The Last Vessel (The Chronicles of Luna Moon Book 1)

by Winter Rose

  I concentrated on the bond within me, and I found … nothing. I tried again. Never before had this happened. I usually could pull my brother’s essence, like I could pull breath to my lungs … Nothing.

  Something’s wrong. I could always feel my brothers, even when they were sleeping. Come to think of it now, I could feel Eros and Magnar, and they were terrified. Fucking moron! I was so absorbed with my own shit, that I didn’t realize something had happened. Something bad.

  Without giving the capital a second glance, I changed direction. All I needed to do was to get there. I needed to assess what has happened before I freak out. Everything will be okay. It has to be.

  As I neared the portal, Eros’ panicked voice filled my mind.

  Vulcan, mate, get back quick, it’s Luna … Ehre, he’s in serious trouble.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Standing in an armory that was bigger than The Estate’s great hall, it took all my willpower not to touch everything. Rows of swords, lances, knives, axes, and other weapons that I had yet to distinguish lay before me as far as the eyes could see. Ehre’s green eyes pierced into my skin. Even when looking at me, he was so intense.

  I conveniently made myself busy examining the nearby arrowheads, pretending not to feel him gazing into my very soul.

  “You’re late,” he said after a few beats.

  I sighed, “Do you ever take that stick from your arse?” I turned on my heel to see his bemused expression. As soon as it flickered into existence, his cool indifference chased it away.

  “Pick one,” he narrowed his eyes at me before turning and exiting through the door.

  “Arsehole.” I mentally shook myself, too excited to be pissed off for long.

  Suppressing a girlish squeal, I began to take in the gravity of this room. The stories that the metal would tell if it could speak. I walked toward the shorter blades, my usual weapon of choice. Because of my size and stature, long swords were more difficult to control. My hands brushed against the intricate hilts of a pair of throwing knives as I marveled at the craftsmanship.

  I walked further into the room, letting the metallic and leather smell soothe my shot nerves. This is where I was comfortable, not as an all-powerful, dress-wearing, ball-attending Vessel, but here, in an armory. A short sword caught my eye, a larger weapon than my normal choice, but something about it pulled at my soul.

  The scabbard was dark wood, letters or runes, whatever it was I didn’t understand, were etched into its surface. Silver adorned its locket and chaps in an intricate pattern. The hilt of the sword was wickedly beautiful, and there was a large milky stone in the pommel that pointed into the shape of a crescent moon—the same symbol that rested between my shoulder blades.

  As I moved, the stone changed color in the light, reveling pinks and blues within its milky depths. I ran my fingers over the weapon, and I swear it heated in greeting. The rain-guard and cross guard pointed into beautiful leaf shapes. I clasped the grip, smiling at how perfectly she fit into my hand, before pulling the blade from its hibernation. She sang to me in a greeting.

  The blade was ridged, the same symbols adorned its surface. I released a breath and began to test our compatibility in a series of fluid motions. After several moments, it felt as though the blade was no longer a separate entity but an extension of my own body. Like she had been mine forever, and we had somehow been reunited. Crazy, I know.

  I stopped to marvel at her beauty, completely overwhelmed with the way a blade made me feel. I pressed my palm against the edge, testing how sharp it was. The instant I applied the slightest pressure, my blood rose to her polished surface in a greeting. I was unable to tear my gaze away from the blade decorated in my blood. The crimson liquid entranced me as it rolled down its edges. I was frozen; the only sound I could hear was my rapid heartbeat in my ears.

  I had no idea that I wasn’t alone until Magnar’s shadow towered over me. I looked up to see his amber eyes blazing as he took my wounded hand. My skin heated as he stroked the back of my hand with his thumb, his eyes never leaving the ruby beads as they rolled down the inside of my arm.

  “Interesting weapon you chose there, little thief,” he whispered as another drop fell from my elbow to the floor.

