Alpha’s Blood: A Vampire Shifter Romance

by Rose, Renee

  “Do you know this?” He signals, pointing two fingers to the floor in a V-shape.

  In answer I rock my legs apart.

  “Almost.” Amusement tinges his voice. “Chin and chest up. Lock your hands behind your head.”

  I obey and the jacket falls open. My nipples are pointed straight at him.

  “Cold, pet?”

  I lick my lips before I answer. “A little.” My voice is high and breathy.

  Face thoughtful, he rolls up his sleeves, exposing strong forearms dusted with dark hair. My mouth goes dry. He motions for me to turn in a circle. I pivot, unsure at how much he can see while I’m wearing the jacket.

  “This is your first time at auction?”

  “Yes, sir.” I blink at a spot above his head.

  “You may look at me.”

  I obey without thinking. His eyes are twin dark pools; I fall in and drown.

  “Such a beautiful wolf,” he croons. “I will have to get you to shift for me. Soon. What color is your animal?”

  I heave a breath. “White.”

  “Nervous?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You needn’t be,” he murmurs. “I don’t bite.” Even as he says it his fangs flash. “Much.”

  My stomach flip flops and I fight to swallow.

  Steepling his long fingers, Frangelico cocks his head to the left. “You haven’t been touched?”

  I shake my head. “No, sir.”

  Something flashes in his face. “Not blooded? Not even once?”

  Throat too dry to answer, I shake my head.

  He stands. I rock backwards, unable to keep from retreating. He’s huge, taller than me by a fair amount, his shoulders broad as Xavier’s. If he’s thousands of years old, he must have been considered a giant when he was human. He looks down at me and I’m Alice in Wonderland, shrunk down. I’m a toy, a doll. I can only hope he doesn’t break me.

  A flash of white and I flinch.

  “Easy, pet.” He shows me the white handkerchief, amused again. It’s easy to think other’s fear is funny when you’re the most powerful person in the room. I hold tight to my resentment as he gently rubs my lipstick away.

  “There,” he murmurs. “That’s better.” By the time he’s done, the linen square is streaked with red. His scent envelops me and I lean closer, drinking it in. His cologne must be specially formulated to intoxicate a victim. I’ve never been this drawn to a vampire. Or any male, for that matter.

  “Stay,” he orders and moves around me. I should hate the way he orders me around like a dog, but I’m used to it. Most vampires treat shifters like dumb animals.

  The Vampire King moves around me. Prickles go up my spine. The panicked voice in the back of my head warns me of a large predator behind me. I have to close my eyes and will myself to stand still. This is what Lucius bought and paid for: the right to touch me at will.

  Long moments pass and he doesn’t touch me. Finally--a soft tug on my head and a coil of hair falls. He’s removing the pins in my hair, one by one. The braid comes undone, easing off my head and I sigh at the lessened weight. My hair cascades down my back, almost to my bottom. I rarely cut it.

  Lucius’ hand sifts through the thick tresses. Despite everything, the tension in my neck eases at his touch. He’s petting me. I...don’t hate it.

  “Very good, pet,” he murmurs. I raise my head. How long have I been standing here, letting him stroke my hair? Tingles spread through my body, anticipating those strong and gentle hands touching other parts of me.

  Then he clamps a hand on the back of my neck and I go still. My pulse hammers under his thumb.

  “You’re doing well, pet. Someone has trained you. What I want to know is...who?”

  My breath gusts out of me. Xavier and I concocted a story for this. Not far from the truth--not enough that anyone can tell I’m lying. “The vampires who took me from my pack. They taught me how to be a sweetblood.”

  “Interesting.” His fingers reaffirm their grip. “Why did you join the auction?”

  I gulp. “For the good of my pack.” To avenge them.

  “You allowed them to sell you?” His voice communicates disbelief.

  “I went willingly, yes. I was sixteen.”

  “You’ve been in training this whole time?”

  “Not to be a sweetblood. Not until I turned eighteen.” I itch to turn and face him. “Before that, I was allowed to finish school. I was homeschooled.”

