Laird of the Underworld : Book 1

by Verna Cyril

  Alaric tensed. His amber eyes locked with hers in sheer intensity. He watched as her beautiful hazel eyes searched his face. His eyes moved to her sultry lips, which were now slightly parted with excitement. Spellbound, he dipped his head and kissed her with raw hunger. The crowd suddenly grew wild.

  Genevieve moaned when he finally broke the kiss. A sigh of complaint escaped her lips as she lifted her eyes to meet his burning gaze. Norwick smiled, then cleared his throat as a look of annoyance ran over Alaric’s face. She chuckled softly.

  Genevieve’s stomach growled as the servers floated through the room with the appetizers. She hadn’t realized she was so famished. The appetizer was soup and Tuscan bread and Bruschetta. Wine was served and everyone ate with gaiety. Genevieve’s eyes ran through the crowd. There were over two thousand men and women. The great hall was splendid and designed with high quality furnishings, beautiful crystal white chandeliers hang low from high ceilings. The lighting was spectacular. Over the walls of the room featured large family portraits. Whoever had decorated the room had taken much time and effort to leave a “wow” effect. Even on the tables were lovely coloured floating candles and tall white orchid bouquets sat at the centre of the long banquet tables, gold table runners ran over white table cloths. The decor was excellent, she thought, as her eyes moved around the room in appraisal. Over the chairs were gold and royal blue sashes tied in giant bows. Genevieve inhaled deeply, almost lost for words. There was so much she wanted and needed to know about the Dunkan family. She chewed on her food silently, enjoying the delectable tang of seasoned chicken on her tongue.

  “How is it?”, Alaric’s rich but smooth voice reached her ears. Genevieve looked up from her plate. Her pulse raced and heat crawled down her stomach to between her thighs. One of his shapely eyebrows lifted in amusement. “Tonight”, he promised in a whisper.

  Genevieve’s cheeks grew crimson. She immediately averted her eyes. She hadn’t realized she had thought aloud. He was persistently reading her mind. Her emotions and thoughts were now an open book to him. She hated the fact that he had this type of power over her.

  She looked down at her unfinished soup then at his gold cufflinks from the corner of her eyes. His hand, she noticed, blushing, He was the epitome of masculinity. Perfectly manicured hands held his spoon to his lips. Her eyes trailed to his lips.

  Alaric’s pulse race. Eagerly, he dropped his spoon into his plate and dropped his handkerchief on the table. Silently he grabbed Genevieve’s wrist and pulled her away from the table with him.

  Katherine frowned. “Alaric, is everything ok?”, she questioned in concern.

  Alaric’s lips thinned into a grim line, “Yes, mother”. he said over his shoulder as he dragged Genevieve along with him.

  “Alaric?” Genevieve shrieked in confused horror as she followed him down the corridor noisily. Without a word, he stopped at a powder room shoving her inside and locking the door shut behind them.

  “You are driving me insane”, Alaric whispered in a ragged breath as he crushed his mouth over her lips. Impatiently, he pulled her dress over her head to reveal her perky breasts. Desperately his hands roamed her body. Over her breasts, her waist. Drunk with desire he paused to look at her body, she was wearing black laced panties. He smiled roguishly, the little nymph was wearing no bra. He took a little rosy bud into his mouth and gently sucked it. Moans of ecstasy rippled from her lips as she writhed in his arms.

  Alaric lifted her to his hips on the wall and slid a finger in her panties. Sucking his breath, he fondled her, the sweetness and nectar of her core on his finger as he rubbed over her soft mound. “Genevieve”, he whispered softly, then like a mad man, ripped off the delicate lace.

  Genevieve gasped again, as his lips moved over her nipples, nipping, licking at her tiny pink buds. Not wanting to wait any longer, Alaric pressed her on the wall and lifted her over his thighs. Shuddering with need he freed himself. And rubbed her clits with the tip of his manhood. When he felt she was ready, he slowly pushed himself inside her tight core. Genevieve cried with pleasure as he drove inside of her, lifting her to meet his thrust. His lips crushed her lips.

  He drove in and out of her, squeezing and caressing her buttocks and thighs. Genevieve shook, tightening her grip on his neck.

