Bound To My Vampire Captor

Chapter 3

The terrifying voice in my ear vanished, leaving only the sound of my own erratic breathing. Down on the lawn, the stranger lowered his sword, his cruel smile widening into a lazy, arrogant smirk.

He hadn't shattered the wards. The red sparks were just an illusiona high-level supernatural flare meant to test Sheldon's defenses.

"Still as jumpy as ever, Thorne," the man called out, his tone shifting into a smooth, mocking drawl. He raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping backward off the estate boundary. "Relax. I'm not tearing down your front door tonight. Just delivering a message from the Court."

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed a thick, blood-red envelope into the air. It hovered for a fraction of a second before shooting across the lawn like an arrow, landing squarely between Sheldon’s feet.

The stranger took a sweeping, theatrical bow, his eyes flashing toward my window one last time before he melted seamlessly into the shadow of the trees.

Down below, Sheldon didn't move immediately. He stood rigid, looking down at the envelope with a cold, absolute stillness.

My heart thudded against my ribs as I backed away from the cracked window. A joke. The intruder had breached the outer atmosphere of the estate just to deliver a letter. But from the tension in Sheldon’s shoulders, he certainly wasn't laughing.

Five minutes later, the heavy lock on my bedroom door clicked open.

I whipped around, sliding the stolen silver letter opener tighter into the sleeve of my sweater.

Sheldon walked into the room. His usual calm mask was gone; his jaw was set, his dark hair slightly disheveled, and the crimson rings in his eyes burned with suppressed fury. In his right hand, he held the red envelope, its gold wax seal already broken.

"Who was that?" I demanded, keeping the mahogany bed between us.

"Victor," Sheldon said flatly, his voice carrying a harsh edge.

"He knew I was up here. He spoke into my head!"

"He was baiting me," Sheldon replied, stepping further into the room, his eyes fixed on me. "And he accomplished precisely what he intended. He ensured the Court knows you are here."

He held up the heavy parchment he had pulled from the envelope. The paper was edged in leaf gold, covered in elegant calligraphy that practically bled darkness.

"What is that?" I asked, my pulse spiking as the Tether vibrated between us, transmitting a wave of Sheldon's cold apprehension straight into my chest.

"An invitation," Sheldon said, his fingers tightening on the parchment. "Isabella has convened the Court of Carrion. A seasonal gala at the Obsidian Spire. Attendance for all high-ranking houses is mandatory."

I frowned, reading his expression. "So don't go."

"It isn't a request, Diane," Sheldon said, his gaze heavy. "And the invitation explicitly demands your presence."

A cold pit formed in my stomach. "Me? Why would a court of ancient vampires want me at a gala?"

"Because rumors of a Sanguine Bound emerging in Chicago have already spread," he said, stepping around the bed. "Isabella wants to see if the rumors are true. She wants to test your blood, evaluate your strength, and see if I have the power to keep you."

"I am not a prize to be displayed," I snapped, my temper flaring. "I'm not going to some monster ball so your peers can evaluate me."

"They are not my peers," Sheldon growled, suddenly closing the distance between us. Before I could slip away, his hand shot out, grasping my wrist. He pulled me flush against his chest, his breath cool against my skin. "They are vipers. And if you refuse to go, they will declare my claim invalid and march on this estate to tear you out of my hands."

The Tether flared hot between us. I braced my legs and forced myself not to lean into his touch, glaring up at him. "Then let me go back home. If I'm not here, they won't have a reason to attack you."

"If you step outside these grounds without me, you will be dead in under an hour,” he whispered, his grip firm without causing pain.

I watched his face carefully, he hadn’t denied it.

The Court wanted me alive. Isabella wanted to see me. And Sheldon needed me protected. That meant I had something he needed.

“Fine,” I said.

His eyes narrowed. “Fine?”

“I’ll go.”

Suspicion flickered across his face.

“But I have conditions.”

His expression hardened. “You aren’t in a position to make demands.”

“Then you don’t need my cooperation.” Silence fell between us. The Tether tightened, a strange pressure stretching between our chests. For several seconds, Sheldon simply stared at me.

Then his grip loosened. “What are your conditions?”

I swallowed, refusing to look away, “If I’m going to stand beside you in front of your Court, you tell me exactly what they can do to me.”

His gaze sharpened. "You want information.”

"I want enough information to keep myself alive.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“Agreed.” Only then did I realize I’d won something, It wasn’t freedom. But it was a beginning.

