The Broken Warrior’s Daughter by Cooper novel Chapter 160

Chapter 0160 

Trigger Warning: The chapter contains scenes of violence and sexual abuse. 

The vampire leader carried me to a car and put me in the trunk. He duct taped my mouth before closing me in. 

Once I am alone in the dark, I let the tears fall. I have no idea what I’m going to do, but I know no one is coming to help me. My parents, my heart aches as I think them, Alessia howling mournfully in my head. My parents are dead. The only person that knows about me is Jude, and if my previous pack finds my parents, they will assume that I am dead as well. 

I have no idea why this lead vampire thinks the prince of vampires would want me. It’s well known that vampires do not like the taste of werewolf blood, generally keeping us safe from them, unless we stumble into their territory. But when that vampire tasted my blood, he didn’t seem repulsed. Just the opposite. And I don’t know what it was that he said, but the way he said it gave me goose bumps. Whatever it is, it can’t be good for me. 

I don’t know how long we drive before we stop. When the trunk opens, I’m ready to jump out, not that I’ll get far with my arms and legs bound, but I have to try. However, the vampire anticipates me and snatches me out of mid–air. 

“Not so fast, my tasty treat. I have big plans for you. And if you play your cards right, perhaps Prince Keenan will keep you alive as a blood bag.” A blood bag? Death would be preferable. 

He carries me over his shoulder again. We walk toward a building that you would expect to be owned by vampires. It’s dark, gloomy, and gothic looking. Gargoyles at the corners of what looks like an old castle. The only lights that I can see from inside look red and cruel, like what I’d expect in a low–class brothel. 

When we walk in, the screams that are coming from somewhere in front of me make my blood run cold. It’s the sound of pain and fear and death. Along with that sound is the sickening sound of lustful grunting, slurping and flesh being ripped apart presumably by sharp teeth. 

I don’t know what to expect, but when I’m put on my feet, I’m in a room filled with vampires and humans. The smell of blood and death is nearly overwhelming to my sensitive nose. The fear is so palpable that it feels like you could cut it with a knife. 

I’m turned to face a vampire on a throne. Again, it feels so cliché that if I wasn’t disgusted by what is going on around me, I’d laugh. The throne is metal the color 

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+15 BONOS 

of pewter covered in a blood red cushioning across the back, seat and arm rests. I can’t tell how tall the vampire is, I’m assuming he’s the prince, but the chair back sits about six inches higher than his head. 

It takes the vampire prince a moment to acknowledge us. His eyes are closed and he is sucking on the wrist of a young man who is going pale and having trouble standing while a female, I can’t tell her age, is being forced to go down on him. He has a grip on her head and is shoving himself into her mouth at a brutal pace. I can see her fists punching against his legs as I watch his body tense up and he holds her there until she stops fighting. Once he’s finished, he pulls her off and she drops to the floor, dead. I realize he just suffocated her while he orgasmed in her mouth.