by Renee Rose
“He was wonderful,” I say. “He was my first, and he was so good to me.”
There’s a long pause. “You were a virgin?” Aurelia sounds shocked.
And I break. I tell her everything. My engagement with Chad, how he’s actually gay. How our relationship was fake. “Deep down, I knew. But I never let myself leave. I thought it was true love. I thought we were meant to be.”
“Oh, Gwen,” she says. She doesn’t argue with me. She didn't believe in true love, but over a year ago, she met the love of her life and is living with him. The way she talks about her beau, Charlie, makes me ache. I want what she has.
“I know you think I’m ridiculous. It’s just always been my dream to find the one,” I say.
“It’s not that I don't believe in true love,” she says carefully. “I just don’t believe there’s only one person out there for us.”
“But you found Charlie. Are you saying you’re not meant to be?”
“No,” she says softly. “Charlie is one in a million. I can’t imagine my life without him, even though I fought it at the time.”
I close my eyes and fight back tears again. “See?”
“But Gwen, you’re one in a million, too.”
“I feel so lost.”
“You’re not. You’re on your own path. And when it comes to true love—I think I believe in it now. But I think it’s up to us. Life is what we choose it to be. We make our own fairytale. Our own fate.”
We talk a little bit more, and even after she hangs up, those words ring in my mind and in my heart.
I sit up and push back the messy black mass of my hair. We make our own fairytale. Our own fate.
I know what I need to do.
Dimitri
Club Toxic is the most dangerous and exciting spot for a vampire in the world. Or, at least, it used to be. The varnish has worn off, but it was to be expected. All good things must come to an end.
I sip my drink and try not to look too bored. I fail.
I raise a finger and signal for another drink.
Across from me, a vampire friend sits, savoring a glass of wine. We’ve known each other for three hundred years.
“Long night?” my drinking companion asks.
I nod. He says no more. He understands. But in a few minutes, his blonde submissive will saunter into the club. She’ll come to his side. He’ll beckon, and she’ll kneel. And then their night together will begin, and mine will continue. The hours feel like forever when I'm drinking alone.
Lucius, my old friend and the owner of the club, comes to sit beside me. “You appear dissatisfied.”
“I never was that good at hiding my emotions, was I?”
“I seem to recall that while most of our kind lose the ability to feel, you somehow retained that part of your humanity. But you like to pretend you didn’t.”
My upper lip curls with self-disgust. “I highly doubt that.”
Lucius gazes at me. Unlike me, he’s hard to read. He keeps his face a smooth, blank mask, like most vampires. “What caused this malaise? And does it have anything to do with the calls I received the moment the sun went down about some young mortal named Gwen who came here two nights in a row?”
I stiffen. “What about Gwen?” I snap.
Lucius looks across the club floor. A youthful-appearing vampire stalks toward us, a threatening air all around him. “Ah. I think Charlie is about to tell us.”
Charlie. Who the fuck is Charlie?
It’s not like any vampire to allow another to ruffle him. At least, not to show it. Lucius remains in his chair, one elegant leg casually crossed over the other, but I have to fight the urge to rise to my feet to meet the angry newcomer. I want to square off and show my dominance like an alpha wolf instead of like my own kind.
Those emotions Gwen unlocked in me last night are still spilling out. And she’s still the epicenter of them. And to think this guy had anything to do with Gwen brings out something ugly and violent in me.
“Is this the one?” Charlie demands in a faint British accent, lifting his chin in my direction.
My fingers tighten around my glass.
Lucius gives a casual nod, completely nonplussed by the crackle of violence running between us.
“Who are you?” I demand.
“I’m a friend of Gwen’s. And I’m here to tell you to stay the fuck away from her.”
The time for pretending not to be ruffled is long past. I surge to my feet and square off with the immortal, toe to toe, chest to chest. “And exactly why is that?”
“She doesn’t belong here. In this place. With the likes of you.”
Well. I can hardly argue with that, and yet I still do.