  “Sixteen years old.” Frangelico muses. “And your pack let you go?”

  “I was in foster care. My immediate family was dead.” My voice is flat.

  Frangelico drops his hand and steps away, returning to his seat. He signals and I obey, dropping to my knees beside his chair.

  “My people are at this moment interrogating everyone involved in this auction. They will verify what you say. It’s not that I don’t believe you, but,” he waves a hand. “I’ve been the target of more assassination attempts than I can count.”

  My blood runs cold. Does he suspect me?

  “You needn’t fear, pet. If everything checks out, no harm will come to you or your pack.”

  I stare at him. I know Xavier is smart enough to cover his tracks, but I hadn’t guessed Frangelico would be so paranoid from the get go. I shouldn’t be surprised. There’s a reason he’s still alive after hundreds, maybe thousands of years.

  It’s one thing to know that rationally. It’s another to look into the eyes of an opponent who’s stronger, faster, older and more knowledgeable than you, and make your next move.

  One moment, Xavier told me. One moment where he lets down his guard. That’s all you need. Just a few seconds and a stake. If I can make the killing blow, Xavier will find a way to make sure the Vampire King’s organization is dismantled, their evil work finished for good. Xavier promised me that much. I just have to do my part, win Frangelico’s trust long enough for him to give me an opportunity. What happens after is not my concern.

  I never expected to come out of this mission alive.

  Lucius toys with a lock of my hair, rubbing the silky strands between his fingers.

  I take a deep breath. I should play the passive and meek submissive, but I can’t stand to wait any longer. “Sir...may I ask...what are you going to do with me?”

  He smiles and I quiver in response, a tuning fork plucked and playing a perfect note, just for him. “Why, pet, I’m so glad you asked.” For the first time, he lays his hand against my cheek, touching my skin. My heart leaps into my throat as his dark eyes bore into me.

  “First I’m going to take you home. Then, I’m going to make you mine.”

  I swallow hard. His thumb plays across my lips.

  “Now.” he sits back and signals. It takes me a moment to recognize the sign. I scoot back and go to all fours.

  “Turn around,” he murmurs and signals again. Slowly, I obey, crawling to face away from him and lowering my chest to the carpet. I rest my head on my arms. My hair pools around me, a white curtain I can hide behind. The suit jacket slides down my back, exposing my upraised ass.

  His shoe nudges the inside of my right knee. “Wider, pet.”

  My entire backside is naked and vulnerable, and pointed straight towards him. I’ve never felt more like chattel. Sucking in a breath, I wait.

  His hand ghosts up the back of my thigh. Not touching but I can feel it there. My skin prickles in its wake.

  Breathe, just breathe.

  “Arch your back. Further. That’s it.” My entire backside tilts skyward. I’m a mannequin, a china doll, frozen in place, perfectly on display.

  “Beautiful.” Hot breath hits my nethers. My breath leaves my body. “So very beautiful. You’re wet, Selene.”

  And I am. I press my lips together.

  “Reach back and hold your bottom open,” he orders, calm and casual as if remarking on the weather. “I want to see everything I own.”

  Eyes closed, I free my arms. Cheek to carpet, I put my hands on eithe
r ass cheek and expose myself further.

  A slight touch between my labia makes me jump.

  “Easy,” he murmurs, gently stroking my wet slit. He circles my clit and I push slightly into his touch. Pleasure tightens, spiralling upwards. He takes his hand away and the sensation dissipates.

  “No, pet. You have to earn that.”

  His finger touches my asshole, transfering the collected moisture. I whimper as he presses against the taut ring of muscle.

  He chuckles. Takes his hand away.

  He’s sitting up. There’s a rustle of cloth. I imagine him wiping his hand on his handkerchief.

  I stay in place. I might as well be a statue he commissioned, carved from marble. Under the jacket, my skin is cold.

  “You may rise.”

  I go to tall knees and he holds out his hand, helping me to my feet.

  “You did well. I am looking forward to training you further.”

  My core muscles clench. You’re wet. There’s no reason I should respond this way.

