me."
James was lying. I knew it. He wanted her to believe he might kill her. He had her in the palm of his hand.
"What do you say to my sampling your wares, Sorceress? Hmm? Shall I undress that illusion before me, or shall I go ahead and seal your doom?" He gripped her hair again and pulled her head up to his eye level. "You will look at me when I speak! I am the Captain of this guard! Granted that authority by the King, therefore he and I command your respect!"
"Please," she whispered. "Please, don't hurt me. I'll do whatever you wish. Anything."
I rose to my knees and pressed myself against the wall. I was ready to lurch up onto my feet and rip his hands from her body. I never wanted him to look at her again.
He lifted his brows in interest at her words. His eyes narrowed, and a small smile lifted his lips. He sickened me with his repulsive thoughts.
She will lie beneath me until I am ready to burst, and then she will taste me, and she will like it because I own her life! I may keep her, I may kill her, but either way, she will suck me with those sweet lips until I say stop.
No longer able to hold back, I let rip the murderous growl spewing forth until its volume increased and I put every ounce of energy I had kept restrained into voicing my anger.
It was his blood I wanted now.
I threw my head back and pulled against the shackles that bound me. They would not break as I did not use enough energy to release their hold, but the chains still groaned under the weight of my anger.
"Ahhh, I see you invoke Edward, too. That is some sorcery you display, witch!" James looked back at her. "He has not been tempted by anyone or anything I have presented to him, but yet you –" He sniffed her again. "You seem to entice him the same way you entice me. But don't fret, Sorceress, he is weakened with hunger and cannot break those chains."
Running his free hand over her hip, he pulled her closer to his own body. "But his lust for your blood will not be sated," he chuckled, "well, not this evening, anyway! You say you'll do anything?" James purred, walking around her. She nodded, quickly. "I think you may be very useful to me, Isabella, temptress for all men." He moved his hand over her crotch. "Yes, there are hidden delights to you. I am sure I will enjoy."
I whimpered. His touch against her caused the smell of her hidden treasures to waft over and I felt my erection strain against my pants. I briefly thought of pulling it free and stroking it as she teased me unknowingly.
Michael started pounding his chest, making noises like an ape. He ran at the bars and tried to grab at her skirts. James swatted his knuckles with a cane, and howling in pain, Michael scurried back into his corner.
"Michael!" Captain James wagged his finger at him. "I warned you to behave yourself!" James laughed. "You'll have to excuse Michael, Isabella; he is what you'd call a retard! Put her in there!" he instructed the other guards, and they unlocked the empty cell, pushing Isabella inside.
One guard unlocked her shackles and stepped aside.
"See to the other prisoners." Turning, James re-locked the barred door behind him as the guards took the remaining prisoners elsewhere.
He stood alone with her in the cell, and she was scared. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she visibly shook as he approached her. She was observant for she already knew what type of man he was, and what he had planned. I watched as her eyes darted between him and the door behind. She made no move to escape.
Winching, she rubbed her wrists, and I was assaulted once more with the scent of fresh blood, only this time, I swallowed the burn and barely reacted. I was too engrossed in what he was about to say to her.
"Such abuse cannot be tolerated." James tutted, then feigned sympathy. He reached for her hand and lifted it to his face, mimicking my own desires, he sucked at her wounds. I felt saliva and venom fill my mouth and licking my teeth, I silently stood to my feet.
Isabella struggled, which angered him and pleased me. Pushing her against the wall, he shouted. "You will stay still when I touch you, unless I tell you otherwise!"
She nodded, a single tear falling down her cheek.
Licking his lips, he leaned closer and whispered. "Your blood tastes as good as you smell, witch. I wonder do you taste good enough to eat elsewhere?"
I watched in horror as he knelt before her, lifting her skirts and petticoats, he placed his hands on her hips. "Open your legs!"
No! I cried silently. Taking a step forward, I watched, longing to see what we could both smell. It was divine.
"Can you smell that, Edward?"
She looked over at me, her beautiful eyes so wide and hurting. I was mesmerised as a blush deepened the hue of her pale cheeks. I wanted to stroke my finger along the lines of her jaw and feel the heat of her embarrassment.
