Page 18 of Blood Caged

He doesn’t rise to the bait, simply regarding me with that infuriatingly impassive stare. “Your comfort and safety are assured as long as you cooperate.”

“And if I don’t?” I challenge.

Something flickers in his eyes. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

I feel my blood boiling at his smug demeanor. How dare he stand there, so calm and collected, while I’m trapped in this magical prison? I can’t let him see how rattled I am. I need to regain some control.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” I snarl, taking a step closer to him. Close enough to pick up his scent, which is oddly warm and woodsy. “When my family finds out—”

To my utter frustration, his lips curl into the faintest hint of a smirk. “I assure you, we’re quite prepared for any…retaliation.”

His amusement sends a surge of rage through me. Does he think this is funny? That my family’s power is some kind of joke?

“You arrogant bastard,” I hiss. “You have no clue who you’re dealing with. The Blackwoods aren’t just any coven. We’re—”

“Your lineage is none of my concern, Miss Blackwood,” he interrupts smoothly. “We’re quite prepared for any kind of assault.”

That throws me for a loop, but I push past my confusion. I won’t let him see me falter.

“Well, you should know better than to cross us,” I warn, my voice low and dangerous. “When they come for me – and they will come – you’ll wish you’d never heard the name Blackwood.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking utterly unimpressed. “Is that so?”

I glare at him, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. “I suppose kidnapping witches is just another day for you bloodsuckers.”

His expression doesn’t change, but there’s a hint of…something in his eyes. Amusement? “You’d be surprised how infrequently it occurs on my schedule.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I snap back. “What, do you pencil it in between ‘draining innocents’ and ‘brooding in dark corners’?”

“Your assumptions about vampires are rather…quaint.”

I scoff. “Quaint? That’s rich coming from someone who probably still thinks corsets are the height of fashion.”

“I assure you, my wardrobe is quite up to date.”

Without thinking, I run an eye over him. His tailored black suit fits like it was made for him. Probably was.

Asshole.

“Congratulations,” I retort dryly. “Now, are you going to tell me who you are, or should I just keep calling you ‘Tall, Dark, and Bloodthirsty’ in my head?”

To my surprise, he inclines his head slightly. “My apologies for the oversight. I am Soren Daire.”

The name means nothing to me, but I file it away for future reference. “Well, Soren Daire,” I say, injecting as much venom into his name as possible, “I hope you’re proud of yourself. Kidnapping a witch, holding her against her will – that’s some real heroic behavior right there.”

I glare at him, anger warring with an unwelcome surge of attraction. Damn him and his vampire allure. My body betrays me, responding to his presence in ways I can’t control.

“Heroism is not part of my job.” Soren’s intense gaze locks with mine and I feel a jolt of electricity run through me. I want to look away, to maintain my composure, but I’m caught in his magnetic pull.

Dammit, Mia. He’s the enemy, no matter how unfairly gorgeous he is.

I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms. The pain helps ground me, reminds me of the reality of my situation. This man – this vampire – is my captor. It doesn’t matter how striking his midnight-blue eyes are, or how his voice lifts the tiny hairs on my skin. He’s dangerous, and I can’t let myself forget that for a second.

But my traitorous body doesn’t seem to care about the danger. There’s an undeniable pull. When he moves closer, I have to fight the urge to lean in, to breathe in more of his intoxicating scent.

I hate this. I hate him. And I hate myself for feeling even a shred of attraction.

“Is there a problem, Miss Blackwood?” Soren asks.

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