CAPTIVE by the Prince

Chapter Twenty Four

“Princess, drink up.”

“Until when do we keep her like this?”

“Until she finds herself back; until she could control her own hunger.”

“Look at her, my poor, poor daughter. If only she was back at Sanggre, we wouldn’t have to tie her down like this.”

The loud voices that echoed inside the room made Ana flinch. The loud sounds were hurting her ears. The sound of a swishing cloak, the hooting of the owl, the ringing clang of steel pots and pans as it hit the floor… The last sound was piercing and too loud. And for some odd reason, she knew the sound was not inside this room. No. She knew precisely where it came from: Inside the kitchen several floors down from where she was right now. How did she even know where the sound came from?

Her vision suddenly became clear and she realized the earlier voices came from four people surrounding her bed: Lucya was holding a glass before her lips, Kristoff was exchanging angry looks with Ivan, and her mother was sitting on the bed beside her.

She tried to move, only to realize that her wrists and feet were bound to the bed. She looked down and was horrified to see her once white nightdress was now drenched with gory, crimson blood.

“M-mom,” she managed to squeak.

“Oh my daughter!” Her mother flung her arms on her. “You are alright now. You just completed your transition.”

“I did?”

Her queen mother nodded. “Yes. And what a spectacle you had caused.” She chuckled before she added, “You had your husband worried.”

Ana lifted her gaze to where Ivan was standing. She tried to give him a weak smile, but Ivan averted his gaze away from her. She found it odd that he would do that. She thought everything between them was okay now. But when she caught the sight of Ivan’s neck with angry punctures on it, she let out a horrified gasp. “I… I did that to you? Ivan?”

He only gave her a curt nod.

Her heart twisted with pain and regret. She just fed on her husband. And that was probably the reason why he didn’t want to look at her anymore, for he was revolted with her. He found her disgusting, repulsive and sickening. It hurt her much that Ivan might not love her anymore because of her nature as a vampire.

“Princess,” Lucya said, cutting her train of thoughts. “Do drink this.”

Ana eyed the red drink apprehensively. “No, I’m good. I feel full. How long was I knocked out?”

“If you mean how long you were screaming and shouting and demanding for more blood then, give or take, twelve hours,” Kristoff supplied.

“But I don’t recall anything,” she insisted.

“Well, dear,” her mother started, “that’s because you lost control over your mind. It usually happens for the first twelve to twenty four hours after you finished transitioning.”

“W-what happened? Did I hurt anyone?” She was afraid the blood on her clothes was the blood of her victims. Did she kill anyone? Oh God! What would she do if she did kill someone?

“The only victim in this room was your husband. Nothing to worry; no fatal casualties whatsoever,” Kristoff said. “When you were trying to feed on Ivan, it was the most beautiful, violent display I had ever witnessed. Too bad Ivan didn’t enjoy being part of the show.”

“Oh, do stop now Kristoff,” her mother reprimanded. “You’re worrying your sister.”

“My apologies, sis. Ivan is one fine husband indeed, worried sick to death over your ordeal, blah-blah-blah.”