Broken (The Captive #5.5)(7)

Her raven eyes flickered over his clothes as her forehead furrowed. He didn't know what he was expecting as a response, something terse and indifferent, maybe even no response at all, but when she spoke she didn't respond in either of those ways. "Sometimes we are all lost, at one point in time or another in our lives."

He found himself entranced by her peculiar insight. "I suppose we are. What happens if we are never found though?"

"Well." She stepped away from the tree and climbed gracefully down a couple of rocks so that she was level with him. "I like to believe that there's always something, or someone, that will help us find our way."

"And what happens if we don't recognize the help when we find that something or someone?"

"Then fate hits us over the head until it wakes us up."

He chuckled at her answer but he had to force himself to keep his hands down by his side as the urge to push the hood back from her face took hold of him. "And what happens if we find it but then lose it again?"

Her smile slid away as she frowned thoughtfully. "Well I suppose that would be a sad life then wouldn't it? To be forever lost."

"I suppose it would," he agreed, but lately he felt like he would be lost forever.

He didn't belong amongst the vampires, or at least not where his father thought he belonged. The idea of sitting in a room and arguing with a bunch of powerful, greedy old vampires made him consider running as far as he could, but he knew that would never be possible. If something were to happen to his father, he would have to step forward to take his place. Immortals weren't immortal, not when they were climbing over top of one another, killing kings, and stabbing each other in the back in order to gain more power.

As much as he didn't want to take his father's place, it was a fact that he had resigned himself to years ago. Rogue vampires were hunted as it was, if he were to ever try and shirk his duties by disappearing, he would be pursued relentlessly.

There were far more pleasant things to think about now though, he realized as she shifted before him. His gaze flickered past her but he didn't detect the aroma of roses amongst the trees. "Where is your sister?" he inquired.

Her shoulders went back, her jaw clenched as her hands folded before her. "She is not with me today, milord."

The use of the word milord and the terse tone of her voice surprised him. He didn't know what he had done to provoke her. He would have thought that perhaps she was jealous of her sister and his question had pricked that jealousy. That wasn't the impression he got from her though as she shifted her stance to a position that was more protective and her hands unfolded to fall before her.

"Where is she?" It probably would have been better to change the topic but he liked the fire in her eyes as she stood before him. Most were so afraid of him and his heritage that they didn't dare defy him or glare at him as if they were about to slap him, she was doing exactly that and he found her amusing.

"In the village. I'll give her your regards."

She went to step away from him but his hand shot out before he could stop it. His fingers touched together as they encircled her bicep. Through the thick material of the clothing she wore, he could feel the tightening of muscle beneath his touch. Her mouth parted, her eyes reminded him of those of a cornered deer when they flew up to his. She remained rigid in his grasp but she didn't try to pull away from him. Her gaze fell briefly to his lips before flying back up to meet his.

Her eyes on his mouth had caused his hand to clench involuntarily around her arm. He almost pulled her a step closer but he was concerned that she would bolt if he did. The aroma of asters became stronger as her gaze fell to his mouth again. He inhaled her sweet scent and instinctively leaned closer to her. Never in his life had he craved the feel of a woman's skin as badly as he craved hers right now, but still he kept a safe distance so he didn't frighten her with his intensity.

"What are you doing out here?" he inquired.

Her hand fluttered up to brush back her dampened hair. "I like to walk in the woods."

"I'll walk with you."

***

Genny didn't know how to respond to that. The idea of walking with him was entirely exciting and intriguing but she knew it could also be risky. It had been awhile since she'd had anything to do with the aristocratic vampires; Marie had once dated a servant employed by a nobleman and they'd stayed in the manor for a month before the relationship had fallen apart. She had barely interacted with the lord and lady of the manor but what she remembered of them was that they were condescending, egotistical, and sometimes cruel. She'd encountered a few nobles that had seemed decent but they'd been few and far between.

She wanted to believe that he was kind; especially when he was staring at her with those beautiful eyes that were so piercing she found she couldn't look away from them. His shoulder length black hair hung in damp tendrils around his broad cheekbones. He was exceedingly handsome with his stubble-roughened square jaw, thin-bridged nose, full mouth, and carved cheekbones.

But handsome didn't equal kind, that was a lesson she'd learned often over the years. Marie had been one of the most beautiful women Genny had ever seen, but there was no soul beneath her mother's faultless exterior. She supposed, to many, Marie would still be considered beautiful but Genny now found her to be the ugliest woman she'd ever encountered.