"She smells good enough to eat, doesn't she?" James murmured.
"Please, Captain, please stop." Her voice shook and it hurt me.
Dropping her skirts abruptly, he stood and gripped her face in his hand. "You said anything! Do you lie to me, witch? Do you want to die?" His tone turned gentle.
Dropping his hand from her face, he cupped her breast, circling his thumb around her nipple till it reacted to his light touch. I reached down and grabbed my cock, the barrier of my clothes stopping me from exposing myself as I watched him touch her in the way I wanted to touch her.
"I just wanted to request –"
He stopped to look at her. "What? You dare to request something of me?"
Rather than anger, he seemed amused by her words.
"Privacy," she murmured.
He raised his brow. "Really? You don't like an audience?" She shook her head. "No," he said simply.
"Then I can't," she replied quietly.
Sighing, he said, "Witch, you will bed with me tonight or you will sleep, burning with a funeral pyre at your feet. Which will it be?"
She turned and looked at me. I knew my gaze was intense and dark but I wanted her to see what she had done to me. I longed to hear her thoughts. I wanted to know what his touch had done to her. Did she request privacy because she wanted him, too? The idea that she would lie willingly with him hurt me and I almost staggered back against the wall from the impact of it.
The air buzzed with electricity and I prayed it was because she desired me, too. I licked my lips as she closed her eyes, wondering what treasures lay within her mind.
Her scent shifted slightly and I breathed in deeply as I realised she was aroused. James felt something change in her, too, for he moaned and pressed his face into her neck, kissing her skin and nibbling gently down to her shoulders.
I fell to my knees once again, gripping the manacles, as if they could restrain me, and for the first time in decades, I wished I could cry.
She peered through half-closed lids at me. Her gaze swept over my chest and as her pupils reacted, I knew she was imagining it was me holding her so intimately.
I smiled at her, showing her I knew for whom her desires were for. Her eyes followed my hand as I reached back down to my erection and added friction. I moaned and knew her body reacted to the sound. I could hear it in her heartbeat.
Without taking her eyes from me, she mirrored my actions, moving her own hand down to cover her crotch.
James, oblivious to our sexual play, tugged her bodice fully apart. Her skin puckered against the chill in the room and I groaned with pleasure at the sight. Her skin hypnotised me.
Raising his head from her shoulder, he whispered, "Are you as enticed by me as I am by you, Isabella? Do you want me inside you?"
She closed her eyes and nodded. Her breathing became harder, more laboured.
From outside the cell, someone cleared their throat. "Captain James."
Stopping his movements, the Captain lifted his head but did not turn towards our interruption.
"We need you outside, Sir."
"Pray tell, why?"
"Sir, it's the girl. Lauren? She has attacked Crowley."
Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, James turned towards the guard. "Is it too much to ask that you men handle a girl without my intervention?"
"Yes, Sir, I mean no, Sir, I mean –"
"Leave!" James ordered. Turning back to her, he spoke softly. "For tonight, Isabella, I shall have to depart. Before I go, remove your underwear so I can take them as a keepsake!"
His request seemed to awaken her from her seductive state of mind, and shuddering she covered her breasts and stared at me in shock.
"Isabella. I gave you an order!" James kept his voice low but it frightened her enough to reach down and remove her under garments. Handing them to James, we both watched as he raised them to his face and inhaled.
I managed to maintain control, staring as James turned on his heel and stormed out of the cell, through the small foyer and out of sight.
Running to the corner, she vomited.
The smell of it stung the air as she curled up into a ball and cried. Michael had stripped naked, and turning away from him, she faced me instead. I had placed both my hands above my head, inside the manacles again, and tried to show her she was not alone with a simple glance.
She watched me, too, until her eyes grew heavy with exhaustion and blissful sleep stole her away from the nightmare of this night.
As she slept, I swept my gaze across her tiny form. I had felt so desolate earlier on tonight, and within minutes of appearing into my life, she had awoken so many desires within me, feelings that had lain dormant for decades.
For the first time in all of my miserable existence, I wanted to live.
For her, I wanted to feel alive again.