I scramble to my feet and pull on the door handle. It won't budge. My arms ache from breaking my fall, but I push through the discomfort and bang on the door. "Let me out! I know you're-"

"Slave," a voice calls from behind.

My heart falls into my stomach. My body tenses, and I slowly turn around. The bald vampire is sitting on an old grey bed on the other side of the room. I'm trapped in here with him.

My senses are overwhelmed by the bedrooms putrid smell. Sunlight peeks through the cracks in the boarded-up window above the bed. His leather coat hangs over the lone chair in the corner.

I'm frozen.

"You appear confused," he says, feigning concern with a hint of malice hidden underneath. "'Tis cute."

He rises to his feet, and I step back. He approaches, and my back presses flat against the door. There's nowhere to go. He is huge – a head taller than me, with arms almost the size of my legs.

"You're flustered," he says. "Is it... desire?"

I jerk away as his grubby fingers reach for my hair.

His expression hardens. "Kneel, slave."

No. I shake my head, trembling.

His fist slams into my stomach, crushing my abdomen between his knuckles and the door. I fall to the ground and gasp for air. My arms snap to my middle as the pain radiates through my core. His blow reignites the bruises from Rahlan's assault.

"Your head says no," he begins, "but your breathing is more honest."

I push myself to sit up, keeping my balance with one arm and holding my burning stomach with the other. My neck cranes to meet his gaze.

"Lucky for you, disobedient human whores are my favorite."

No. Not this.

"Your kind needs to learn where they belong." He grabs my arms and throws me face first on the bed. The impact sends a new shock of pain through my stomach. I try curl up to protect myself, but he flips me on my back and wraps his fingers around my neck. I can barely get any air in. I pull against his grip, but it's fruitless.

He leans over me, and the bed sinks with his weight. "Don't worry," he says. His fingers curl under my pants' waistband. I hate the feeling of his rough skin against mine. "You'll enjoy this, whore."

No. I grip my pants with both hands.

He yanks hard, and my belt bites into my skin, making me groan. I try dislodging his fingers, but he grabs my wrist instead. My neck is released so he can catch my other wrist and force them together.

I try desperately to pull my hands apart. He wraps a finger around each wrist to hold them stationary with just one hand, trapping both my arms above my head.

He yanks at my pants again. I can't get my arms free. I squirm under his grip, jerking my whole body from side to side. Anything to keep his hands off me.

He yanks again, my belt snaps and my pants tear.

"No!"

He rips them further, tearing them completely off. Cold air rushes over my skin.

He straddles me, trapping my legs under his heavy body. I lift my head, and my breath catches in my throat. My shoes and underwear are the only clothing left below my waist.

His nails scrape against my skin as he grabs my shirt. One hard pull tears my shirt off my body, leaving just my bra behind.

"You are lucky that you were even allowed to live," he says. "Welcome to the rest of your pathetic miserable life."

He presses his legs between mine, forcing them apart. I turn my head and shut my eyes. I shut out the world around me. I don't want this. I don't want this. I'm not here. It's not real.

"Look at me."

I stay still.

"Look at me!" He yanks my hair, making my scalp sting.

My eyes open, focusing on the rotting wooden ceiling and letting his face remain a blur.

"Beg."

What?

"Beg to be defiled, whore!"

Tears well up in my eyes.

He pulls my hands back down to my stomach, and a hard slap hits my face.

"Beg me! Beg me to take you!" He slaps my stinging cheek again. I can't take this anymore. I can't. He ripped up my clothes. I'll be like the humans by that corner table. It's going to be like this forever. Tears roll down my cheeks, and I start to cry.

He pulls my hair to cause me further pain. I sob aloud, not caring who hears. I've got nothing left.

He slaps me again, and again, and again. I cry louder and louder, keeping my eyes closed.

He releases my wrists and jumps off the bed. I snap my legs together and curl up into a ball.

His arms wrap around my small form and lift me into the air, pressing me against his chest.

"You crook!" the man shouts. His voice isn't above me, it's below. I open my eyes. The bald man is on the floor, struggling to get up without tripping over himself.

Who's holding me? I don't need to look up. I recognize the leather coat. It's no knight in shining armor. It's no hero. It's Rahlan, the vampire who decided I was worth less than a horse.

I curl into myself and hide my eyes behind my arm. Maybe they're right. Maybe this is my place in this new vampire world. A new wave of tears washes over me, and I press my face into my arms.

Rahlan wraps his dark cape over me, shielding my body from the outside world. I bob up and down with his rhythmic steps. The tobacco smoke and incomprehensible murmuring returns as he steps into the bar section of this wretched place.

"Return the silver," the barman says.

