Under the vampire Lord's protection-Chapter 543: Uncanny

"Such a beautiful smile," the masculine voice that spoke those words was familiar but certainly did not belong to Silas, "What or who is it for?"

Silas’ lips didn’t even move. Arabella’s eyes widened as the whistling of wind heightened in the distance, gliding their way inch by inch.

Silas turned around towards the noise then looked back to her, "I am not ready to split from you yet," his hands clutched at her figure as if it were dear life.

"I am being summoned on the other side," she murmured, "It cannot be helped," the young woman rubbed her face on her husband’s chest one last time before he vanished.

"I will find you again. That is a promise," the man declared just as the howling wind hit their twined bodies.

Opening her eyes once more brought no delight for no silver hair greeted her. Instead, black hair and more so black eyes came into view.

Arabella immediately flinched back, doing her best to move into a sitting position, but the drapes covering her fell, slapping reality right back across her face.

"Did you dream of him?" Atticus lay by her side, terrifyingly following her every move without blinking.

She clamped up, biting at her own lips as her eyes burned holes into her shaky hands.

"Do not lie to me," his voice went lower, somehow deeper, causing her chest to rumble.

In response, Arabella nodded profusely, the first tears after her sleep falling.

"What did he say to you?"

Her entire body trembled, recoiling the instant the back of his hand connected with her cheek, caressing at it so very softly.

His arm followed her movement without missing a beat and remained against her skin, stroking at will.

"He... He said nothing. He just held me," her biggest surprise was putting a cohesive sentence together, considering her state.

"How did he hold you?" he practically whispered, bringing his lips inches from her face.

There he went again... Making her skin crawl with his eerie need to recreate every little memory of hers and her husbands’ down to the ’z’.

"I...,"

How to even describe it with proper terms?

Seeing her struggle, Atticus closed in on her, confidently yet awkwardly wrapping his arms around her.

"Was it like so?" his hand ended behind her head which he pressed to his own chest.

"It was," her muffled murmur rose.

Even though it wasn’t, there was no valid reason for him to know. Let him be happy thinking he got it right the first time around.

Their embrace lasted until a knock landed upon the bedroom door and as Atticus grunted in frustration, releasing her figure to go stand on his feet, Arabella instantly turned her face away.

She had had enough contact with his naked body, looking at it was a lot less than necessary.

"Do come in," the General declared upon putting the under layer of his armor on.

A new, well fitted servant made his appearance inside the room only to bow before speaking, "High General Atticus, his highness, the crown prince wishes that you regain the training camps right this second," the servant quickly bowed again, null doubt seeing the darkened glare in Atticus’ eyes.

"In what honor am I to go there?" the General continued to put his armor on at his leisure.

"His grace has ordered that you speak to the troops and raise their morale for what’s to come,"

"I see," after picking his belt and sword, he added, "Leave," he ordered the servant, "You may remain here for the time being and rest until you are called. I cannot control what the prince does with you but with time, that too will change,"

Although those words weren’t necessarily cryptic, they still made Arabella question things about him.

The sound of the door shutting behind him blared, filling every crevice of that vast room and recosherting against every wall.

Only, the silence that came after did not last as the door burst open a second time, rattling all bodies within that space, living or otherwise.

Zarah, with a contorted face, stormed her way and asked no question before raising her hand as high as possible then hurling it down towards Arabella’s cheek.

The blow was so deep, it snapped the young woman back into a reclined position to spit the blood of her cut open lips against the sheets.

"You filthy whore dared remove your collar off!" the old hag shrieked.

"I... I didn’t...," she whimpered.

But Zarah waited for nothing and dragged her by the hair to the ground, pulling her head up for their gazes to meet, "You look well rested. Have you been sleeping this whole time? You even took a bath! You...!" that last word came out as a growl, "Submit!" she ordered.

Arabella immediately spread her knees and put her hands and forehead to the floor while arching her back.

Zarah walked behind her and without a warning shoved a finger up her pussy, wiggling it against her inner walls for a while before pulling it back out at once.

After a second of quiet, the old hag gave a satisfactory hum, "At the very least your cunt was put to good use,"

Zarah moved around until the ringing and clinking of something metallic resounded, informing Arabella that she had picked up the collar.

"Rise back to a sitting position and lift up your hair," she demanded.

As soon as the young woman obeyed, the collar was, not so gently, clasped back around her throat.

"I can’t allow the prince to see you without his gift now, can I?"

After that, the tugging began... Merciless in nature just like before, forcing Arabella to crawl behind the hag.

"You’ve rested enough," she said, "His highness wants to see you. Be grateful for the attention he gives a worthless whore such as you,"

She needn’t say more. Those words sufficed to make her stomach churn, twist and battle air.

What sort of new torturous hell was he going to put her through, to punish her just for the simple crime of breathing?