Kane
Vampire’s don’t have fated mates.
In fact, most people don’t think that vampires even have souls. I’m not sure what I think of that since I was born a vampire. It’s not as if I were once a person who was killed by a vampire and my soul was released to hell or where-have-you, and now I am something else. No, I have always been a vampire, so if I am a soulless, earthbound creature, then so be it.
Right now, I think there is something deep inside of me that is driving me toward Emory Moonraker, though, and I have no idea what it is—but it is persistent.
Back in my room, after I nearly took her on her first night in the castle, I am lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to determine what to do about it.
It’s not true that vampires don’t sleep. We do. I do, anyway. Perhaps there are some that don’t need to, but on average, I need at least five hours of sleep each night to function. Otherwise, I am a monster the next day—literally.
The other rumors about vampires, that they have high sex drives and are into all sorts of kinky things in the bedroom are true to different levels. I believe I fall somewhere above average but am nothing like my brother—or Opal.
The thought makes me wonder if my brother is fucking my fiancée.
He pretends to hate her whenever she’s not around but still seeks her out. He escorts her to dinner every night, along with her brother, who is into anything and everything in the bedroom…. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lex isn’t fucking Opal.
Tossing an arm across my forehead, I wonder why I care and decide it is only because I don’t like the idea that they are doing something so intimate behind my back. People that will screw each other behind your back are more likely to throw daggers when you’re not looking as well, and while my brother can say it doesn’t matter to him that he’ll never rule, I know that he actually does care. He does have designs to be king. If he could get Opal pregnant before me, he would at least solidify his own child’s place on the throne, assuming I never find anyone else to bare me children.
It's all too much to think about, so I don’t.
Nor do I want to think about that bastard Clark….
Putting him on house arrest doesn’t seem like enough. I should’ve ripped his fucking head off. Especially after his response to, “Why did you take her to the feeders’ dungeon?” was, “Well, she’s just another fucking bitch feeder. Who the hell cares what happens to her?” I had smacked him across the face hard enough to draw blood. Vampires must be struck very hard to draw blood. Now, I had his mess downstairs to clean up and his problematic ass to deal with.
Really, it had been a shitty day.
Except for Emory herself.
I shift on the bed again, my hand trailing down my bare chest as I think about her, settling my palm just north of the V beneath my boxers. The scent of roses fills my mind; not the ones from the flower garden where Opal was throwing her fit, but rosewater… and lavender.
Emory smelled divine, and the way she looked in that dress…. It was no wonder Rainer couldn’t keep his hands off her.
She was gorgeous, and she had absolutely no idea what she did to every male who looked in her direction. The way she’d handled herself in that prison was impressive, too. I never want to make her mad enough to grab my balls—not like that anyway.
But I had wanted her to touch me, and I knew she wanted me to touch her, too….
I can’t explain what this magnetism is. Why do I ache for her now? The moment is gone. Normally, if I decided not to take a woman in such a moment, it would fade from my memory and become background noise until it dissipated altogether. But now, I find myself replaying those moments with Emory over and over again. The thump of her heart, the feel of her skin, the way her hand felt on mine, her cheek pressed to my face, her fingers streaming through my hair.
It's all I can do to keep my hand still as I harden beneath the sheets.
I know I’ve done the right thing in walking away from her. She is emotional and exhausted. Her entire world has been torn apart, and it will take some time for it to be put back together. I may own her, but only as a feeder. She is not my whore. I can’t make her feel obligated to service me in that way, and I know, if I try to feed off of her, I will not be able to control myself. The rush of placing my lips on her body will drive me toward an unbridled lust I will not be able to control.
I can’t fight my body anymore. With an image of her beautiful face in my mind, my hand dips below my waistband, and I thrust into my palm, thinking of how exquisite it would feel if it were her hand or her mouth on my body.
When I hit my release, it comes hard, but I can only imagine that if I were actually with her, instead of all alone, it would be earth-shattering.
Satisfied and exhausted, I clean up and then roll over, determined to sleep. My hope is that the morning will bring new clarity to all of us, and she can figure out where she belongs in this new life. She is the daughter of my enemy, likely has her own fated mate back home, and I am engaged to a she-demon.
Wherever her place is, it’s likely best if it isn’t in my arms. But one thing about vampires that usually is true is that we are selfish creatures who have trouble with impulsivity.
And right now, all of my impulses are telling me I need that woman in my mouth and in my bed.
* * *
Emory
I slept well, despite my new surroundings and all of the confusion that washes over me every time I close my eyes. My body was just exhausted the night before, so when I lay down in my bed, after King Kane left, I immediately went to sleep, and now, as I open my eyes and blink a few times, I realize I’ve slept longer than usual. The clock says it’s past 9:00 in the morning. I am usually up by 6:00.
