Bound To My Vampire Captor

Chapter 2

The world went white.

The initial bite had stung like a hot needle, but the moment Sheldon began to drink, the pain evaporated into a strange, terrifying wave of liquid heat. It flooded my veins, rushing from the wound in my throat down to my fingertips and toes. Every nerve ending in my body lit up at once.

My fingers, which had intended to tear him off me, sank helplessly into the fabric of his suit jacket. I let out a low gasp into the quiet of the grand room, my knees giving out.

Sheldon caught me before I could fall, wrapping one massive arm around my waist to hold me flush against his chest. He drank steadily, as if savoring every drop. And with every swallow he took, the invisible chain wrapped around my heart pulled tighter, his slow, heavy pulse echoing in rhythm with my own frantic heart.

This is wrong, my mind screamed through the intoxicating haze. He is a monster. Fight him!

I shoved my consciousness directly against the bond, forcing every ounce of my willpower to reject him.

The backlash was instant.

Sheldon stiffened, a sharp, choked noise tearing from his throat. The crimson in his eyes flared dangerously as the static of my mental rejection surged back into his own nervous system. His teeth dragged against the wound as he pulled back with a low, ragged breath. He pressed his thumb firmly against the bleeding punctures, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched near his temple.

His breathing was heavy not from exertion, but from the raw effort of forcing down the bond's feedback.

For the first time, I saw uncertainty flicker across his face.

Whatever he had intended to do next, my rejection had changed it.

He released me. Not because he wanted to. Because the Tether had forced him to.

"Look at me, Diane," he commanded, his voice tight.

I forced myself to glare up at him, my breathing shallow, refusing to hide the triumph in my eyes. "I... hate you."

A dark, dangerous spark touched his gaze, though his own composure was visibly rattled. "Good. Keep that hatred. You're going to need it to survive here."

He licked the stray drop of blood from his thumb, keeping his eyes locked on mine. Before I could process the sickening intimacy of the gesture, heavy footsteps echoed outside the mahogany doors.

"Master Thorne."

The doors glided open, and an older woman stepped inside. She was dressed in a crisp, dark housekeeper’s uniform, her graying hair pinned into a severe bun. Her face was devoid of emotion, but her sharp eyes took in the scene instantly: Sheldon holding me, the blood on my throat, and the bent cast-iron skillet sitting on the floor.

"Martha," Sheldon said, his tone instantly shifting back to cold authority. "Prepare the east guest chambers. She will be staying there."

Martha bowed her head slightly, her eyes lingering on me. "At once. The Court of Carrion has already sent three couriers demanding an audience regarding the disruption in Chicago."

Sheldon’s jaw set. "Tell them I am unavailable."

"They are aware you took the girl, sir," Martha replied calmly. "Isabella’s scouts were spotted near the tree line twenty minutes ago."

At the mention of Isabella, a flick of genuine tension passed through Sheldon’s features. His grip on my waist tightened imperceptibly.

"She is under my protection," Sheldon said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet warning. "Anyone who crosses the boundary will be executed. See her to her room."

"Yes, Master Thorne." Martha gestured for me to follow her. "This way, Miss Vance."

Sheldon released me. My legs were still weak, but I managed to stand on my own, stubbornly refusing to reach out to him for support. I wiped the trace of blood from my neck with the back of my hand, keeping my eyes fixed on Sheldon.

"This isn't over," I said, forcing my voice into steady ice. "I will find a way out of here."

"I would expect nothing less," Sheldon replied coldly, turning his back on me to walk toward his desk. "Sleep well, Diane."

Martha led me through a maze of stone corridors, up a sweeping spiral staircase, and down a quiet wing of the estate. The house was a sprawling, ancient fortress built of stone, dark wood, and reinforced glass. As we walked, I forced my brain to operate past the lingering fog of the bite.

I memorized every turn. Left at the grand staircase. Right past the portrait gallery. Three doors down on the left.

Court of Carrion. Isabella. I filed the names away like ammunition. If Sheldon had enemies, I had potential leverage.

"You shouldn't provoke him, Miss Vance," Martha said quietly as we reached a pair of heavy double doors.

I stopped, eyeing the housekeeper. "He kidn*pped me. Am I supposed to thank him?"

"No," Martha said, unlocking the door and pushing it open to reveal a massive, luxurious bedroom with a four-poster bed, a fireplace, and towering windows overlooking the dark estate grounds. "But Sheldon Thorne is the only reason you are breathing right now. The Court of Carrion would not have bothered to bring you here alive. They would have harvested your blood where you stood."

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my posture rigid. "Who is Isabella?"

Martha turned to face me, her expression unreadable. "Questions will only get you into trouble here. Get some rest. There are clothes in the wardrobe. Do not attempt to leave this wing tonight."

She stepped out and closed the oak door. I heard the distinct, heavy click of a key turning in the lock.

Locked in.

I rushed to the arched window, peering out into the night. Below me lay a dense, misty forest surrounding the estate, framed by tall wrought-iron gates in the far distance. It looked miles away from civilization, but I wasn't going to lie down and play the helpless captive.

I spent the next hour investigating the room. I checked the wardrobe (tailored, expensive clothes), the bathroom, and the heavy oak furniture. On the writing desk, I found a small, sharp silver letter opener. I slid it firmly up the sleeve of my sweater. It was a pathetic weapon against a ancient vampire, but it gave me an edge.

If Sheldon thought a locked door and the Tether would make me compliant, he was dead wrong. I was going to learn how this house worked, figure out how to bypass those gates, and get back to my family.

And if I couldn’t escape yet, I would find something Sheldon needed badly enough to bargain for my freedom.

A sudden, sharp pain flared in my chest.

I gasped, clutching my sweater right over my heart. It wasn't my pain it was an intense surge of adrenaline, rage, and alarm that didn't belong to me.

The Tether.

I was sensing Sheldon’s emotions.

Down below, somewhere on the perimeter of the estate, a deep, earth-shaking rumble echoed through the night. The heavy glass windows rattled in their frames.

I scrambled back to the window, pressing my hands against the glass. Out near the edge of the dark forest, past the estate's glowing wards, the shadows were moving.

A tall silhouette stood just beyond the boundary line. Even from this distance, I could feel the suffocating menace radiating off the intruder. He was massive, his long coat whipping in the autumn wind.

It wasn't Sheldon.

A blinding flash of red light exploded across the estate's ward lines as the intruder struck the barrier with a force that sent shockwaves through the stone. The glass in my bedroom window cracked down the center.

Below, Sheldon materialized on the lawn in a blur of motion, his hands covered in dark, crackling energy as he faced the intruder across the shimmering boundary.

The man outside the gates threw his head back and laughed, a sound so bitter and wild it made my blood run cold.

"Is that how you welcome old friends, Sheldon?!" the man’s voice echoed across the grounds, carrying supernatural weight. "Or are you just afraid I've come to take back what you stole?!"

The man raised his hand, and a heavy, black-bladed broadsword materialized in his grip. With a brutal swing, he brought the blade down onto the wards.

CRACK.

A blinding flash of crimson exploded across the barrier lines. The ward shattered into shimmering dust.

My heart hammered against my ribs as the stranger stepped onto the estate grounds, his glowing eyes scanning the high windows of the mansion until they locked directly onto me.

A wicked smile spread across his face.

"Hello, little Sanguine," the stranger’s voice whispered right in my ear, despite him standing hundreds of yards away on the lawn.