THE CAPTIVE'S LOVE CHAPTER 5

Vladimir's chest was smooth and still glistening from his morning bath. He regarded Emereah with piercing golden eyes, as if a predator observing its prey. A loose silk robe draped over his shoulders, barely concealing his muscular, scarred body beneath.

He was beautiful.

And he was the devil.

He smirked. “You’re staring.”

Her jaw clenched. “You’re in my way.”

His chuckle was dark, teasing. “Am I?”

She tried to step around him.

He blocked her.

She scowled. “Move.”

“Make me.”

Her breath hitched.

The air between them was thick—hazardous.

Then, his hand extended.

Fingertips tracing across her bandaged shoulder.

She spat at touch, pain and something else distorting in her chest.

He moved closer in, voice as smooth as the night. "Does it still hurt?"

She bit her lip, not answering.

His fingers traced the cloth softly, his touch too soft.

And then—

Vladimir tore the cloth away, exposing her shoulder.

Emereah gasped, whirling to glare at him. "What the hell are you—"

"Looking."

She stood up straight.

His golden eyes swept over the red angry bruises, the raw sores, the proof of her disobedience.

His jaw clenched. His fist cramped.

But Vladimir's face was unemotional.

"I didn't give you permission to look Emereah," he said.

He raised his gaze, eyes glittering with something pornographic. "You didn't say I couldn't Emereah."

Her heart thudding. "Bastard."

He smiled wider. "I've been called worse."

She raised her hand to push the cloth back up.

His hand sprang out, trapping hers.

Their fingers touched.

The air sparked.

She wrenched her hand away, gasping.

Damn him.

Why did he have to be so. different with her?

His voice went low, heavy close. "You still don't understand your place, do you Princess Blade?"

She pushed her chin out. "I know exactly where I stand."

A flicker of laughter. "Do you?"

He moved in.

Too close.

His warm breath on her skin as he whispered softly, "Then why do you shiver when I touch you?"

She swallowed with pain. "I shiver in disgust."

He laughed—a vile, evil laugh.

And then—

A knock at the door.

Vladimir's face changed in an instant, darkening.

"Enter."

The door creaked open.

And there she stood.

Alexandria.

She stood there, rigid with what she saw—Emereah too close, the shift of which had been yanked back a little, Vladimir looking at her with an expression that filled her with fury.

No.

Her fists were still bunched at her sides.

Not again.

Her voice dripped venom. "How dare you?"

Emereah turned, unfazed. "Oh? Is your hand still sore from slapping me?"

Alexandria clenched her teeth. "You find this funny?"

Vladimir sighed. "You're loud this morning, Alexandria."

She turned to confront him, her eyes seething. "You think I'll keep silent after this? After you humiliated me? After you let this fiend touch you—"

Vladimir's eyes leaped to hers, cold and unforgiving.

"She was waiting on me."

Alexandria's fingers curled into fists. "She is a slave."

"Yes." Vladimir reclined with an air of ease. "And yet she has more poison than you."

Alexandria flinched in pain.

Emereah snarled.

Alexandria's eyes turned black.

"You enjoy taunting me, don't you Alpha?" Alexandria stepped forward, eyes blazing. "You have the audacity to replace me with her?"

The cold in Vladimir's eyes sparkled. "You are not so replaceable, Alexandria. But."

His eyes dropped to Emereah.

Sneering curl of his mouth.

"She has a sense of humor." Arrogance, blatant taunting—and the spark that extinguished Alexandria's control.

She jumped forward, her hand flashing across the space before anyone could grab her.

CRACK.

The slap whipped Emereah's head around sideways.

A blazing burn flashed up her cheek, but she refused to back down.

Silence.

Monumental. Killing.

Then—

A menacing growl.

Not from Emereah.

From Vladimir.

Alexandria had no time to think before Vladimir's hand stretched out, his fingers curling around her wrist when she tried to lash at him again.

His fingers clamped—painfully.

His golden eyes shadowed into something lethal.

“Touch her again,” he said, his voice low, deadly, “and I’ll break your hand.”

Alexandria’s breath caught.

She had never seen him like this.

She had never felt this kind of fear.

“You…” she whispered, voice trembling with rage. “You’re defending her?”

Vladimir released her wrist, pushing her away.

"She is mine to punish, not yours."

His words cut like a knife.

A reminder of her place.

A reminder that she was still beneath him, despite how much she stood as his future Luna.

She stepped back, ashamed, angry, tainted by jealousy.

Emereah, her face flushed rising to the cheek, sneered.

"Problem, Alexandria?" She said it in mockery.

Alexandria's anger burned hotter.

This slave—this vile, undeserving child—must be slain.

She tossed up her chin, refusing to break for them.

Alexandria's rage was a storm—a ranting, brutal storm that had no need to dissipate.

There wasn't even time to move aside before she closed the distance between them, hands locked around Emereah's neck, tightening until she could feel it.

"Don't act like you're still a princess here, Emereah."

Alexandria's voice sliced through, lip curled in disgust. "You're a slave. And you need to be reminded where you belong."

Emereah stood firm, silver eyes not wavering, defiant.

"You're right," she panted, voice raw from having been choked around the throat, "I'm a slave."

Alexandria's smug smile was fleeting.

"But isn't it pathetic," Emereah continued, curling her lip, "that even as a slave… I still have his attention?"

The words seared.

Alexandria's nails dug deeper into Emereah's flesh, anger distorting her beautiful face like something cruel.

"You dirty little—"

"Enough."

Vladimir's voice shattered through the air, cold.

Alexandria braced herself.

She released her hold, backed off slowly—but refused to let him go.

She wheeled about to confront him, frowning at him with anger in her eyes.

"She's playing games with you, Vladimir," she mocked. "She's playing games with you—under everybody's noses. Blind?"

Vladimir's golden eyes flicked between them.

His face? Remained the same.

Then, he smiled.

"You sound jealous, Alexandria."

Her face blazed, her pride hurt.

"I am not jealous of a—

"Then why," Vladimir took a soft breath, stepped closer on purpose, "are you acting so frantically?"

Alexandria's gust was taken away from her.

Emereah suppressed a laugh.

And that? That was the breaking point Alexandria shattered.

She released Emereah's throat finally with a growl and turned to Vladimir.

"You'd rather defend her than your own Luna?"

Vladimir leaned his head back, smiling. "You're not my Luna yet."

The words sliced through her like a dagger.