Trying not to think about everything that happened the day before, I take a shower and get dressed. I decide to pin my hair up off my neck, which is probably not the wisest decision in a castle full of vampires, but it seems like a warm day outside for this part of the world, and the sun is actually shining. My understanding is that it is almost always cloudy here, as it was yesterday when I’d arrived. If there’d been any sun the day before, I hadn’t noticed, though I had spent some time beneath the ground.
My eyes wander over the makeup the ladies brought the other day, and I decide to put on just a little. I have no idea what I’m doing, but when I’m finished, I decide I look presentable.
I’m also starving.
I am about to go knock on the door to the maids’ room when mine opens. Nellie is there with a tray. “Oh, good. You’re awake now,” she says, bringing it in and setting it on the table. “We came by earlier, but you were still sleeping.” Helga follows her in, gives me a curt nod, and heads to the bathroom, to clean I suppose.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was very tired.”
“That’s understandable. We brought you some food.” She gives me a reassuring smile.
I can smell the bacon and eggs and move to the table. Since I hadn’t eaten much the day before, I am famished.
As I eat, the two of them clean the room, and by the time I’m done, it’s pristine again. They are quite fast and accurate.
“What would you like to do today?” Nellie asks me.
I arch an eyebrow. I have just assumed my job is to stay in this room, since I am a prisoner, and just wait for the king to want to feed on me—or whomever he allows to do so. “Do?” I ask.
She nods. “It’s a beautiful day outside. We could go for a walk in the garden.”
“Am I allowed to do that?” I ask her.
She giggles. “Of course. And you’re dressed for it.”
I glance down at my red sundress and strappy sandals. “All right,” I say. “As long as you’re sure the king won’t mind.”
“No, he won’t. He gave a decree yesterday that no one can harm you, so you shouldn’t worry about that either.”
She seems very confident that everyone listens to the king. I hope that is the case. In my pack, as far as listening to the Alpha is concerned, it’s more of a question of will one get caught.
Nellie and I go out to the garden, through the door that Rainer showed me the day before. I am beginning to get the layout of the castle a little better now. The sunshine feels good on my skin, and the roses do smell divine. There are other flowers present, too, and Nellie seems to know all of them. As we walk, she tells me their names. I’ve never heard of most of them, but it’s a nice conversation starter, and I can ask her questions about them.
Eventually, I ask her, “How do you know so much about flowers?”
“I use to work in the garden,” she explains. “When I was a human, back when King Michael was our ruler, before he died.”
It takes me a moment to process that. She looks like she is my age. She even acts young—but she’s over a hundred and fifty years old. It’s such a strange concept to me. Wolf shifters live to be about eighty or ninety at the oldest. Lately, thirty has become our median age in my pack because of the war.
“How did you become a vampire?” I ask her.
“The gardener, Mr. Castaneda, took a liking to me.” She speaks of it now like it’s nothing. “He bit me… even though it was against the rules. He was killed for it, but Queen Agatha allowed me to live. She had always liked me.”
“I didn’t realize a person could be in trouble for being turned into a vampire,” I stated as we made our way down the cobblestone path that twined between the flowers.
She nods. “Oh, yes. King Michael was very strict about population control. Back then, it was difficult to get blood to feed the vampires in the villages. Now, it’s no problem because we are wealthy enough to buy it, but much of the wealth of the pack has come under King Kane’s reign, not his father.”
I am about to respond when I hear a snapping sound and look down to see my shoe strap has broken. “Oh, no,” I mutter.
“What is it?” Nellie asks, dropping down to look. “These are new!” she declares.
Sighing, I hobble to a bench. “I guess I’ll just take them off and go back inside.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Nellie says, standing next to me. “I’ll run in and get you some new shoes.”
“You don’t have to do that—”
“You are enjoying the garden and the sunshine.” She lovingly pats my arm. “I’ll be right back.”
I smile my thanks, and she takes off like lightning.
Sighing, I look around me. It is quite lovely and secluded here. This would be a wonderful spot to get lost in a book.
Just as I begin to daydream about sitting here, reading a nice romance novel, I hear voices and realize I’m not alone. I recognize them a moment too late for me to get up and dart away, even with my broken shoe.
Opal appears from around the corner, flanked by a bunch of other vampire women, with her brother and Prince Lex as well.
“What do we have here?” she says, a snide smile on her face. “If it isn’t the fucking feeder bitch.”
I am in trouble.