  “I …” my voice failed me. Magnar’s eyes finally lifted to my own, and I nearly choked from the hunger with their depths. My heartbeat quickened but not from fear, like any sane person would feel. I could feel another cool drop roll down my arm. Magnar closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Once he opened them again, the blaze within them had dimmed only slightly. I couldn’t help leaning into his scent, leather and deep chocolate enveloped me. Small shivers ran across my skin as Magnar gripped the wrist under my injured palm. The movement made the cut sting, and it took everything in me not to moan.

  “You have no idea what you are doing to me, do you?” he whispered, barely audible.

  “What?” I was feeling a little bold, noticing the way his pupils dilated as he watched my lifeblood spill. The blood that now covered his fingers.

  “Your blood is more powerful than any Siren’s call. You need to be careful when spilling it.”

  “I was just testing if the blade needed sharpening.”

  Magnar chuckled, “this blade is made of Moonash. The only thing in the worlds stronger than Dragons’ teeth.” He dragged his gaze from my palm, sparing the blade once last glance before he looked into my eyes. “This particular blade was a gift from Athena. We brought it back from Mount Olympus ourselves. In all the realms, there is nothing sharper than that blade.”

  “I didn’t realize. I will put it back.” Before I could return the sword, Magnar clasped my other wrist so that he now held each of my arms in his steel grip.

  “The blade is filled with the goddesses’ magic. She was created for you, Luna; we only kept her safe. No other could pull the blade from its sheath. By sacrificing your blood to her, you have bonded the blade to you. I don’t think you would be able to leave it behind if you tried.”

  The Moonash glinted in the light.

  “Can you feel the magic within her, within you?” I nodded; an invisible thread had wrapped around us both. “She is now an extension of your own body, use her wisely. Your intentions can sometimes be more dangerous than the weapon you weave.”

  I looked into Magnar’s face; stray hairs had dropped from his braid, tickling the tops of his cheekbones. His heated gaze made my brain stop working. Everything about King Magnar Dracar demanded attention.

  “If you had any doubts that you were the last Vessel, this should have chased them away.” His scent dominated all my senses, alluring; I wanted to wrap it around me like a blanket. I was completely losing it.

  “I don’t know what I am doing,” the confession left me in a whisper.

  “None of us do, trust in your instincts, Luna. Once we are bonded, your magic will awaken, but your instincts already know what you are. They always have.” Magnar took a step closer; the gap that remained between us felt like an eternity. I needed more … I needed …

  “You have not fed today, little thief,” I could feel his voice all over my body, I was consumed by him. “The way you are reacting to my scent shows that you thirst for my blood.” My stomach clenched, and my legs threatened to give way, the hunger in the pit of my stomach stirred ferociously. “Yes, your eyes are giving away your hunger. Why do you deny your instincts? Was it not the most exquisite thing that you have ever tasted?” his eyes dropped to my lips, which opened of their own accord.

  “You cannot deny that you loved the taste of my blood in the wine,” he bent his head down so that his breath fanned my ear. “I saw the way your eyes dilated when you swallowed it. I smelled your need for more.” He closed the gap between us, the cool bite of the axe against my back tormented my sensitive flesh.

  “You only tried a taste of me, Luna, and that was tainted with the wine. Would you like to try more?” my knees gave way, his grasp on my wrists the only thing that kept me standing. “Wou
ld you like for me to open my vain for you, right here?” I thought my heart would beat from my chest. “Would you like to wrap those beautiful lips around the opening and pull my essence within you?” I couldn’t simulate a sentence; all I could do was feel his skin against my own, smell the deep waves of lust that radiated from us both.

  “It is time that you gave into your destiny, little thief, drinking blood is in our nature.”

  Then to prove his point, Magnar flattened his tongue against the inside of my elbow. With torturous precision, he followed the scarlet line inside of my arm. Over the hammering pulse in my wrist, his tongue continued, until it ended on the wound at the center of my palm.