“That is why I wiped her mind and told her never to return.” I show far more of my cards than I mean to.
Charlie relaxes slightly, studying me. “Tell me you didn’t enthrall her to leave with you last night.”
My lips curl back and I hiss, canines lengthening to fight.
Lucius rises from his chair, stepping between us. “As I told you on the phone, Charlie, Dimitri would not harm your friend. If she left with him, it was because she wanted to.”
Charlie looks at me. “Is that true?”
I give a stiff nod. But then I’m dumb enough to take my eye off my opponent because she walks in: a beautiful young woman, her posture straight and proud. Her dark hair is unbound. It’s Gwen. I’d recognize her tall, fairytale princess form anywhere.
Charlie turns to take her in. “I thought you said you told her not to come back.”
“I did. I have. Twice now.” I can’t keep the marvel from my tone.
Do you believe in true love? In fate?
I believe, pet.
How else could she be here? What else could have busted through my mind wipes, my powerful suggestions that she not return? How else did she continue to recognize me?
Charlie takes a step toward her but I throw out a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” I say sharply. “If she knows me, then this is meant to be.”
I expect trouble from the other vampire, but he remains still, with Lucius, watching the scene unfold.
I sink back onto my seat to wait. To watch my magnificent mortal stride through the club.
She’s wearing red. A dress short enough to flash a glimpse of bare ass cheek to the club when she walks. My palm itches to mark it. Naughty pet, walking around, flaunting her assets. She needs her master’s mark.
She turns in a circle, viewing the room. Completely confident. She looks around once, and her gaze snaps to me.
I still in my chair. Unbelievable. She remembers. I remain frozen in my seat, but she strides my way, eyes still locked on me.
Tonight, she’s the hunter, I’m the prey.
Lucius has the grace to tug Charlie a few steps back, fading back into the crowd. Not that Gwen seems to notice them.
She stops in front of my chair, looking down at me. Her brow rises as she studies my face. There’s no question: she recognizes me.
Can it be? Did she break the mind wipe? Did fate intervene?
Or did I do a half-ass job with the mind wipe, and leave her memories mostly intact on purpose?
At this moment, it doesn’t matter. She’s here, and I don’t care how or why.
She cocks her head, her fist on her hip. “I know you.” Her eyes narrow.
I straighten and set down my drink. I snap my fingers and point to the floor between my knees.
Her lips purse. She glances at the floor and back at me, an eyebrow raised.
She won’t kneel so easily. “Don’t you have something to say to me?”
My lips quirk. “Kneel, and I will.”
She folds to her knees at my feet. Her eyes are as bright as emeralds. I lean forward and cup her face between my hands.
“Are you lost, babygirl?” My thumb brushes her lower lip.
“No, Sir,” she says eagerly. “Not anymore.”
There’s nothing left to do besides kiss her. Then
I rise and lead her downstairs to the St. Andrew’s Cross. She’ll wear my marks on her skin tonight. Later, I’ll take her home and consummate our relationship. The first night of many.
I was lost, and she found me.
Epilogue
Dusk
Gwen
There’s a secret entrance to Disneyland. It’s guarded by men with machine guns. Beside them stands a tiny grey-haired lady dressed like the Mrs. Potts character in Beauty & the Beast. As I approach, walking carefully in my new shoes, she waves.
“Welcome, Princess Gwen,” she calls.
“Hi,” I say, a little breathless. I touch the tiara on my head—a sparkly jewel-encrusted thing that’s heavier than I expected.
Mrs. Potts unlocks the door and invites me through. “Follow the road towards the castle. Stop when you reach the fork in the road. Your prince is waiting.”
Lifting my skirts, I do as she says. My train rustles over the brick road. I feel a bit silly, drifting down a Disney path after dark in a huge, baby blue ball gown. But when a fancy dress and glass slippers and a sparkly tiara appear on your bed with a note from your vampire dom that says, Wear Me, you don’t disobey.