Rahlan adjusts his posture to hold me with one arm. The coins jingle as he drops them on the bar counter.

Sunlight pierces through my cocoon's threading as he steps outside. The gravel crunches beneath his feet, and the smoky smell fades away.

What's next? Am I going to be fed to wild animals, or be used to test a sword's sharpness? I don't even want to know what awfulness awaits me.

He walks further before placing me on a log. The sharp bark irritates my backside. His cape is pulled away, exposing me to everyone. My eyes stay shut. I don't want to know how many vampires are watching me sob in my pathetic state. I can't stop whatever he wants to do to me, but at least I can spare myself the torture of watching it unfold.

The jeers don't come. It's almost silent other than chirping birds and the occasional gust of wind.

I peek my eyes open. The world is blurry, but the blotches of green leaves mean that we're far from the trade post. It's a forest, and it's just the two of us.

He steps back, and my gaze drifts to the dead leaves by my feet.

I hug my bare middle. Why couldn't Jacob be here instead of this vampire? There were many tearful nights when Mom passed on. Jacob was always there for me, especially when times were tough. I need him now more than ever.

Rahlan holds out an apple for me to take, but my gaze lingers on the leaves below. The bald vampire's words play over and over again in my head – 'slave, pathetic, lucky to be alive'. I've never felt so low.

I watch the leaves dance in the wind. My sobbing dies down as time passes. The forest is peaceful, a beautiful place untouched by man or vampire.

"Do you have the strength to stand?" Rahlan asks.

I rise up on shaky legs. His hands snap to my side to help me up, and I cringe at the feeling of his cold fingers on my skin.

He quickly steps back, noticing my discomfort. He gestures for me to follow him.

The leaves crunch under our feet as we continue north through the forest. My stomach aches from the fresh assault, and we've adopted a slower pace to compensate. He took the bag instead of forcing me to carry it, and he left my arms free. Maybe he thought I'd lose it if he bound me now.

It plays over and over in my head. That man. That place. Rahlan.

"How could you do that?" I spit, "Was kidnapping me, beating me and leeching my blood not enough?"

His gait doesn't falter. He's not bothered.

"You're a monster," I mumble under my breath.

He grabs my arm, forcing me to my toes. "Grow up. You're a slave. I couldn't care less."

I return his glare. His eyes run up and down my body, before letting me back on the ground.

* * * * * * * *

The forest opens up to badlands with rolling rocky hills. Night falls, and we stop at a small cave. I take the nearest rock as my seat, not wanting to spend another minute standing. We've been walking over sharp rocky hills for hours, and my feet are killing me.

He unrolls his sleeping pouch but makes no effort to start a fire. I begin collecting kindling off the ground, figuring I'll need it more than him. Sticks and dry leaves are few and far between in this desolate place.

"There'll be no fire tonight," he says.

"I'll build it myself," I say without pausing my search.

He grabs my arm, making the kindling fall to the ground. "No fire."

"Why?"

He clenches his jaw, annoyed that I question him. "It draws attention."

Just like the candle's flame drew him to me. I rip my arm away from him and find a nook in the cave wall.

The temperature is rapidly dropping due to the absent sun, and the cold air nips at my exposed skin. I lean against the rock and hug my abdomen to try retain some heat. I'm in nothing but a bra, shoes and underwear. My knees curl up close, and I rub my sides up and down.

"Why do you do that?" Rahlan asks from his fluffy sleeping pouch.

"To warm myself up."

"Is it working?"

I ignore his taunt and nudge further into the rock.

"Come here," he says, sitting up right.

I approach with one arm holding the other. Am I in trouble?

"Get in."

What?

He pulls up the edge of the sleeping pouch, making room for me beside him.

I hesitate. His hand holding it open reveals its white fluffy wool. It looks warm, soft and cozy. I bite my lip and eventually convince myself to crawl inside.

I've never felt bedding like this, soft as a kitten's fur. It must've cost a fortune.

There's barely enough room for the both of us, and he takes up the large majority. His leather coat is pressed up against the length of my body. I'm a little squashed, but it's incredibly warm in here. I snuggle deeper into the pouch, bringing the rim up to my nose. This is nice.

It begins to dawn on me that I'm snuggling up against my captor. The thought would've petrified me a few days ago. Though he's not reluctant to beat me, he has never attacked me in my sleep. I suppose I trust him a little.

He said he doesn't care about me, but he's sharing his pouch, and he changed his mind about selling me. It's been on my mind for hours.

"I was just wondering... why did you come back?" I ask.

The night is silent, no insects chirp in this rocky place.

"I heard you," he finally says.

That wasn't what I meant, but his reluctance to answer makes me refrain from prodding further.