  “Bloody hell!”, Alaric growled shuddering. “So hot..”, he thrust deep inside of her and released his sperm. Alaric heaved then kissed her lips. “Thank you.”

  Genevieve blushed, her legs were still shaking as he slid her down his body to her feet.

  Suddenly there was a loud bang at the door followed by a loud crash outside. The floor shook beneath them.

  “There is an attack”, a man cried out on the outside.

  “Damien?” Alaric quickly pulled on his trousers and jacket. Consciously he ran his hands over his suit then brushed his lips against Genevieve’s. “Remain here”, he whispered huskily looking into her eyes.

  Genevieve nodded and watched as he turned on his heel, opened and shut the door behind him. Another “boom” shook the room and the light flickered. Momentarily, Genevieve got dressed, ran over to the door and locked it. The loud crash outside the walls of the room continued. Nervously, she sank down to the floor back against the door. The sound of war cries sent chills down her spine as she waited warily for it all to come to an end. After what felt like hours, she heard the door knob shake, silence hung heavily in the air. Genevieve stood up, facing the door in fear. “Is that you, Alaric?” The floor shook under her feet again from a hefty blast outside.

  The door shook. Genevieve took a few steps back, eyes never leaving her target. Slowly screws fell to the floor. She clasped her hand over her mouth in disbelief as she watched the door give way. The heavy mahogany door dropped to the floor, the sound sending panic chills down her spine. Genevieve screamed then curled up to the far corner of the room on the floor, hugging herself.

  From where she sat, she could see heavy black boots entering the room. She noticed he was wearing a black leather trench coat and leather trousers. Then her eyes moved up to his toned clad chest and slowly to his neck and face. Genevieve stared back into stormy gray eyes. He had a strong jawline and short blond locks. He lifted her to her feet with a flick of his wrist.“You have dishonoured me.”

  Genevieve shook her head fearfully as she felt a tightening at her neck. “Who are you?”, she heaved as she struggled to break free from his hold. Desperately, she tried to shapeshift out of his grip. He burst into laughter. “Interesting, I see you’ve learnt a few tricks”

  She scrunched her face, annoyed by her failure to get out of this sticky predicament.

  He pulled her to him with a flick of his hand. Genevieve fell into his arms. “I will make him rue the day he took you from me.” He promised in a near whisper. Genevieve felt a small pinch at her neck just before she fell into a deep sleep.

  ***

  Genevieve woke up in a shadowy dungeon, on a cold concrete slab. Her eyes darted frightfully at her surroundings. Her head felt heavy. “Where am I?”, she called. “Hello?” The echo of her voice resonated through the murky walls. She tried to move but cold chains tightened at her ankles and wrist as she tried to jerk free. The heavy metal clanked on the wall. She inhaled sharply as she realized that she was naked and trapped. “Please”, she whimpered. “Someone help me…”, her voice trailed into a helpless moan.

  “Relax.. sweetheart”, a shadow approached her from the darkened corner of the pit.

  Genevieve tried to jerk free again. She grimaced as the chains bit at her skin.

  Her captor clucked his tongue. “Uh, uh, princess. Don’t hurt yourself”, he warned, his voice a smooth velvety tone.

  Genevieve’s brows wrinkled into a frown. “Whoever you are, Alaric will find you and kill you”. Her oppressor cackled, the sound rippled through the walls of the dungeon .Genevieve lifted her chin, eyes ablaze. “I am not afraid. Whoever, you are” Her eyes widened in dismay , her anger dissipated and tears brimmed her eyes as h
er captor slowly proceeded out of the shadows. “Alaric?” she whispered.

  She watched as he closed the distance between them. His hands reached over to caress her face, his long finger trailed over her lips. “Yes, it is.”

  A solitary tear ran down her cheek. She croaked. “Why are you doing this to me?”, she winced, inhaling sharply at the sight of four other men proceeding from the shadows.

  He ran his tongue over his lips. “A little game or two excites me, wife.”

  Genevieve whimpered, shaking her head. “Please don’t, don’t .” She watched as he shed his clothing, his movements slow and deliberate. Genevieve averted her eyes, her cheeks burning with indignation. His companions loomed behind him restlessly. Feeling helpless, she broke into tears as she tried again to tug at her shackles. Breathlessly Genevieve cried out for help in this God forsaken place.

