THE CAPTIVE'S LOVE CHAPTER 4

Meanwhile.

The walls of the great hall trembled in fury.

Alexandria slammed into Vladimir's quarters, black eyes blazing with uncontrolled anger. The door slammed shut behind her, but Vladimir did not stir from where he stood beside the window, a glass of dark liquid churning in his hand.

"You sent her medicine?" Alexandria spat.

Vladimir did not glance at her. He drank slowly instead, going out of his way to ignore her.

That just angered her more.

She took three hard steps through the room, grasping his arm and forcing him to stand before her.

"Answer me, Vladimir!"

He turned his eyes to hers at last, golden eyes cold and unyielding.

And then—he smiled.

A slow, lazy, infuriating arrogant smile.

"You are upset." His voice was low, provocative.

Alexandria's nails dug into his wrist. "You gave that slave mercy. Why?"

Vladimir chuckled.

A rich, dark sound.

He laid his glass on the table beside him and leaned back on the balls of his feet, eyeing her. "You believe a little bit of medicine constitutes mercy?"

Alexandria was breathing hard. "She should have been allowed to rot."

"Should she?" He moved a slow step closer, the space between them filling.

Alexandria refused to back off. Refused to give an inch.

"She is nothing," she spat. "Nothing. And yet you—"

Her voice cracked as Vladimir suddenly swung his arms about her waist and pulled her up against him, hard.

Her breath caught.

His fingers traveled up her spine, possessive, teasing.

And then he leaned in, lips against the shell of her ear.

"Are you jealous, Alexandria?"

A shiver ran down her spine.

"Don't be ridiculous Vladimir," she spat.

Vladimir's lips curled against her skin. "Ah… but you are."

Alexandria pushed him away, shoving him back.

"I am your fiancée, Vladimir," she snarled, her anger barely in check. "And yet—she consumes your attention."

Vladimir let out a soft laugh.

"She defies me," he said carelessly, turning from the window. "That makes her interesting."

Alexandria's fists clenched. "She is a toy. A wayward pet—"

"Careful."

The change in his tone was a death sentence.

Alexandria's throat dried.

Vladimir turned back to her, his amber eyes treacherously unreadable.

"She is a slave," he said softly. "My slave."

The statement hung in the air.

He took another step closer.

"Would you like to try to take what is mine from me?"

For the first time, uncertainty flashed across Alexandria's face.

Vladimir smiled. A predator's smile.

She had always loved his cruelty—until it was turned on her.

At last, she let out a harsh breath and stepped back. "You are a fool if you think she will ever submit to you."

Vladimir grinned.

"Then perhaps I will enjoy the struggle."

Alexandria's entire body shook with fury.

But she knew she'd lost this battle.

Without a word, she turned and stormed out of the room.

The heavy door slammed shut behind her.

Vladimir let out a breath, rubbing his fingers together, as if he could still feel Emereah's fire on his skin.

She was different.

She was dangerous.

And he was starting to crave it.

After Emereah's wound had healed, Vladimir commanded her to wait on him in the shower. She had no choice but to obey. The air was heavy with the smell of lavender and wood smoke in the dimmed room. Dark stone walls comprised the Alpha's private bathhouse, keeping the warmth in the room.

Steam curled in the air, rising from the gigantic bath where Vladimir loomed, chest bare, water lapping at his waist.

And before him—

Emereah.

Her fists were clenched at her sides, silver eyes ablaze with fury. Her back still ached from her punishment, but that was nothing compared to the humiliation burning at her throat. She had been brought here, commanded to serve. The Alpha—her enemy—had demanded she assist him in bathing. Not the servants. Her.

Vladimir's golden eyes raked over her, slow and deliberate. He braced against the edge of the bath, arms braced along the stone as if he had all the time in the world. "Are you going to stand there all night, little wolf?" His voice was as smooth as silk, with a dark amusement undertone.

Emereah's jaw clenched. "This is beneath me."

Vladimir's smirk grew wider. "You are a slave, are you not?" He pointed at the silver chain still locked to her wrist—a cruel reminder of her status. "This is exactly where you belong."

