Claribelle's Mate

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Claribelle's POV

I rarely saw Captain Jackass after our initial meeting. Cale, on the other hand, I saw every day. He brought me two meals a day, even after I told him I didn't eat, and sometimes he would try to talk to me.

After a couple days, I started answering him. I wasn't real sure how I was supposed to get out of here and I figured it couldn't hurt to try to make a friend, especially one as high as he was.

I never asked for blood. I knew they wouldn't bring it, and although my throat was burning like someone had poured gasoline down my throat and lit it on fire, I wasn't going to ask.

I knew that I needed to get out of here before the lack of sustenance really started to affect me. Within a week, I would start weakening in exponential amounts until, after about two and a half weeks I would be practically catatonic. I'd never been even close to that state, but I'd heard that we remained conscious and just in a lot of pain.

Cale was curious. I actually found myself enjoying our conversations. He was honestly curious about vampires and my coven and how we managed to interact with my pack. He was actually a pretty friendly guy and I had to remind myself that he was part of the pack holding me hostage. He wasn't actually a friend, I just needed help getting out of here.

Cale settled down in front of the gate to my cage.

I'd been here a week and a half and I'd already learned that the wires weren't regular metal. They were strong enough that I couldn't break through them. When I used all my strength I could rattle them, but I hadn't been able to do that in three days. My strength was waning.

Cale slid a plate of sandwiches through the slot on the door and gave me a gentle smile. "How are you today?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow without saying anything and he ducked his head.

"Sorry, probably not the best question I could have asked."

I shook my head and pushed the plate back through the hole to him. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not going to eat that?" I asked of him.

He shrugged, not touching the plate of food that was back on his side of the fence. "How often do you normally drink blood?"

My throat flared even hotter at the mention and I winced, my hand involuntarily reaching up to rub my throat. His insensitive question pissed me off, though I shouldn't have been surprised. He was holding me here and starving me after all. "Why don't you just go back to your wonderful Alpha and leave me alone?" I snarled at him.

He held his hands up in the air. "Whoa! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, I swear," he replied, his voice fervent and honest. "Was that a rude question?"

I rolled my eyes. "Did you really think the mention of blood wouldn't bother a starving vampire?"

He winced. "I'm sorry, I was just curious," he said, his face so apologetic that I started to feel bad. I shouldn't, but I honestly don't think that he meant any harm and I enjoyed our conversations. They broke up the monotony of sitting in a wire enclosure like a zoo exhibit for all of the pack to watch and heckle as they went about their days.

I sighed, giving in. "Alright, but if you want to talk about this, you can't say the word."

He nodded, the expression on his face showing his eagerness to continue his questioning. "So, how often?"

"Normally three or four glasses a day, at least," I replied, trying not to think about it.

"How long can you go without it?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.