  Someone comes to the door and he eases away from me. I’m flushed and shaking. Breathe, just breathe. He’s a vampire. There’s nothing about him that should make me feel this way.

  “Time to go, pet.” Frangelico returns to me. He pulls out a leash and fastens it to my collar. His dark eyes flash. I hold my breath as we stare at each other. I can’t bring myself to drop my eyes.

  The corner of his mouth turns up.

  He straightens and tugs. “Follow me.”

  We make it down the stairs an head for the back door. Guards in dark suits and sunglasses line the way, a mix of both mortal and vampire. My cheeks heat as I’m paraded in front of them, the barefoot subjugated slave. A pet on a leash.

  We reach the door and Frangelico stops. A guard hands him something I don’t quite see until the he turns and envelops me in its soft folds. A blanket.

  My heart melts a little as he swaddles me.

  The Vampire King wraps me up tight and picks me up, carrying me from the theater into the car.

  * * *

  Lucius

  With the she-wolf tucked into my arms, I settle into my seat. She looks a little dazed.

  A guard shuts the door and she makes a little move. I tighten my hold.

  “What is it, pet?”

  “Shouldn’t I kneel on the floor?”

  “No. I want to hold you.” I tip her back so her head rests on my arm. “Relax, pet. Sleep if you can.”

  “Yes, sir.” When she’s calm, her voice is low, soothing, a pleasing alto. When she’s not, it gets high and breathy. Both pitches work dark magic on my body. I want to coddle her, treat her like a fragile flower. And I want to break her down and put her to her paces until she’s blissed out and looking at me as her god. I want to do it over and over again.

  Underneath my new pet, my cock threatens to burst from my pants. It’s going to be a long car ride.

  I check my phone as we glide through the night. My financier received my confirmation to transfer funds. Such an expensive little pet.

  The she-wolf stiffens. I said that out loud.

  “Don’t worry.” I tug her silky locks. “You’re worth it.”

  In between petting her, I call Dante, ordering him to plan a massive party a month from tonight. To celebrate my new purchase. Dante falls over himself, promising to make it a night I’ll remember. I smile at the double meaning, and hang up.

  That’s done then. I have one month to prepare for one night. All of my sired are to be there. If they wish to stage a coup, that would be the night to do it. I’ll be prepared. I’m always prepared. Caesar was a soldier, and trusted his men, but I’m a prince of Machiavelli’s ilk. Better to be feared than loved. When I face my enemies, I don’t just wound them. I destroy and scorch the earth.

  “Sir?” Her meek voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?” she should know better than to speak first, but I’ll allow it. I’ll enjoy breaking her bad habits.

  “Bid on me.” She gnaws her lip and I rest two fingers against her mouth to make her stop.

  “You remind me of someone. A vampire. You have the same color hair.” I remove my fingers and wipe them dry on the blanket. “I loved her once.”

  A furrow appears between her brows and I smooth it out.

  “Oh yes, I can love.”

  “What happened?”

  “She betrayed me,” I answer. “Now, hush until I tell you you can speak.”

  Defiance flares in her eyes. There’s my little fighter.

  She sighs against my chest, her lower lip puffed out as she stares out the window.

  “Now, now, don’t sulk. Save your strength for the rest of the night. I promise you will need it.”

  A tremor goes through her.

  “Close your eyes,” I order. She slits them shut, but keeps squinting at the scenery. A little bit of rebellion. I will enjoy breaking her.

  I won’t fuck her, not right away. First I’ll put her through the paces until every move, every gesture and flick of her eyelashes pleases me. Some vampires would simply wipe their victim’s minds and impress their will. I don’t stoop to those tricks. Even my sired, once weaned from my blood, can choose to love me. My relationship with this wolf will be no different. She will rue and fear me, and I will teach her how pleasant it is to obey. I will bind her to me using every trick and technique I know. And in the end, I’ll give her a choice: leave or stay. If she chooses to stay, she can be a sweetblood at my club. I’ll never fuck or drink from her again. I cannot risk growing attached.