  Chapter thirteen

  Alaric remained crouched in his position. Impatiently, he gestured to his father and the other five men to move. They could not delay any longer. Genevieve was in trouble, he could feel her anxiety, her pain. His jaw clenched as raw anger shot through his veins. They moved with the shadows. Crinamorte’s men were already compromised. Despite their attack last night, he and the other men were still able to vanquish their enemies. They had fought with honour that night. He had moved quickly and separated the men, some were responsible to protect the women and children and the others were to fight by his side till death. They had a few injured men and two deaths but Crinamorte’s men mainly fell to their sword. The coward Dunstan Crinamorte had managed to get away in the midst of the battle and left with Genevieve. He clenched his jaw. A strange feeling washed over him. Was this fear? he thought in disbelief. He had never experienced fear until now. It was at that moment that he knew. He couldn’t leave without her. She was his wife, a part of his very existence. Seething now, he ran his fingers over his blade. I will kill that bastard with my bare hands if he touches her, he promised himself.

  Alaric moved along the walls of the cave. The aim was to attack Dunstan and his men from the back of the cave. Previous to their arrival at Renwe cave, they had attacked and massacred the Crinamorte’s lands. Lord Crinamorte was forced to submit to him and his men at the demise of his favoured henchmen. “Where is that scum of a son of yours?”, Alaric pressed the tip of his sword into Lord Crinamorte's throat, acquiring a bit of blood. Lord Crinamorte stuttered a plea. “Please... spare me, my son keeps her in the cave, just below the village, “Now that I’ve told you, I beg of you, spare my life”, his face red with fear. Alaric and Norwick exchanged glances, disgusted by the man’s plight.

  Norwick unsheathed his sword and returned bitterly. “You are a shame on your people” and on that note, he ran his blade through Crinamorte’s neck, the head was severed from the body with a single swing of his sword. Crinamorte’s grey eyes were wide with fear as blood spray-painted the ceramic floors.

  Alaric quickly summoned a few of his men to follow him into Renwe cave. There they would lay siege upon Dunstan Crinamorte and his accomplices.

  Now, as Alaric stood before the entrance of Renwe, with a wave of his hand the entrance of the cave burst into flames and the door collapsed. Without a moment's hesitation he and his men went in for a search. The sight of his wife lying motionless and naked in chains nearly made him double over in anguish. Quickly, he pulled off his coat and closed the distance between them to cover her up. He looked over his shoulder to see his men searching the cave thoroughly.

  “The bastard is gone!”, Damien yelled over the leaping flames.

  Genevieve fluttered her eyes open. She could see Alaric approaching her through the smoky haze. He was wearing only a vest, his arms rippled with strength as he moved closer. His features brewed with anger. She flinched. “Please, don’t do this”, she whimpered.

  A lump rose up at the back of his throat. “It’s ok Genevieve, I am not going to hurt you”, he whispered comfortingly.

  Genevieve’s eyes pierced him, blazing with hatred. “You lie, it was you. It was you who kept me in these shackles and tried to violate me. How could you?” She broke into tears.

  Alaric took a step back, his hands in mid-air. “No, Genevieve, it wasn’t. You were kidnapped. Can’t you remember? Let me cover you”, he pleaded then at her approval, he edged closer and wrapped her into his coat.

  Alaric held her tightly, then closed his eyes. He asked in a strained whisper: “Did he touch you?”

  Genevieve shook her head. “No….”, she trailed off then cried out in frustration. “But it was you Alaric” she accused. “You and your henchmen” . She fought to get out of his arms..

  Alaric's heart wrenched as he tried to calm her down. “No..” , he breathed. “No, Genevieve, it wasn’t me, I promise you.”

  Genevieve shook her head profusely, tears stinging her eyes. “It was, get away from me. I hate you”, she whimpered.

