And she knew that was a very dangerous thing to do.
***
Braith stared up at the young girl before him. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, completely bewildered as she gazed silently at him. His hand lingered on her leg, brushing briefly against her soft skin. The dark bruises, and scratches upon her, were vivid against her pale skin. He didn’t know what had caused the obvious abuse that she had withstood, but he found that he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He didn’t know what it was about this girl, but she fascinated him, intrigued him, and captivated him in a way that no one ever had before.
She was a pretty enough thing now that the layers of dirt had been removed from her. She smelled better now that the smoke, blood, and stench of body odor had been scrubbed from her. He detected a faint hint of strawberries clinging to her, even though they had washed her in some flowery scent he found didn’t suit her. She was not one to be wreathed in gentle flowers; she appeared anything but delicate as she watched him out of narrowed, weary eyes. He sensed that beneath her docile demeanor there was something far more intense, and far stronger than the way she was trying to appear now. Her powerful scent, fighting to overcome the floral clinging to her, was a great indicator of that fact.
Her features were soft, delicate even, and as youthful as the innocence she radiated. Her parted mouth was full, her teeth straight and even, and surprisingly white for the lack of hygiene she had displayed upon arrival. Her crystalline blue eyes were wide upon him, full of disbelief, fear, and uncertainty. Yet, they also appeared intrigued and curious as she tilted her head slightly to study him. Her hair, scrubbed free of the dirt coating it, was a glossy dark auburn. It gleamed in the light of the room, the red within it shiny and bright. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen a shade quite like it.
He didn’t understand what it was about her that intrigued him so. He had seen women far more beautiful than her in his long lifetime. She was too skinny, her collarbones stuck sharply out, the bones in her hands were clearly visible. He preferred his women with more meat on them, but from the look of her upon arrival, it was more than apparent that her life was not one of abundance and pleasure like the women he was used to.
But from the moment he had seen her, actually seen her, he had been captivated and stricken. There had been nothing spectacular about the stage setup, or the people upon it. In fact, he had not seen a single person on it, until she had been brought forth. He had not even intended to stop at the auction as he had moved by the proceedings. He had no use for blood slaves, there were enough willing people in the world without the need for unwilling ones, but when she had been led forth he had stopped dead in his tracks.
She had been unremarkable, filthy, disgusting, and bold. Defiance and pride had radiated from her. They were a beacon calling out to him, snagging hold of his attention as nothing in years had. At first he had barely seen her, but the longer he stared at her, the clearer she had become to him.
He sat back now, tilting his head as he watched her. She studied him with the same intensity with which he studied her, but they studied each other for completely different reasons. She wondered about her fate, what he was going to do with her, and what he wanted from her. He studied her because he could actually see her. It was amazing to him, fantastic and wonderful and slightly disconcerting.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked softly, her forehead furrowing slightly as her gaze ran over him.
Braith sighed softly, tossing the heels aside before he rose slowly to his feet. Her mouth parted, her head tipped back to stare at him. “What is your name?” he inquired.
She licked her lips nervously, her small hands pulled at the sleeves of the sweater as she fidgeted anxiously. There were small nicks and cuts on her long fingers, calluses marred her tanned hands. “Arianna,” she said softly.
He lifted an eyebrow, quirking his head to study her. “Is that your real name?”
A small smile flitted over the edges of her full mouth, for the first time he saw real humor in her eyes. “Yes.”
He found that he believed her as he settled onto the sofa beside her. “I am Braith.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes weary again. “Yes, I know. What do you want with me Braith?”
“I don’t know yet Arianna.”
Fear flashed through her eyes, she recoiled slightly before straightening her shoulders, clenching her jaw, and narrowing her eyes on him. “Everything you do to me will be done by force.”
Her defiance should annoy him (she had already defied him more today than anyone ever had in his life), but he found himself slightly amused by it right now. As long as no one was around he found he did not mind her show of courage. “You think so?” he asked softly.
She looked slightly surprised, but it was quickly covered up. “I know so!” she retorted sharply.
He shrugged indifferently. He didn’t know what he wanted with her, what he intended to do with her. He may decide tomorrow that he didn’t want her here at all; he didn’t believe he would, but he was known for his whims of fancy, especially when it came to women. He was captivated by her, and his ability to see her, but he didn’t know what he was going to do with her.
One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to force himself on her. He had done a lot of things in his long life, many of them not good, but he had never forced himself on an unwilling woman. There was no need to; there were so many willing ones out there.
“We shall see,” he said simply.
Her eyes narrowed in fury, her delicate nostrils flared. He didn’t know why he was baiting her, but it was amusing to watch her when she was irritated with him. Her jaw clenched harder, she turned slowly away from him, her hands fisting upon her slender legs.
“Where are you from Arianna?”
Her chin rose slightly, but though she was still holding the appearance of defiance, he could sense the pain that shimmered through her. “Around,” she said simply.
“You live in the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a member of the resistance?”
She hesitated, her knuckles turning white with the force of her clenched fists. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Resistance members are punished for their disobedience by becoming blood slaves, or being bled dry. It’s a way to discourage our fighting, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” he agreed softly. “You think that is wrong?”
“Don’t you?” she snapped.
He sat back as he studied her. The bright blue of her eyes was ablaze with indignation and righteousness as she glared at him. “If your kind would simply just agree to work with us, then there would be no need for punishment.”