The Bride of the Vampire King

The Werewolves' Princess

Aneela

The cold water splayed all over her was like a shock to her system. It did its job though - Aneela’s eyes snapped open immediately, her brain waking up from the deep slumber or whatever it was she had succumbed to. She felt dizzy and disoriented. Every part of her body hurt even though most of the wounds and bruises had already healed on the outside. She could barely feel her limbs though, the stretch of her body because of the uncomfortable position the chains put her in made it three times worse. The hunger and thirst were overwhelming and the urge to dart her tongue and literally lick the filthy water off her face was humiliating enough. Her gaze was not entirely focused when she let it roam over the dark dirty walls of her cell, even now looking for a way out, before finally stopping at the handsome vampire standing in front of her with a stone-cold face.

“What do you want now?” Aneela asked, barely taking a breath. She was too tired to care right now. She didn’t miss the bowl of the same slob he had offered her the other day, days maybe, but decided to ignore it even when her stomach rumbled in protest. But it was so damn hard not to focus on the only thing that she craved right now. The food in that bowl didn’t seem disgusting anymore - on the contrary, it looked like the most precious thing in the world and Aneela hated it, and the man who brought it to her, just because of that.

“Last chance to be civil about it,” Ambrose dragged with his usual nonchalant voice as he stepped towards Aneela.

She didn’t mean to flinch the second he reached for her. She didn’t mean for the feeling of dread to overwhelm the hatred in her heart and the pain all over her body. But she also remembered what he did the last time he was there. The memory of his fists was like a living breathing thing that would haunt her nightmares for as long as she lived. And she planned to live a really long time in order to make him and his master pay for this humiliation.

Still, her eyes darted away from him and she tiptoed back, the chains that still held her wrists up, rattling with the movement.

“Is there anything civil about you beating up a helpless woman on command?” Aneela countered, still avoiding looking at him.

There was a sigh that echoed in the walls of the cell before Ambrose left the bowl on the ground just like he had done before and Aneela braced herself for the blow. It didn’t come this time.

Instead, he reached again for her, this time without any sign of hesitation and almost gently removed the dirty hair falling in front of Aneela’s face. When he spoke, his voice was more tender, sympathetic even. Not that Aneela planned to fall for any of these vampires’ lies. His touch just anything else about him was cold. For a second, Aneela’s mind transferred back to the ballroom at her mother’s castle - to the moment she danced with another vampire, whose coldness for some reason didn’t bother her the way this ones did. It was such a strange feeling, remembering this other life, this other girl who was stupid enough to fall for the person who was out to kill her.

“I can’t help you,” Aneela heard herself saying, her own voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know where she is anymore.” It wasn’t a lie. Right now she was not a princess, she was not a maid. She was not her parent's daughter. She was just a girl on the verge of collapsing, weak and pathetic and hating herself for it because that other girl, the regal princess, guarded by anyone would fight to the last breath she had. This one here? She was cowering by the touch of a vampire and deep down already eager to do whatever he wanted for a taste of that disgusting food he brought. And it was just only after one beating. “Let me go!”

“I can’t do that. I told you, you are not mine to play like this,” Ambrose repeated almost gently. He must’ve read something on her face for his voice to suddenly sound so tender, apologetic even. Was he sorry for her? Was he pitying her? “You can still save yourself, just tell me the truth…”

Aneela’s eyes snapped at him, something in his words waking up the rebel in her. She couldn’t hide the spark in her gaze, or the fever in her blood when she spoke again. “You are so disgusting. Do you really think I will give in just because you ask nicely?”

He laughed. He actually laughed at her. The sound that left his lips was loud and clear but there was not a trace of it on his face. It was a scary thing to witness. If Twyla was here she’d say the sight of him reminded of a dead man laughing while falling apart. But Twyla was not here because a dead man killed her. The other one. Roan Alexander.

By impulse, Aneela spat at Ambrose’s face. That cut his laughter out immediately.

“Bring it on, vampire!” Aneela said before he had a chance to say something, her gaze trailing the path of the spit down his cheek. “You think you can scare me? Do you think I can tell you something I don’t know? I don’t know! I don’t know where that princess girl of yours is.”

He didn’t hit her this time. Instead, he reached inside his pocket and took out a white linen cloth with which he cleaned his face thoroughly.

“This is going too far,” Ambrose mumbled almost to himself. “I am not a torturer. I am a preceptor. And this is what we are going to do from now on.” He tossed the cloth on the ground and made another step toward Aneela. His gaze was cold like ice as he pierced it through her. “I am going to train you, pet. I will make you eat food from my master’s hand. And when I am done with you, you will be willing to spill all the truths you know in front of him, by yourself. He won’t even have to ask about it.”

Her blood boiled at his words. Whatever was left of her pride woke just this very minute and she started tossing and kicking and cursing again. Ambrose looked unimpressed. He wrapped his hands in front of his body and just stood there in silence waiting for her to cool off, for the chains to stop rattling this madly, for the curses to go away.

And she did cool off. One could scream and shout just as much and Aneela was exhausted anyway. She felt like a wreck right now, so lost she wanted to scream again, but her own voice was betraying her. As she took harsh breaths in she realized she did need a plan. She couldn’t go on like this. Whatever she said no one would believe her but admitting the truth was also not an option. She didn’t want to die, her soul - destroyed because the vampire king said so. Her mother was not coming to save her, that much was clear. Later, when she was finally free, Aneela would think of the reasons why Rumiana wasn’t here, why she wasn’t declaring war on the vampires for disrespecting her the way they did. Right now, Aneela had to rely on herself. And fighting pointless battles or giving up to pain and despair wasn’t part of the deal - she needed her strength, and she needed time to learn her way among the vampires. So, she had to wait and see when was the best time to strike. Did they want to train her as a pet for their king? Well, she was a good student. And when he trusted her enough, that’s when she’d strike him and make him pay for all the pain and humiliation.