It’s a bit overwhelming. I think the diamonds in the tiara are real. I’m pretending they’re glass, though. Otherwise, I’d hyperventilate.
It’s all a dream.
I reach the fork in the road and turn slowly in a circle. Night has fallen fully. The last hint of light has faded from the west. The only glow comes from the low lights on the path, and the spotlight on the castle.
A tall form unfolds from the shadows. It’s Dimitri, in a white suit. He’s wearing freakin’ white, and I still didn’t see him. Freakin’ vampire.
He saunters towards me, and my breath disappears. He’s so handsome. And who am I to deserve him?
I touch my tiara. I’m Cinderella at the ball; Snow White and Sleeping Beauty awakened.
“Are you lost, babygirl?” he says with a grin, and opens his arms.
“Dimitri.” I run to him. He catches me and swings me around. “This is all so wonderful! How did you do it?”
“I have my ways,” he says, looking smug and vampirish. He flashes a grin at Mrs. Potts, who apparently followed me up the path. She waves and disappears again.
“Where is everyone? Is this a special event?” I ask.
“I rented the park out.”
My chin drops to the ground. “What?” I stutter when I can get a hold of my jaw. “The entire park?”
“Anything for my pet.” He offers his arm.
I take it. “You mean, your princess,” I correct with a haughty toss of my head.
“Mind your manners, pet,” he purrs. “I’ll bare your bottom and spank you here. You know I would.”
I shiver, and my pussy clenches. He definitely would.
A fancy cream and gold carriage rolls up, drawn by two white horses. It’s all a bit ridiculous. I laugh like a little girl as Dimitri helps me in.
Then we settle, and the horses start clip-clopping towards the giant castle in the distance.
I brush my eyes with a white glove.
“Why, pet, are you crying?”
“Just a little.” I sniffle, and laugh. “Why this? Why me?” I try to be brave but my lip wobbles.
“I didn’t want to love again until you,” he murmurs. “I didn’t believe it would be worth the pain. But it didn’t matter, because you believed for the both of us.” Dimitri draws me into his lap.
I lace my arms around his neck, giggling as he kisses my neck. “Are you ready for happily ever after?”
“And beyond.” And when he opens the black velvet case and shows me the sparkling diamond studded collar, I try to act surprised.
The fireworks bloom in the velvet blue around the castle. I hold my vampire, my handsome prince, as we kiss and ride towards the future.
I made my own fairytale ending after all.
The End
Click here to read Charlie & Aurelia’s story, His Captive Mortal, also by Renee Rose & Lee Savino.
About the Authors
Lee Savino and Renee Rose are author besties who share a love of big, bad, bossy Alpha males.
Also by Lee Savino
Also by Renee Rose
Vampire’s Tasty Treat
RJ Gray
Chapter 1
Hitting my head against the desk is frowned upon, but there isn’t anything I’d rather do at the moment. I hate deadlines almost as much as I hate the word limit for our print editions. Who can tell a complete story in three to five hundred words? It happens without fail, the night before we go to print, there is a major update in a story and I have to tear apart what I’ve written and add the pertinent information. I can’t add the information to the bottom, no, that would be too easy. I would be above the word count. We don’t have these issues with our online articles, but alas, there are still people who wanted to hold a paper in their hands.
My furious typing is interrupted by the ping of the phone on the desk next to me. There had better not be another update to the story. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow. We can run an update to the article. As of press time… I type out those four little words ahead of my article, choosing to ignore my phone. Thirty minutes later, the angry buzzing vibration of an incoming call startles me. Looking down at the caller ID, I realize my mistake immediately.
Fuck.
Hope my ass doesn’t have to pay too dearly for ignoring his texts. “Hello, Sir.”
“I texted you, multiple times.” The deep masculine scolding tone is clear, even through the phone.
“I’m sorry. I am distracted by work. We go to print tomorrow.” I spin around in my desk chair, facing the big window that frames the view behind me. It is dark. He must have woken up recently.
