I glared at the far too bright walls that I felt were closing in on me more and more by the hour. My bare legs were exposed to the cold breeze coming in from the window, causing me to shiver slightly.

There was a tentative knock on my door, which I promptly ignored.

Another maid brought in a tray of food for me and placed it on the table closest to the window seat I wanna currently sprawled upon. I'd been sitting here since Jaxon had dragged me into this room last night.

Fucker.

God knows my parents must be worried sick right now. My brother, Aaron, is probably close to losing his shit, while I'm forced to sit here locked in this stupid room.

“Miss, please, you have to eat. Prince Jaxon—”

Upon the mention of his name I promptly began hurling all the items off of the tray at the wall.

"Fuck your Prince Jaxon."

That statement could probably get me executed for treason, but damn if it wasn't satisfying to say it aloud.

The maid bolted out the door.

Papa had always said that vampires were a bunch of devils. I never thought I'd have to see the truth of his words up close.

I tossed the stupid vase on my nightstand across the room and it smashed into the wall.

Stupid vase. Stupid flowers. Stupid fancy room.

I wanted to scream.

My hand was reaching for the water pitcher on the dresser when his royal prickliness himself charged into the room.

“Chill the fuck out.” He grabbed my arm to keep me from hurling the pitcher at the ground.

“Don't touch me,” I hissed.

Jaxon let his hands drop to his sides.

Good.

Just to be a petty bitch, I threw the water pitcher to the ground, staring Jaxon in the eyes as I did so. It shattered to a thousand tiny pieces of glass.

Much to my disappointment, I only saw a flicker of amusement in his expression.

Dio mio, he must be psychotic.

Why else would he choose such an obviously unwilling girl to be his... I couldn't even think the word.

I placed my hands on my hips. “I’m leaving.”

His blue eyes filled with mirth. “No, love, you aren’t."

“Yes, I am." I narrowed my eyes at him. "And stop fucking calling me that. I'm not your love."

Jaxon took a step closer to me, his hands still at his sides, not quite touching me but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

“I’m starting to think you just like seeing me mad,” he said huskily. “Is that it, Eleanor? You got a thing for hot and angry sex?"

He came even closer to me, leaning in.

"That’s kinky." He looked at me through long lashes. "I don’t mind kinky.”

I slapped him, and the force of it made my hand sting like a bitch. His head turned to the side, a few strands of hair falling into his face, concealing it from my view.

"You don't get to talk to me like I'm one of your whores," I spat.

When he swung his head back to face me, snarling, his eyes were scarlet and his fangs were protruding. I tried to push him off, run away, do something, but he overpowered me easily.

His fangs came chomping down into the sensitive skin of my neck, and I had to grind down on my teeth to keep from screaming. I shoved him and squirmed and kicked out--all to no avail.

He kept draining my blood, his hands digging into my skin, keeping me in place. I was growing light headed and my attempts to fight him were getting weaker. In a last ditch effort, I raised my knee and hit him where it counts.

It was a cheap shot, but it worked.

He grunted, and his hold on me faltered. I used the opportunity to run past him, clutching at the bleeding wound in my neck, but I wasn't fast enough.

He grabbed my ankle and yanked, making me fall to the ground with such force that it made my teeth rattle. He kept dragging me back.

“Aw, I've scared her off,” he said with a mocking laugh.

He flipped me over like I was some rag doll and crawled on top of me, using his body to pin me down to the floor. I met his glare with one of own, my hair falling into my face as I looked up at him.

Something that I couldn't quite put a name to flickered in his eyes. He looked at me like this was his first time seeing me, really seeing me.

“You remind me of her a bit," he murmured. "That’s why I almost feel bad for doing this."

I didn’t have time to ponder over the meaning in his words. He grabbed my arms in a tight grip, and my world was sent spinning.

When everything came into focus again, I realized he'd taken me down to some kind of cellar. My vision was still swimming, so I didn't notice him unlocking a cell until it was too late.

The cold stone wall dug into my back as the metal doors shut in front of me with a clang.

I slammed my hand against the bars repeatedly.

"Where the fuck are you going?" I screamed after Jaxon when he started walking away. "Let me out!"

"Nah, I'm good," he said, then he was gone.

Shit.

I looked around myself.

The cell was barely six feet by five. There was a plank of wood with four legs--the bed, I assumed--in one corner, and an urn and a hole in the ground in the other.

I approached the hole eagerly to see if it could be an escape tool, but quickly realized that it was meant for other uses.

Well.

At least my neck stopped bleeding.