“Look at you considering your options, wolf girl,” Ambrose said, somewhat amused by what he saw in her and Aneela cursed herself for being this obvious. Was this damn man a mind reader now?

“Don’t call me that!” She snapped in defence, completely realizing it was too late to play it cool. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to speak gentler to him, not after he bit her to a pulp just because.

“Then what should I call you?” He mused again, the sweetness in his voice sticky and luring.

“Mia,” Aneela replied with all the seriousness she had left. She was not going to give in to his mind games, her brain was not entirely gone.

“Are you lying to me right now, Mia?” Ambrose countered.

“No. I haven’t said a single lie to you! You just refuse to listen to me!”

“Alright then, Mia,” he continued, repeating her second name again and again like he couldn’t get enough of him. If Ambrose was one of the witches Aneela would believe he was trying to bind her or something by that, but he wasn’t. Vampires could not be witches. Well, except that woman at the ball, but that was a completely different mystery, one Aneela was bound to unravel before she left this place in flames along with everyone in it.

Looking her up and down, Ambrose started circling her like he was assessing every part of her body. Never in her life had Aneela felt as exposed as right now when she stood bound and wet, trembling like a leaf under this stranger’s scrutiny. He had never, not even once, touched her in a s*exual way yet she felt exactly like this - violated, disrespected. It was so much worse than the beating. That one she could take, that one she could fight back. This here though? Not that easy.

As Ambrose continued his inspection, Aneela wanted to shriek into herself under his gaze or ask the earth to open up and swallow her whole. She could swear her skin pricked in red spots because the embarrassment was too much and suddenly she was almost glad for the blood and gore covering her because they’d hide her humiliation at least a bit. Suddenly, the realization that things could get far, far worse than anything she anticipated so far, hit her with new power and she shrivelled, all strength she had left suddenly fleeing her body.

When the vampire finally finished his examination and stepped in front of Aneela once again, she felt like her entire skin was on fire.

“Not bad, my dear,” he dragged, his voice sounding too content - like he had just been checking out kettle on the market or something. That damn b*astard was too smug for his own good and Aneela’s hands ached to smash the little smirk out of his full lips. Oh, how much she’d enjoy hurting him. “Don’t be mad, Mia, this is just a part of the process. I promise by the time I am done with you you wouldn’t care who is watching you or how much they see. Trust me, there is nothing more liberating than this.”

“If you say so,” Aneela mumbled, looking away, unable to fight with the strange feeling suddenly flooding her chest at the thought of his words. It was outrageous, unspeakable even to even think about it - but the idea of walking naked and proud of herself… no, that was crazy. Was he feeding her some drugs through the air? Something to numb her rational thinking again and make her give in, be more pliant? Of course, he was. Why else would she tell him her name? Any of her names? That was absurd, outrageous. If her mother ever found out about any of this…

“Now, before we really start, tell me, are you untouched?” Ambrose asked so nonchalantly that Aneela’s jaw almost dropped in surprise. Did he really actually ask her this? And suddenly things did get too real. They wanted to train her as a pet. A pet of all things. Her brain suddenly started working through the fog of humiliation and confusion. She knew what it meant to be a vampire’s pet. All people knew this. Pet was just the perverted name vampire gave to their blood slaves. Their s*ex slave.s Gods! How could she be this stupid? Why did she have to be so weak and give in to the damn drug they were feeding her to numb her brain? They wanted to make her a slave to the king - a toy for him to do with as he pleased. That man in front of her claimed she’d crave the king’s attention once they were done with her. They’d strip her off her honour, her free will and her dignity because she didn’t want to reveal her true identity and didn’t want to die.

When Aneela lifted her eyes to Ambrose, she was ready to speak. Whatever fate waited for her once she confessed who she really was, it would be a hundred times better than having her pride stumped. She was the queen’s daughter, for heavens’ sake. She had royal blood in her veins, nobility ran through her entire bloodline for centuries, and she couldn’t allow being turned into a w*hore for the vampires no matter what.

“Gods, you are so prude, you wolves,” Ambrose rolled his eyes, completely misunderstanding the light t in Aneela’s gaze the second she looked him back with desperation. His lips were even pouting like a child denied a favourite toy.

“I am…” Aneela started but couldn’t finish as the door to her cell snapped open at the exact same moment.

A guard came in, a vampire whose face was hidden by a black helmet.

“My lord,” he said, bowing with a fist over his chest showing respect to his superior but Ambrose looked more annoyed than pleased. “I am sorry for interrupting the training. I have news from our scouts for the king but we can’t find him anywhere.”

“And you thought he was here?” The preceptor asked turning to face Aneela as if she was more interesting to him than whatever that guard had to say.

“Yes, milord. The news… the werewolf queen and her people returned to the House of Wolves.”

Aneela’s eyes widened in surprise. Mother was home? Why was she home and not on her way to save her only child? What was Rumiana up to? But it was the guard’s next words that sealed Aneela’s fate for good.

“The werewolf princess was with them. Everyone saw her, even our spies.”