Laird of the Underworld : Book 1

by Verna Cyril

  Rigwort dropped his free fist into Jared’s chest, cracking a number of ribs and impaling him with his bare hand. With a derisive smirk tugging his lips, he pulled out Jared’s beating heart from the walls of his chest. This was followed by the piercing shrills of screams as people flooded from the room. The intoxicating smell of blood wafted the air. Rigwort threw his head back and cackled, then threw the pulsating heart to the ground with disgust. Jared's lifeless body slid to the floor with a loud thud. In a deep baritone, he warned, contempt laced his words as the sound reverberated the walls of the blue lit room: “This is a warning. Let the Dunkans know that the war has truly begun!”

  No one replied. He waited, his eyes darting across the room, then let out a gut wrenching growl. Furiously he stomped out of the room. At the exit, he and his goons shot into the sky with incredible speed.

  ***

  Alaric stared at his wife with burning desire as she gazed in awe at the views outside the window of the aircraft. Her mouth dropped open in amazement at the scenery below them.

  Distracted, he wet his lips. He too was enticed, not by the view outside his jet but rather by her enchanting beauty. Her golden tresses shone in the beams of the setting sun. He could see soft specks of gold in her hazel coloured eyes. His loins tightened. He was suddenly hungry for her. The small purple vein at her neck pulsed crazily. He closed his eyes, then swallowed as a fever jolted down his pelvis. He sucked in his breath at the thought of her naked form in his arms, fully aware that he hadn't made love to her in weeks. He had been deliberately spending all his time at work, attending board meetings and crafting press releases to clear the misconception about him and his dear wife. Ahh Genevieve, he thought. Though he had been busy, he had still been listening, watching her every move. There wasn’t a step she made that he didn’t know. She had thought that maybe, just maybe, he had completely lost interest in her whereabouts and so had decided to visit her old home town. But little did she know. What had she hoped to accomplish returning home? Who was she really searching for? He was furious when he had met her in the cafe. Not only had she left home, but the thought of her with this guy named Richard infuriated him. There was a connection between them that unnerved him. She was keeping something from him and he needed to know. She would not play games with him anymore. He reached out and held her chin firmly.

  Geneveive reluctantly tore her gaze from the view outside the window. She looked past his shoulder, afraid to look into his eyes for fear of what she would find there.

  Annoyed, Alaric jerked her chin up. Her eyes were teary. Was she crying? he thought in surprise. His anger quickly melted as tears ran down her eyes. He ran his finger across her cheek to wipe her tears away, his eyes never leaving hers as he invaded the privacy of her thoughts. She was worried about how coldly he had been treating her lately. Alaric sighed, then desperately he claimed her lips in a passionate kiss and delved his tongue inside her mouth as a few moans escaped her.

  “Eh...hem!” A woman cleared her throat before them. Genevieve flinched guessing it was the attendant. Embarrassed, she immediately tried to break free from Alaric’s kiss, but he was not so inclined. He held her tightly, deepening their kiss. Genevieve soon melted into his arms again. The woman’s outrageous huff showed her obvious disapproval of their kiss.

  Reluctantly, Alaric broke the kiss and gracefully accepted both drinks from the waiting woman’s hands. Her face was tomato red and her eyes blazed with discontent. “Thank you, Myra”, Alaric said calmly. She placed the two glasses of drinks before him, then he quickly dismissed Myra with an impatient wave of his hand.

  With a rude humph. She stormed back to the mini bar, anger apparent in her stride. Genevieve nearly burst into laughter. She hadn’t felt the urge to laugh in such a long time.

  Alaric's expression was blank. He leaned towards her and caressed her face. “You’re so beautiful”, he whispered in her ear.

  Genevieve shivered with desire, her smile faded and her expression was replaced with hurt .Her hazel eyes searched his handsome features in confusion. “Can you tell me more about you?.”

  Alaric took a giant swig of his drink and returned the glass next to Genevieve’s untouched cocktail. He nodded his head. He would, just as soon as she agreed to abort the plans she had concocted in her head. She first had to realize her place as his wife and her duty was to obey him. He concluded: “I will,” there was a lengthy pause. His expression suddenly turned stony. “What or who were you really searching for back there?”

  Genevieve lifted her chin in defiance and returned sternly. “I went looking for my father.”

  Fuming, Alaric gritted his teeth when he finally spoke he hissed: “I thought I had forbidden you from finding him.” Wounded, Genevieve gasped: “Forbidden me?”

  Alaric groaned. “Yes, I did,” He dragged his words then held her face in his hands forcing her to look into his face. “This mission of yours is dangerous and I forbid it!”

  Genevieve rolled her eyes, pulling her chin away from his grip as she shot up from where she sat. She didn’t care anymore that they were not alone. She would tell him how she felt. Keeping her voice down was no longer an option. “It is my right to see my father”, she returned fiercely. “and I will do so whenever I damn well please.”

  Alaric snarled, revealing perfectly white fangs. He didn’t wish to upset her but she was persistent in defying him. He returned coldly: “Your father is dead!”