  To love is to lose.

  Chapter 3

  Selene

  The vampire king lives in a mansion high on a hill. It surprises me how elevated it is, on a pedestal in the Tucson foothills.

  “Like it, pet?” Lucius’ fingers massage my neck. I nod, remembering his speech restriction.

  He chuckles. “Good girl.”

  I shouldn’t like those words as much as I do. Lucius’s presence affects me more than it should.

  He’s the enemy, I remind myself as he lifts and carries me into his house. Two men in dark glasses and unobtrusive earpieces open the double doors for us.

  Frangelico swoops over the threshold and strides straight through the richly decorated house. I fidget a little in his arms, wanting to explore. My wolf doesn’t feel safe in strange places.

  Frangelico is determined to carry me.

  “Do you want me to put you down, pet?” he murmurs, amused. I duck my head and he chuckles. “Are you so eager to crawl for me?” he whispers in my ear.

  I flush as I remember what he told me. When you are in my home, you will crawl.

  His laughter booms in his broad chest, reverberating through me. I’m not particularly small or delicate, but Lucius is well out of my weight class. And I’m supposed to submit to him.

  So I relax and let him carry me through the high ceilinged chambers, through a bedroom with a king-sized four poster bed and into a bathroom big as a small house. I gape at the luxury as he sets me down on a tiled ledge next to a jacuzzi tub and crouches to start the water.

  “A bath?” I mumble, shocked at the sight of the Vampire King on his knees, checking the temperature of bath water.

  “Naughty pet, I told you not to speak.”

  I duck my head, waiting for a blow or some sort of retribution.

  He just unwraps me and lowers me into the warm water. The temperature is perfect and I can’t stop myself from relaxing and letting the water wash this sordid night away.

  Lucius runs a finger down my shoulder, pausing to examine the bruises on my arm. “Did you fight your handlers before the auction?”

  “No,” I murmur. “But they weren’t gentle.”

  A dark sound rumbles in Lucius’ throat. He unwraps a new bar of soap, but when I reach for it he holds it away. “Let me.”

  So I lie back and let the King of Vampires give me a bath. He scrubs every part of me with a soft cloth, includ
ing each finger. He has me face away from him and spends long minutes wetting and shampooing my hair. Each rinse washes away more of the intense events of the night. Selene the fighter fades into Selene the very pampered.

  In all those years since Xavier came to my foster mother’s home and explained to me why I was an orphan why I had no pack. He explained the murderer still walked free and clear and unpunished, and he offered me the chance for revenge. I left my foster mother and went into his care, a barracks a cold, stripped down soldier’s life where pain and want were necessary tools to strengthen me. I spent the years between sixteen and twenty-one, those hormonal, formative years, learning to fight for my life every day, sleeping alone at night. Alone and untouched. Not even a mother’s caress. Not even a pat on the back.

  I didn’t know how much I needed it, how much my skin missed human contact—even from someone who wasn’t human--until now. Until Lucius Frangelico rolled up his sleeves and handled me. This powerful ruler kneeling for me, serving me.

  He’s not serving me, he’s indulging himself. Asserting his rights. His hands move over my body, handling me like a ripe piece of fruit. Like an antique that’s been hidden under layers of grime, found by a discerning eye and bought to be put on display. You belong to me, his fingers say. You are now my possession.

  My body doesn’t mind. It just wants more of his touch. Every inch of my body awakens under his large hands. My breasts swell, my nipples tighten. I should be planning my strategy and gathering my resources for a long, entrenched fight. Instead, I vibrate with nervous, expectant energy. What will he do next? Where will he touch me? How good will it feel? In just a few short minutes, he transforms me from a spy in his household, to a woman.

  His hands trespass between my legs and I scissor them together. He just waits until I relax again, and slides his large fingers down the seam of my inner thigh. Sensation ripples through me. My lips part and I suck in air as he rubs the soap into the trimmed hair covering my pussy.

  “Stand up.” he orders, and signals me into the submissive position I took before, with my legs parted and my chest high, with my hands behind my head. “Eyes down.”