“Read your messages, now.”
Take a week off from work. I will be there at 9pm to pick you up. Pack light. One bag.
“Ummm.” Sometimes, I wonder if he knows how the corporate world works. One does not just take a week off of work. We request it months in advance. It is at times like these when I get the feeling that Bentley lives in an alternative universe with its very own rules. I suppose the wealthy do live in their own world.
“Um? Is that how you speak to your dom, Butterfly?”
“Sir…” I clear my throat. My dominant is not used to waiting for my responses to his questions. Not anymore. Not after a year of training. He is also not the type to plan surprises. He has never so much as surprised me with flowers or chocolates, written me a love letter, or taken me dancing… let alone planned an entire week long get away together. His lack of romantic gestures is one of the things I learned to lower my expectations about. After all, he checks off all the other boxes on my list, so what is one little thing compared to all of the ones that he does?
Tall, dark and handsome. Check.
Employed. Check.
Financially secure. Check.
Attentive. Check.
Dominant. Check.
I am also appreciative of the fact that he isn’t two decades or older than me like most of the other dominants at my local BDSM club who look my way are.
After experiencing a long term power exchange relationship, I wouldn’t settle for a vanilla boyfriend; it leaves too many voids in my life. I am simply not satisfied. I tried. I tried so damn hard to settle for a regular old Joe, and be happy. The problem was, I was trying to force a round peg into a square hole, and no matter how hard I tried, it just didn’t fit. I made up my mind. All or nothing. Unfortunately, the pickings were slim until Bentley mysteriously arrived a year ago. What started with him being a one night play partner turned into a long term, monogamous relationship. He is the square hole I was looking for. Or, maybe he is the peg, he fits perfectly inside of me. I hold back my laughter at the thought.
“I believe the words you are looking for are, yes Sir,” he prompts me, bringing me out of my wandering thoughts and back to the conversation.
/> “I want to, I really do, but I don’t know, Bentley. I mean, an entire week?”
“Bentley?”
Fuck again.
I know better. He’s trained me better. We aren’t in public or at a work event. I’m nervous. Why am I so nervous? I should be way past the nervous stage with him.
“That’s two, Butterfly.”
Triple fuck.
Two punishments. I am on a roll tonight. “Sorry, Sir. A week is a long time on a couple hours’ notice.”
“Did you not tell me that you have an abundance of vacation time built up?”
“I did, Sir, yes. But—”
“And did you not tell me that you wanted to spend more time together?” he continues over me.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then I don’t see what the problem is. I arranged for us to spend the week together. All you have to do is let your boss know. Is that going to be a problem, Butterfly?”
He is right, I do have a lot of vacation built up. I’ve worked for the newspaper for a decade, and have only taken vacation twice. Hell, Hank was just in my office a few days ago, asking me to take vacation. He seems to think I need one after I put the senator’s aide in his place.
“Butterfly?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m waiting.”
“I’ll call my boss now.”
“Good girl. I was going to pick you up at nine but now we have some unfinished business to take care of. I expect you to be waiting for me in the corner when I arrive at eight.”
“Yes, Sir.” I sigh in frustration. He knows I hate the damn corner.
“I would get rid of the attitude before I arrive, Butterfly.”
I will never understand how he can possibly know me this well, it is almost like he is reading my mind. We hang up, and I glance down at the clock. Crap. I have a lot to do and very little time to do it.
I hate standing in the corner. I do. I really, really hate it. It is ridiculously boring, and for someone whose mind runs nonstop with a list of things they could be getting done, it can be almost torturous. Which is exactly why Bentley uses it as punishment. Sadist. I lovingly curse him a few times while I wait. I have every damn crack in this wall memorized. Every last one. I’ve spent more than a few minutes standing in this exact spot. A cold breeze rushes over me as the door opens and closes. Stealthy. The military trained him to be. I feel his eyes on me, studying me. No doubt he is inspecting my position.