  My eyes were closed, and my breath caught as I melted into the sensations his tongue created. He licked the open wound like a cat would cream.

  “I will give you all you desire and more Luna, all you need do is ask.” He planted a chaste kiss on my palm, and when I opened my eyes, he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Magnar

  “Shit,” I grunted, tucking my rock-hard cock up against my waistband. “That woman will be the death of me.” The second I thought about Luna, those silver eyes flashed into my mind. The way that they rolled back as I tasted her sweetness was bloody maddening. Her blood. Shit, in all my lifetime, I have never tasted anything as intoxicating. It had taken every ounce of control that I possessed not to sink my fangs into that pale, flawless throat.

  “Thinking about our little Vessel, hey, brother?” Eros quipped, his smug, lazy smile making me want to punch it from his face. The Siren was leaning against the wall as he took a deep sniff and smiled wickedly.

  “You reek of lust and what’s this …” he walked closer, circling me like a Wolf, sniffing the air once more. “Her blood?” His eyes were a mixture of bemusement and jealousy, an emotion that I was yet to see from the Siren.

  Over the years, Eros had many sexual partners, men and women both. Lust for him was like blood for me, and where there is lust, sex will soon follow.

  “It’s not what you think, Eros, don’t get your tail in a knot.” I turned around from his questioning gaze and made my way to one of the fields that we used for target practice. I had intended to do more strategizing for the impending battle, but fuck me, I needed a release for this pent-up frustration. I also had to wait until my scouts returned.

  “She’s still finding this hard to believe you know” Eros sighed, falling into line. “She believes this is all a bad dream that she will awake from.”

  “I’m finding it hard to believe myself. It was lifetimes ago that she was promised to us.” Voicing my concern and hearing my brother hum in agreement lifted some of the pressure in my chest.

  “It’s difficult not to take her. After waiting all these years, I have to keep reminding myself that she has only known of us for two days. She has no idea that she’s ours.” I could agree with Eros, waiting so long for someone that was promised by the Oracle, to be the other half to your whole, was the cruelest form of punishment. Knowing that with her coming, also meant that the world was in danger, made the fact that I was happy all kinds of fucked.

  When I saw her that day in my bathing room, my whole world came into focus. The violent way my body demanded that I had to take her, like I would air in my lungs, frightened me.

  “We cannot push this brother; we only get one chance.”

  “I agree, Eros, but I also fear that bonding with her before she gets to know us could be dangerous. What if she rejects the men that we are?” I had shed so much blood in my lifetime, and Luna was so young, I feared that she would never comprehend my past, let alone understand the things I have done. “I am not the man I once was when the Oracles told us of the prophecy.”

  “Do you not want that?” I couldn’t quite work out if Eros was sad or happy about the idea of me not wanting Luna.

  “No, I want all of it. I have dreamed of nothing but this. But I have done things, we have done things that …” I sighed, unable to finish my sentence.

  “I think you will find that our girl is a lot more understanding than you fear, brother.” Eros smiled a secret smile. I felt a pang of jealousy,

  “I feel jealous when I think of you and her together,” I admitted, surprised at my own revelation.

  We had shared lovers over the years, most of us have. My brothers were part of my very being, but I was not accustomed to this feeling.

  “I can remedy that brother.” Eros’ eyes twinkled with mischief. I looked over to him; his skin was glowing, which meant he had recently fed.

  “Yes?”

  He leaned in as if he was about to spill a dark secret.

  “We will have to make sure that we practice sharing her … time then, brother.” Eros winked at me before lengthening his stride, and I groaned as my cock throbbed once more.

  “Sire, the scouts are back!” Lochlan, one of my guards, galloped toward me, waving his hands like a madman. Eros and I ran to him as he dismounted from his horse.

  “Lochlan, you are bleeding; where are you hurt?” I asked, concerned for my old friend.

