She's Just Food

Captured and Delivered

Amelia-POV

I fought, I kicked, I clawed, and I screamed; but none of it mattered amidst the once bustling market, where I found myself ensnared in the grips of their grimy, vampiric hands. The fall colors of the marketplace clashed with the darkness that threatened to engulf me as I resisted the relentless jerks and pulls of my captors. My fighting spirit refused to yield in the bright light of day, putting on a show for the frightened, but oh so curious, eyes that watched on without helping me.

Cowards. They were all cowards.

The presumed vampire leader dug his claws into my wrists as he led me through the crowded stalls, and you could’ve heard a pin drop in the silence that surrounded us. A space that usually sang with the hums of daily life had suddenly lost its voice as its occupants observed the spectacle unfolding in front of them.

I refused to go easy or be a silent victim; it wasn’t what I'd been taught to do, and with each step, I made him work to keep his hold on me. I couldn’t help but glance around one last time, searching for any sign of aid in the sea of familiar faces, but they all stood like stone statues—unmoving and unhelpful.

“Will none of you help me? You all know me! You watched me grow up, and you know my godmother!” I screamed at them, but no one moved and most dropped their heads. As I turned my head away from the cowardice crowd, the back of my captor’s hand connected with the side of my cheek and split the corner of my lip on impact.

“Stop making a scene, b***h, or your mutt of a boyfriend is going to get a lot more than a busted face and some broken ribs.”

My heart clenched at the mention of my best friend, the only man I’ve ever loved. The images of his battered and bruised body lying on the ground lingered in my mind, and the brutality he suffered at their hands replayed on an endless loop. My worry for him mixed with my worry for Aggie made me nauseous, but when it mingled with the frustration of my own predicament, it refueled my fight once more.

Quincy had been my confidant and my partner in crime since I was twelve years old. He was three years older than me, but as we grew up, and I became a teenager--we became something much more intimate. I couldn’t imagine doing life without him. I loved him, although I’d never said the words aloud, and every day I thanked his Moon Goddess for giving me another day with him.

“You keep your grimy hands off of him, or my godmother will destroy you all! Just wait until she finds out about this! You will all be sorry and fall to your knees begging for forgiveness!” I threatened.

I attempted to jerk my arm free, but his grip only tightened as he threw his head back and boisterous laughter rang from his lips like a haunting melody.

“You mean the godmother that’s laid up in bed too weak to defend her cottage or herself? That old hag should consider herself lucky if she makes it through the night. I don’t think she’ll be destroying anyone anytime soon, or coming to your rescue, girl.”

His words were like a hot poker straight to my heart, and just the thought of Aggie lying in bed sick, weak, and all alone shattered it into a million pieces. If she died, I would be all alone. I mean, I would still have Quin, but he was a werewolf, and one day, he would find his fated mate. Suddenly, the thought occurred to me; Quincy was a werewolf and wolves had advanced healing!

I ceased my struggle as I glanced over my shoulder. My fight was fruitless at this moment, anyway. The other three vampires, who still wore their black cloaks, trailed closely behind us as well as the vampire from the donation pavilion, but there was no sign of Quinn.

His healing abilities offered me a glimmer of hope, but the weight of my dependence on him immediately weighed on my conscience. Would he and Ira, my white wolf in shining fur, come charging in to rescue me, or was this challenge too overwhelming even for them?

As we approached the end of the market, the dark alley that led up the hill to the king’s coven came into view, and I realized that a confrontation with the royals was imminent. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, as though it caged a thousand butterflies, and my stomach turned violently, causing me to fight back the bile that rose in my throat.

The fading sunlight set the stage as we ascended the alleyway. An interaction with the royal supernatural's of Nocturnia was something I'd been taught to avoid my entire life, but here I was being dragged headfirst into their lair.

“Keep up, girl!” My captor hissed, “I’ll drag you the rest of the way if I have to, like the trash you are!”

My defiance burned beneath my skin, like a beacon of light against the darkness, but I pushed it down. I was overpowered and outnumbered.

“Who are you taking me to? Why am I being dragged to the royal coven like this?” I asked, hopeful that he would actually give me an answer.

“The King’s Royal Consort scented your blood during inspection and ordered that you be brought to him with haste. Therefore, I would presume you are now the property of His Highness Logan Lebeau-Ambrosia.”

My mind had a mini meltdown as I attempted to process his words, and “you are now the property of” rang in my head like a death knell. I was a human-being, not a piece of property to be owned—by royals or anyone else.

“I’m not the property of anyone. I’m a person, not an object to be owned,” I retorted, twisting as I tried unsuccessfully to break free one last time, but only stumbled and lost one of my slides. The vampire jerked my arm, harder than any time before as I attempted to retrieve my shoe, and the audible pop that sounded from my shoulder echoed off the stone walls around us.

The crippling pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life. The scream that started in my chest and burst from my lips was so forceful I nearly passed out, and I was sure that even the villagers in the market below had heard it.

“f**k! Look what you made me do, you dumb b***h! I told you to stop fighting me!” My captor bellowed, raising his hand to strike me once again.

“Sir, wait! The King’s Consort ordered that she be brought to him unharmed. He has claimed her as theirs. I would not inflict any more damage than you already have. I’m sure there will be harsh consequences if you do.”

My captor lowered his hand as he turned his head toward the vampire who’d spoken, and it was the one from the donation check-in. A fiery pain radiated in my shoulder and spread through my chest as my captor tugged on the arm he’d dislocated. I couldn’t stop the cry of mercy that left my lips as he resumed his stride and pulled me along by my injured arm like I was a rag doll.

“Please…please stop pulling on my arm! It’s broken or something. You broke it!” I wailed, nausea flooding my stomach once again. My skin felt clammy, and I knew I was very close to passing out. Just as my legs started to tremble, a hair-raising hissed echoed off the stone alley walls, drowning out my screams, and everyone around me fell to their knees, including my captor.

My head turned, as if on command, towards the direction of the sound, and my eyes caught the sight of a god. His mere presence was captivating, like a merging of dark malevolence and ethereal beauty. Long, golden curls cascaded over his shoulders like strands of sun-kissed silks and his ocean blues locked onto my hazel greens with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

The way he observed me was as if he was trying to unravel the secrets of my soul, and it ignited a familiar feeling within me. My fear and arousal instantly entwined, creating a whirlwind of emotions that left me completely spellbound.

The god approached us at a predatory pace, his movements fluid and precise. The scruffs of his footsteps reverberated through the alleyway, and the sound amplified the tension that hung in the air. My breathing picked up as he neared; I was going to pass out.

“My orders were to bring her to me unharmed and untouched!” He barked. “Who has disobeyed my orders?” He hissed.

“She would not come willingly, Your Highness. She fought me the entire way. I apologize for my mistakes, My Lord." The bastard who'd broken my arm groveled. "I only desired to get her to you, as I assumed that was the primary aim for this hunt.”

My legs shook and my surroundings spun as my vision blurred. Hunt? My spongy legs finally gave out, and I extended my uninjured arm to break my fall.

Unexpectedly, and, out of nowhere, a powerful arm reached out, wrapping around my lower back, and a large hand pressed gently against my fluttering stomach.

Before I could protest, I was whisked off my feet and into the muscular arms of the King’s Royal Consort. My vision faded as my head dropped against his shoulder and his soft whispers lulled me into the awaiting darkness.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you. You’re safe with me, my precious birthday present. I’ll take care of you.”