The Vampire King’s Captive

MARIA

“What have you done?” Corey appeared in her line of vision, his voice filled with horror and accusation.

Maria couldn’t get her mouth to move no matter how hard she tried. Her heart was racing in her chest, slamming against her ribcage. Her breaths were shallowing and her hands were shaking.

What had she done?

She’d recited the anti-mortality spell, hadn’t she?

He couldn’t be dead. No, something had to be wrong.

She stumbled a step forward just as Corey lurched forward and with narrowed eyes, watched for movement on Bran’s chest. There were none.

Next, he put his fingers on his pulse and with the way all the blood drained from his expression and his eyes widened, Maria knew that there was no pulse either.

Bran was dead. She’d killed him.

She’d killed the vampire king all over again.

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Corey spun and faced her, black forking out over his eyes in anger, expression tight and arms bunched, taking a terrifying step forward. “What did you do to him?”

Maria cowered, walking backwards as if she could escape his wrath. “I-I-”

“What did you fucking do to him, witch?” He was walking towards her now. No, not walking. Prowling. Like a predator, watching it’s prey, poised to strike.

Her eyes darted to Bran’s lifeless form on the bed as she backed away from him-from Corey-and once again, an overwhelming sense of fear filled her. Her instincts were screaming at her that she shouldn’t be walking away from him; she should be helping him.

And she wasn’t sure what she could do, she was just as confused by the surprising turn of events as Corey was, but he would never believe. He would think that she’d killed Bran on purpose.

Oh gods, Bran is dead.

The vampire king is dead.

The thought of Bran being dead filled her heart with pain and made her chest clench tight, making it impossible for her to breathe past the ache that threatened to swallow her whole.

But at thought of the vampire king being dead, a sense of foreboding filled her. Chills ran down her spine and her head filled with various images of the kind of death that awaited her when people found out.

His people were ruthless and one of them was standing in front of her, looking like he very much wanted to rip her apart.

“You killed him!” Corey yelled, showing the first signs of rage ever since Maria met him. Definitely, she’d seen him angry before, but this right here was rage. “You fucking killed him on purpose!”

Maria’s eyes darted to Bran again, unable to take her eyes off him. The pull to go to him was strong and she knew why. This time, it wasn’t just her instincts telling her to go to him-her powers had joined in too.

Her eyes flitted back to Corey’s livid brown ones, barely able to hold them. “I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise,” she tried to explain. “Just let me go to him and-”

“No.” His didn’t shout this time. His voice was calm, lethal and it made her jump a mile high in the air. Her shoulders started to tremble. “Lock the doors. Make sure she can’t get out.” He gestured to the guards in the far end of the room and they stood frozen for a moment, completely enraptured with what was happening before them, then at the same time, when they realized that they were being spoken to, they jumped into action and hurried to lock the doors.

Maria gulped.

She was trapped with nowhere to go.

Well… Unless she used her powers.

But she didn’t want to do that. She’d caused enough harm already and for the sake of all the gods, she just wanted to get to Bran.

“Corey, I need to go to Bran,” Maria tried to reason with him again, her voice breaking on the words and her shaking hands clasped in front of her in begging. “I think I can help him. Please just let me go to him.”

“I asked you,” he pointed a finger at her, seething. “I asked you if you could do it. I bloody asked you if you knew what you were doing and you said you did! Now look what’s happened!” He yelled, shoving his hands into his hair, then dragging one down his face before stabbing a finger at the bed. “You’ve fucking killed him!”

Tears welled in her eyes, both at the obvious pain in Corey’s eyes and the thought that she’d killed Bran. Oh, she couldn’t just stomach it.

A sob escaped past her lips. “I was only trying to help!” she cried, frustrated with everything. “I was doing the right thing, I swear it. I cast the right spell in my head and… and…” her eyes widened, a cold dread settling over her skin as she realized where she’d gone wrong. “Oh shit.” Her eyes jumped to Corey’s. “Oh shit, I think I cast the wrong spell.”

Somehow, she had gotten the spells mixed up in her head.

Instead of casting the anti-mortality spell, she’d cast the mortality spell on him again, thereby snuffing the remaining life out of his body.

Maria couldn’t remember when last she’d mixed up spells. It had happened to her when she was much younger, when she’d been learning the spells and mastering them. But it hadn’t happened ever since she’d turned thirteen.

What could have caused it? Was it because her powers had been shut down for such a long time? Was that the reason she’d mixed up the spells?

Whatever the reason was, it had cost her something far greater-Bran’s life.

And she was determined to fix it. She was determined to try. She would do anything.