  Hurt, he cupped her face to look into her eyes. “Listen to me, Genevieve”, he pleaded. “I would never hurt you like this. I promise, it wasn’t me. It was Dunstan Crinamorte, who presented himself to you as me. He has hundreds of years experience under his belt. He has lived on this earth as long as I have. He has the ability to shapeshift himself into anyone or anything he chooses.” He placed his palm over his chest, to make an oath. “This was his method to try to turn you against me, it's over.” he reassured her. “I promise, it's over.” he spoke in hushed tones then brushed his lips against her forehead.

  Genevieve relaxed into his arms and Alaric broke the chains open. He pulled her into an embrace as she held unto him for her dear life. He kissed her breathlessly, scooping her into his arms.

  “Is all clear?”, Alaric called over his shoulder, his voice an echo.

  “All clear!” his father returned. “The idiot escaped some time ago.”

  Alaric let out an expletive. “He also drugged my wife”, he gritted blindly in rage.

  Norwick reached out and tapped his son on the shoulder. “She is safe now.” He stared down at Genevieve sleeping form in his son’s arms then reassured. “It’s over.”

  Epilogue.

  The shoreline edged closer to their feet. Genevieve smiled as she enjoyed the feel of the sand and sea between her toes.She and Alaric had decided to spend the rest of the day out and had voted on an afternoon stroll on the beach. It was two long weeks since he had rescued her from the hands of Dunstan Crinamorte, and ever since that day, they had been inseparable. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight. They did everything together. Her lips quirked into a smile. He even brought her to work with him. She nearly burst into giggles remembering his words that day at breakfast: “The last time I left you alone at home, you snuck out and nearly got yourself killed.” with a disapproving glance he added: “Unfortunately, I can’t take that chance again.”

  She had crossed her arms in an obstinate manner and even stomped her feet demanding to stay home, but he was adamant with his decision. In response he had just chuckled and ruffled her hair with his hand and said in a frivolous tone: ‘‘Cute.’’ At her groan of disapproval , he had laughed softly, then walked away to go get dressed for work.

  She inhaled deeply as she continued to search for tiny starfish or shells at her feet. She stole a glimpse at him from the corner of her eyes, then admitted with a sigh that he was everything she never thought she could have. Suddenly, tears pricked the corner of her eyes as thoughts of the present and what led up to it resurfaced her mind. Many days she had tried not to cry over the memory of her father. She sniffled. then took a deep breath as Alaric gave her hand a gentle squeeze. At least he had died knowing she was safe, she reassured herself. Then thoughts of the past few days splayed through her mind. She sighed in pleasure, remembering how Alaric had claimed her that night, their love making was incredibly slow and deliberate. He had learnt and explored her body. She too had done so many things to him, things she never thought she would be brave enough to do. Her cheeks burned a crimson red. Oh what a few
glasses of red wine can do, she lamented in irony.

  “I love you”. Alaric interrupted her thoughts, his voice a velvety tone.

  Genevieve’s head snapped up to look at him, her eyes now beaming with overwhelming joy. She turned to face him and placed her hands into his. “You do?”, she whispered in awe.

  Alaric nodded his head then kissed her. “I do”. He panted as he claimed her lips into a smoldering kiss.

  The squawking seagulls dipped over the ocean as the sun began to set, in turn making their silhouettes dance in locomotion over the sand. Genevieve sighed and inhaled deeply into the smell of the ocean filling her lungs. She hummed over his lips. “I love you too, Alaric”, her voice hitched. “Forever…”, she trailed off with a kiss.

  Dunstan Crinamorte

  Dunstan Crinamorte gathered his dead father's body in his arms as he rocked back and forth. His face twisted in bitter rage. A low guttural sound escaped his lips. “Father,” he mourned, “I failed you.” He looked into the heavens. “I failed you father”, he yelled then clenched his teeth. “But I promise you father, I will avenge your death. Even if it's the last thing I do. I promise!”

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  About Verna

  Hi everyone, my name is Verna Cyril. I am a wife and a stay-at-home mom of two beautiful children who can be quite a handful. I am fascinated by history and nature. I love reading a good book and, to those of you who are curious, I do have a favorite author’s list. A few of them are Julie Garwood, Johanna Lindsey and Judith McNaught. I am a big fan of the HBO show “Outlander”. Also, in my quiet time, I enjoy listening to my favourite genre of music which, funnily, happens to be 80’s music, Celtic, and spa. Along the way, I make time to write.