  “It is not my blood, Sire; Jabare is back from the east with reports of a Demon army. You both must hurry, there isn’t much time.” Sharing a look of concern, we both ran beside the horse. I was impatient, having to slow my pace on several occasions so that I did not outrun the beast. We reached the watchtower, several of my men were stationed outside, each bowed at our presence.

  “Jabare?” I asked.

  “In here, Sire. We sent for the healers, but we fear that we are too late.”

  I followed the men inside the entrance, several of my guards surrounded a table.

  “Hold him down,” one of them asked.

  “Your Majesty,” one of the men said when he saw me and bowed, parting the way to a bloodied, broken man.

  Jabare had been a member of the elites for over one hundred years. He was a Griffin shifter and one of my best men.

  “Jabare, my old friend, it is Magnar, can you hear me?”

  “Let me take a look,” Eros said as he pulled back the shirt that revealed five ugly gouges in his abdomen. Blood gushed freely, but a wound like that should have healed itself. He wasn’t healing.

  “Why isn’t he healing?” I asked.

  “Can you not smell it?” Eros said under his breath. I opened my senses to the foul odor that polluted his blood.

  “S … Sire” Jabare’s eyes flitted open as he tried to lift his head.

  “Hush old friend,” I grabbed hold of his shoulders, lifting him against me.

  “They are coming … the army.” His face, usually a rich dark color was grey and sickly. Blood trickled from his mouth as he tried to talk. “I tried—” His words ended on a wince as Eros tested the rough flesh around his wound.

  “Is there anything that you can do, brother?” I asked Eros, desperately.

  “I could try to pull the poison out but … I need water.”

  “You heard the man!” I bellowed, terrified that I would lose my friend. My men moved instantly.

  “Keep him talking Magnar. I need you to remove your shirt and press down here. Keep the pressure on it.”

  “How far away is the army Jabare?” I asked, shaking him slightly to stop his eyes from fluttering closed.

  “A fortnight’s ride from here,” he whispered. Shit, that was no way near enough time.

  “Here, Sire.” John, another guard, passed a barrel of water to Eros who lifted the seal and closed his eyes.

  After taking two cleansing breaths, the Siren’s magic pulled the water out from the barrel. Like a giant dewdrop, the water bubble floated in the air until it reached Jabare’s motionless body. Once the water touched his skin, it began to move along his side until it covered the wound. His blood began to mix with the water, changing the color from clear, to pink, to black.

  “Magnar, your blood.” Without a second thought, I extended my fangs and bit into my wrist, making sure the wound was too big to clos
e instantly.

  “Drink deep, my friend.” There was only a beat before I felt his lips quiver under my wrist as he began to drink. After a moment, the putrid smell began to ease as though the Siren’s water magic was pulling the disease from the shifter’s body.

  “Is it working?” I asked Eros, unable to see what was happening under the water. Fuck I hate being out of control. He didn’t reply, with his brows furrowed then his head down; Eros looked as though he was in deep prayer.

  Minutes passed with Eros in a trance which I didn’t disturb. Jabare stopped drinking, and his head lolled to the side.

  “Jabare! Eros, what the fuck is happening?” Eros opened his eyes as he pulled the water back toward him and into the barrel. The water was now an inky black color. Jabare’s labored breathing echoed around the deathly silent room. I moved my gaze over his face then down to his torso. The gash had gone. There was no sign that he had been injured.

  What in all the gods? I looked over to Eros. His expression echoed my confusion.

  “The healers are here, Sire,” someone called. We all parted ways to allow them through.

  “His heart is strong, a bit pale but no sign of sickness; where are this man’s wounds?” I heard them say, unable to speak; I just continued to stare at the torso that was ripped and open only moments ago.

  “They are gone,” someone whispered. It felt as though everyone in the room was shooting us nervous glances.

  “I believe that Jabare here will be fine,” Gimsly, the old healer, said slapping Eros on the back. A few seconds of silence followed before each man in the room cheered. Nobody dared ask the questions that plagued them.

  How the fuck did we do that? Eros’ thoughts filled my own.