Trapped

“Let go, you're hurting me.” Majesta struggled again, glaring at the man.

“Ye can no have her,” Craven growled out. Pulling Majesta toward him.

“I can have anyone I wish to have. She will come to me on her own.” Magnusson told him with a wicked smile.

“Magnusson, I am not a plaything.” Majesta screamed at him. Her heart wanted nothing more than to run to him.

“You see, her soul knows.” She didn’t really understand it, but then again, she didn’t care. Shifting from foot to foot and trying to keep from running into Magnusson’s arms. After a few moments two large men came up going toward Magnusson who vanished before they could put a hand on him. Craven let go of Majesta to sit back in his chair.

Blinking to figure out what the hell had just happened. Wind bellowed through the hall, and she hugged herself, trying to warm up from the chill. The arm that Craven had been holding onto was sore, with bruises she was sure would show up by daybreak. The cheer in the room had died out and everyone seemed upset at the appearance of Magnusson. One face in the large crowd didn’t seem upset; she seemed to want to help him get his hands on her. All the strong emotions and she started to wobble. Black spots started to dance in front of her eyes, feeling like she was going to be sick.

“Majesta…are ye alright?” Craven looked over at her from his chair.

“Not really...” She wavered as she put a hand to her head. “Emotions…” Craven already knew what she was going to say; he put a strong arm around her waist and held her up, so she didn’t end up on her rear again.

The strongest emotion she picked up on was rage. Already knowing where that was coming from. Another lash of her rage and Majesta was falling again, blackness started to overtake her. Several hours later, she woke up in the same room as before, but there was a wooden chair in the room now. Craven was sitting in the chair looking rather pissed off. His emotions didn’t have the same effect that the others did. That confused her, and she wondered how she would get a hold of this. It was not normal to be able to feel other people’s emotions. Right? Why had it just started to bother her? Was it the dreams?

“How are you?” Craven asked when she opened her eyes.

“I have a rather horrible headache.” Majesta told him as she sat up.

“That is normal with the overload of emotions.” Craven growled out, knowing that most of it had come from Amèliä.

He stood moving toward the bed. For the first time, she didn’t hide from him. Letting him sit on the bed to take her hand in his. His skin was soft and silky, but very cold. Knowing that he needed blood, and she feared he would take hers. It was a stupid thing to think, but hey she was only human.

“You’re cold…” Majesta started without a single thought, rubbed her hand on his cheek. The feel of his skin was silky smooth, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin. A single thought brought her to her right mind making her pull away from him. He looked hurt when she did but didn’t say anything about it. “Why didn’t you let me go to him?” 

“You are meant to be with me.” Craven stood, going back to his chair. “That day he could have saved you.”

“If my memories are right, I told him no.” Majesta told him not show how these memories worked. She couldn't just call them up at a moment's notice.

“I doubt it.” Craven didn't want to hear what she had to say.

Majesta was baffled by what he said, but then again since she arrived it was one thing after another. Nothing seemed to be normal here, it made her head hurt to figure things out. Standing on her own, she looked at Craven with a sigh. This man wanted something from her but didn’t want it from the present her. It was like she had lived another life, and it was coming to haunt her. Wanting to stand in the hall and scream at the top of her lungs, wishing it would make things right again. Turning to him with a deep breath.

“I want to go home… Now.” Majesta told him with a sigh.

“I am sorry, but I can’t let you go home.” Craven glared up at her.

“It is not an option. I go home, or I find a way out of here.” Majesta put her hands on her hips as she glared down at him.

“No one here will help you leave.” Craven thought he knew all his people. That none would risk his anger.

“I will leave, just wait.” Majesta knew who to talk to about getting off the isle.

With that thought, he grabbed her, flinging her over his shoulder. Punching his back till her hands were sore, but it didn’t seem to bother him in the least. She stopped letting him carry her like a sack of potatoes. It pissed her off more than anything that he thought he could get away with kidnapping her again! Hell, who would have thought that the man of her dreams would appear and take her. The next night, she would be stupid enough to try to run away. It was life after all, she didn’t want him to manhandle her. Maybe if she threw up on him, he would put her down. All women wanted to be swept off their feet and fall madly in love, but this was not the way they wanted it to happen. She was off her feet, but not in love.

“Put me down.” Majesta screamed at his ass. “You big ape, I swear I am going to barf on you.”

“As ye wish,” he said, and she ended up on her rear, thankfully the bed was under her. Majesta could still sit and listen to him speak all day. Color flushed her face when the dress flew up and almost over her head. With some grunts, groans, she got the stupid thing down and flattened out.