  Genevieve’s jaw fell open, her face twisted with hurt and her throat tightened from unshed tears. Her knees buckled under her and she sank back on the sofa, her eyes now glistening pools of tears. She held herself and began to rock back and forth in disbelief. Words escaped her as her heart continued to race with anxiety. A voice spoke over a monitor to announce their arrival at their destination. She felt Alaric’s arms wrapped around her. She began sobbing helplessly as he lifted her in his lap and she buried her face in his shoulders.

  Alaric had decided to have Freddy pick them up. He needed to comfort her. Quietly he threaded his fingers through her hair as she remained nestled in his arms. Genevieve sniffled, finally breaking the silence. Her voice hitched with despair. “How did he die?”

  Alaric inhaled deeply. How could he tell her that her father’s heart was ripped out of his chest? He lied: “A very peaceful death.”

  Genevieve shook with tears. Daddy was the only one who ever truly loved me.

  Alaric stiffened. Although he had not known Genevieve for long, it hurt him that she had so very little faith in their marriage. Not to mention he knew that he truly cared about her. It troubled him that she thought he didn’t care to love her. He was sure he could learn to love her too.

  Now I have no one, Genevieve continued in thought. Alaric rolled his hands into fists, then pointed out assuredly. “You have me.” Genevieve flinched. She hadn’t realized he was reading her thoughts until now. Her cheeks burned with indignation. She didn’t want his pity.

  Chapter twelve

  Genevieve sucked in her breath as she stared at Alaric from under her eyelids. He had just crossed the room bare-chested. She pretended not to notice and continued to go through a bunch of magazines she had collected from the sitting room.

  “We are joining my parents for dinner tonight”. His rich voice filled the room instantly catching Genevieve’s attention. Her head snapped up and her eyes helplessly moved over his sun kissed chest. She averted her eyes, not before she saw the small line of hair running down his torso. She flushed then gulped. They hadn’t talked much ever since their return to his home, neither had he bothered to touch her. The small moments that they shared together, he was always so gentle and caring. Genevieve appreciated the small gestures but she wondered why he didn’t make love to her. Was he giving her time? She couldn’t help but feel so vulnerable. She needed him to touch her, to soothe every pain inside of her. With the death of her father, she now realized how much she wanted him to love her.

  “Genevieve, did you hear me?”, A
laric questioned over his shoulder as he moved towards their closet.

  “Oh sure…”, she replied in a monotone then groaned, hoping that he would change his mind about the dinner. After all, she had just gotten news of her father's death a week ago. Her body was sore from spending all afternoon in training. Training to fight had become her coping mechanism to help her deal with the loss of her father. She had learnt so much over the past few days, cunning skills as a vampire. Alaric? She spoke to him through her mind.

  “ Hmm?” He lifted his head away from his cell phone. He had returned to the room partially dressed for the evening. He seemed pretty occupied with what he was doing

  “How did you become so successful?”

  He heaved, surprised by her question. “Definitely not over night.”

  Genevieve cocked her head to one side. “Whatever do you mean?”

  He nodded then continued: “The Dunkans are famously known for their business affiliations. Businesses have been a part of this family’s history for many generations. Surprisingly, most wealthy entrepreneurs are creatures of the night. Some warlocks, vampires, you name it. The Dunkan family has always been the top of the food chain. We are one of the biggest investors out there and shareholders of multi-million dollar companies. This empire is over many centuries old and we are extremely proud.

  Genevieve stared at him, her eyebrows creased into a tiny frown. “How old are you?”

  Taken aback, Alaric threw his head back and laughed. Genevieve shot him an irritated look.

  “What?” She looked like she was going to hit him with her fist. “What’s so funny?”, she cried out hysterically.

  Alaric inhaled deeply. “Relax.” he coaxed. “You will know all you need to know in due time, but now we need to get ready. We don’t want to be late for my own coronation dinner.”

  Genevieve inhaled sharply. “Coronation dinner?”

  Alaric raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it's done, every thousand years.”

  Genevieve drew her breath. “So does this mean you are one thousand years old?”

  Alaric sighed then moved to her side. He sank onto the bed next to her and lifted her chin gently. “Let's just say I was there when William the Normandy invaded England.” He ignored her surprised gasp then clasped his hands. “Now, let's get ready. We don’t want to keep our guest waiting.” His voice was firm again.

  Lazily, Genevieve crawled out of bed and marched into the shower. Half an hour later, she took a closer look at the dress that Alaric had chosen for her. It was extremely pretty. She ran her hands over the soft material, then reached for the price tag. Alarmed, she gagged her mouth with her hands to avoid herself from screaming. “Two thousand dollars?”