"And if I disobey you?" I asked, holding his glowing gaze. "Will you lock me in a cage?"

A slow smile curved his lips, though his eyes remained deadly serious. "I would prefer not to ruin your dress."

He released my wrist, stepping back toward the door. "Martha will begin your preparations tomorrow morning. Learn the rules of Court etiquette quickly, Diane. A single mistake in front of Isabella will cost you far more than your freedom."

He left the room, locking the door behind him once again.

The next two days were a blur of intense, exhausting instruction.

Martha transformed from a quiet housekeeper into a ruthless instructor. She paraded me through hours of posture training, forced me to memorize the complicated heraldry of the dozen vampire houses attending the gala, and repeatedly drilled the rules of the Sanguine Bound into my head.

Rule One: Never break eye contact with a house leader first; it is seen as a challenge.

Rule Two: Never accept food, drink, or anything from anyone other than your master.

Rule Three: Keep your pulse controlled. Fear attracts predators.

I played along. I memorized every rule, every house name, and every family dynamicnot because I intended to be Sheldon's pet, but because every rule was a piece of information I could use to find an opening.

On the third evening, a heavy garment bag was delivered to my room. Inside was a dress made of deep, crimson silk. It was stunning, elegant, and explicitly cut to showcase the faint, healing bite marks on the side of my necka loud, undeniable declaration of Sheldon's claim.

By eight o'clock, I was standing in the courtyard, stepping into the back of a black limousine. Sheldon sat opposite me, clad in a crisp black tuxedo, his ancient eyes watching my every breath.

The drive into the city was silent and tense. The Tether thrummed steadily between us, a constant wire connecting my beating heart to his still chest.

When the car finally stopped, a uniformed guard opened the door.

I stepped out onto a black marble runner leading into the Obsidian Spirea gothic skyscraper that pierced the night sky. Hundreds of impeccably dressed figures milled around the entrance, their sharp eyes instantly snapping toward our car the moment Sheldon stepped out behind me.

Whispers broke out through the crowd.

“Is that her?”

“The Sanguine Bound…”

“Thorne actually claimed her…”

Sheldon offered me his arm, his expression a mask of unyielding arrogance. "Remember the rules, Diane," he murmured softly. "Do not leave my side."

I slipped my hand through his arm, feeling the solid, marble-like strength of his muscle beneath the suit. "I make no promises."

We walked through the towering double doors into the grand ballroom. It was a dizzying display of wealth and danger. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, classical violin music echoed through the air, and silver trays carrying crystal flutes of deep red blood were carried by pale, silent thralls.

Every single eye in the room locked onto us.

Before we could cross the main floor, a path cleared through the crowd.

A woman glided toward us. She was strikingly beautiful, with skin like porcelain, hair as black as a raven's wing, and a dress woven from silver thread. But her eyes made my blood coldthey were a brilliant, vivid shade of violet.

Isabella. Presiding authority of the Court of Carrion.

"Sheldon," Isabella greeted, her voice smooth as glass. She stopped a few feet away, her violet gaze sliding off Sheldon and landing heavily on me. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied my face, my dress, and finally, the mark on my neck.

"So... the rumors were true," Isabella whispered, a sharp smile spreading across her lips. "You found a living Sanguine Bound."

"She is under my protection, Isabella," Sheldon said, his voice dropping into a low, warning rumble. "We are here to fulfill the summons. Nothing more."

"Of course," Isabella purred, stepping closer. She reached out a pale hand, her manicured nail hovering inches from my cheek. I held my ground, keeping my posture rigid even as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Isabella’s smile widened, revealing sharp, gleaming fangs. "She smells exquisite. Truly a rare treasure."

Before Sheldon could reply, a loud crash shattered the music across the ballroom.

A body crashed through the stained-glass window high above the grand staircase, raining sharp glass down onto the floor. The crowd scattered in a flurry of velvet and silk.

The body hit the bottom of the stairs with a heavy thudone of the Court's perimeter guards, his neck completely torn out.

Above, standing on the shattered window ledge, framed by dark storm clouds, was Victor. Behind him stood a dozen rogue vampires, their eyes glowing wild and feral.

Victor raised a heavy brass detonator in his hand, his wild gaze locking straight onto me.

"Court of Carrion!" Victor roared across the hall. "Tonight, the Bound comes with me!"

He slammed his thumb down on the trigger.

Deep beneath the floorboards, a deafening rumble shook the foundation, and the marble floor beneath my feet began to give way.