Emereah wanted to strike at him, to pull him under the water and drown that arrogance from him. Instead, she kept her tone even. "Why me?"

Vladimir leaned his head to one side, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Because I like watching you seethe."

Her fists trembled with rage. This man was intolerable. She held out a shaking hand and offered him the small, delicate bottle of soap. "Wash me."

Her breath caught. Her fingers curled into a fist. "I'd rather die."

Vladimir chuckled, the sound deep and rich. "You make such grand declarations, and yet," He looked at her bound wrists. "You're still alive."

The air crackled between them. Vladimir took a step forward, the water rippling around him as he closed the distance. The warmth of his body sent a shiver down her spine, one she did not want. His voice dropped into a taunt. "What is it, Emereah? Do you get nervous?"

She scrunched up her face in contempt. "You abhor me."

His smirk grew. "Liar."

Before she could protest, he caught her wrist—not painfully, not cruelly, but firmly enough to make her pulse thud against her skin. He took her hand and wrapped her fingers around the bottle of soap.

"Obey, little wolf." His voice was a mere whisper of command. "Or would you prefer I punish you in other ways?"

Her heart thudded against her ribs.

She wanted to disobey him. To spit in his face.

But she wasn't foolish.

He could do much worse than order her to wash his back.

So she did the only thing she could do.

She obeyed.

She poured the scented soap slowly, deliberately into her hands, and pressed her palms to the broad, muscular shoulders.

His skin was hot beneath her touch. 

Her fingers shook slightly as they moved of his back, trailing down his spine. The silence between them was thick with something dangerous, something forbidden. 

Vladimir exhaled a slow, satisfied breath. 

“Good girl,” he murmured. 

Emereah gritted her teeth. "Shut up." 

Vladimir only chuckled, tilting his head back as she worked the soap over his body. "Your touch is not as hateful as your words, little wolf." 

She dug her nails into his skin. 

He hissed—not in pain, but in something darker. 

She froze. 

Vladimir turned his head, amber eyes glinting like a predator's in the firelight. "Careful, Emereah. Unless you want me to start enjoying this." 

Her breath hitched. 

Damn him. 

Damn him for turning this into a game. 

Damn him for making her pulse race. 

She snatched her hands away and stepped back, fists clenched. 

"You're playing with fire, Alpha." 

Vladimir smirked. "And you are fire." 

He reached out, dragging a wet finger along the mark at her neck—the cursed slave mark. His touch sent a shiver through her. 

“Maybe I just want to see how long it takes before you burn me,” he murmured. 

Emereah slapped his hand away. 

“Go to hell.” 

Vladimir only laughed as she turned and stormed out of the chamber, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Outside the Bathhouse…

Alexandria stood just beyond the entrance, her nails digging into her palm.

She had heard the whispers.

That Vladimir had ordered Emereah to serve him.

That the slave, that filthy, disobedient little bitch had been alone with him in the bath.

She couldn't take it anymore.

Storming back to his chambers, she waited—fury coiling in her chest like a viper.

The moment he entered, she pounced.

"You took her," she seethed. "You let that slave touch you?"

Vladimir barely gave her a glance. "What of it?"

Alexandria's whole body shook. "You are mine."

Vladimir finally looked at her—and smirked.

"Am I?"

She lunged, grabbing his collar, pressing her lips against his in a furious, hot kiss.

Vladimir let her for a moment—let her take what she wanted.

Then he shoved her back.

Alexandria staggered, shocked.

His eyes were cold. Uninterested.

"You can claim my title," he said, voice smooth and deadly. "But you will never claim me."

Alexandria's nails curled into fists.

Her voice shook. "Because of her?"

Vladimir chuckled. "Oh, my dear Alexandria…" He leaned in close, his lips barely touching her ear.

"You should be jealous. You should be very, very jealous."

With that, he turned away, leaving her standing there, furious, shaking, burning with rage.

Because for the first time…

She realized she was losing him.

And it was all because of Emereah.