  She removed the bag off the dress and draped it over her small frame. She had lost some weight. She walked over to the full length mirror and gawked at her pallor in disbelief. Cocking her head from side to side. Genevieve examined her skin then pinched a little colour into her cheeks. “That’s better,” she whispered in relief, then pulled the dress over her head. It flowed down her curves and the hem fell gracefully to the floor. She looked over her reflection in amazement. The top of the dress had a deep v-cut that ran right above her breast, giving away a full view of her cleavage .The straps of the dress fell off her shoulders leaving her neck and upper shoulder bare. Her eyes roved down her body. It gave her a perfect fit, hugging all the right places. “How does he know my body so well?”, she whispered, twitching her lips from side to side as she scrutinized herself in the dress carefully. Genevieve lifted her hands and removed the pins which held up her hair. The honey butter tresses cascaded down her shoulders into loose rich curls. That's better, she thought, then lifted the red lipstick to her lips. She wasn’t much of a fan of makeup but the lipstick did a great job in hiding her pallor, plus it matched the colour of her dress. Another gift from Alaric, she thought in awe. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had actually taken the time to choose the dress and makeup himself. She ran her hands through her hair again then averted her gaze to the hem of the dress on the floor.

  “Maybe he did?”, Alaric teased as he entered the closet behind her. Without hesitation he gently pulled her into his arms. Genevieve groaned loudly with a smile as he nuzzled her neck.

  “This is a breach of privacy.” she fumed over her soft laughter. “I demand you to stop.”

  “Maybe I won’t”. Alaric lifted his gaze to look at her in the mirror. A mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

  With a gasp, Genevieve turned around, took a step back to look at him. She held her chest. “You look incredibly handsome” , she whispered over the sound of her racing heartbeat. Unconsciously, she wet her lower lips. He was looking exceptional in his dark blue suit, tailored to fit his strong masculine physique.

  He pulled her close to him again and breathed deeply into her scent. “You look absolutely gorgeous” He embraced her for a long time, then reached into his back pocket to remove a small black box. In it was a small gold chain with a diamond pendant. Carefully, he turned her around and draped it around her neck in the mirror. Genevieve's mouth opened in disbelief as she fingered the diamond pendant.

  Gently he tugged at her hand and led her away from the closet. “It's time, my queen”, he said huskily. Genevieve nodded as she locked her arms in his.

  In a wink of an eye they arrived at the dinner. His parents welcomed them both with dazzling smiles. Alaric’s father was dressed with a dark grey suit, which lifted his sea blue eyes and blond white hair. He didn’t look a day over a millennium. Genevieve’s eyes floated across the room, heat crept down her cheeks and neck. Tiana and her daughter were seated at a table in the far corner of the room. Genevieve felt extremely horrible for bamboozling and breaking the woman’s trust. She whisked away from Alaric’s side before he could stop her. He was in an intense conversation with his father and two other hefty men. She approached the woman, wringing her hands.

  Big green eyes dazzled up at her. “My Lady Genevieve.” she began to stand.

  Genevieve quickly stopped her with a wave of her hand. “No.. no please sit,” she glanced between the woman and the little girl who was excitedly waiting on her. “I came to apologize for my behaviour. It was terrible of me to break your trust like that.”

  The woman’s lips curled into a warm smile. She reached out for Genevieve’s hand. “It’s fine, my lady. I understood your plight. What’s done is done”, she insisted

  A wave of relief washed over Genevieve. She had never felt so relieved. She had thought she had lost the only friend she had made here.

  Genevieve. Alaric's soft voice penetrated her mind. She looked away from Tiana and she could see her husband waiting for her at a long table in the centre of the great hall.

  “Husband.” She rolled the words off her tongue in disbelief. She still couldn’t believe she was married. Her eyes flew to the diamond encrusted ring on her finger.

  Genevieve. His voice penetrated her mind again, a lot less patient. An expressionless look masked his face. He was seated next to his father who was at the head of the long table. An empty chair awaited her. She smiled pleasantly to the women and men whose eyes followed her across the room.

  Alaric’s eyes pierced his wife as she moved across the room with unmistakable elegance. Her grace denoted in every step she took, the red dress flowed elegantly around her, fitted snugly in the right places. He felt a tightening in his loins. Without a doubt, he wanted to taste her essence on his lips again. His pulse raced with excitement.

  “She is rather bewitching” his father leaned close and whispered.

  Alaric nodded but did not respond. His eyes remained focused on his wife as she floated across the room to their table.

  His mother quickly stood and called for the attention of the crowd with a toast. She knocked her champagne glass impatiently. “My dear people, it is indeed a great day.” She beamed with laughter as her beautiful amber eyes swept the room. “Tomorrow my son will be crowned as leader of the Coven in s
uccession of my beloved husband, Lord Norwick.”

  The crowd cheered in merriment. Katherine knocked her glass again to regain the attention of the boisterous cheers. “Lord Norwick has ruled the underworld with an iron fist and…….”. She glanced over at her son. Her amber eyes gleamed with joy.

  Genevieve stared in awe. She didn’t miss the look of acclamation on the woman’s face. She was obviously a proud mother. Again she faced the room. “And, I know that my son will also do a commendable job to rule this dynasty with integrity, honour, vision and also with an iron fist” She emphasized on her last words as the room burst into cheers and laughter.

  Genevieve’s heart swelled as she lifted her glass, eyes never leaving her husband’s face. His profile remained unreadable but still he was a delightful sight to look upon. Genevieve wished she knew what he was thinking. He took his champagne glass from the table and lifted it to his lips.

  Hastily, she reached for his hand and stopped him. Her eyes filled with adoration. “My king”, she whispered as tears pricked her eyes. She dared not cry.