by S. K. Yule
And just like that, his soaring heart crashed to the ground in a fiery ball of shrapnel.
“You love me like a brother?”
“Damn it. Why did this have to happen? Why with you?” Alaina’s frown grew as she watched his face.
“With me? Am I that terrible?” He turned around, fists clenched, anger and hurt pouring through every cell.
Alaina went to him and laid her hand on his shoulder.
“You are not terrible at all. That’s not what I meant. You are fantastic.”
“Then what’s the problem?” He spun around and she jumped back.
“Oh, Aldin. I don’t want to hurt you. I do care for you. I do love you, but I’m not in love with you, nor will I ever be. You have to understand that I once loved your brother.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Yes. It was a very long time ago, but I loved him and part of me probably always will even though I know we are through, even though I know there is absolutely no chance for us. I get that, but I screwed up big time with him, with your family…with you. I betrayed all of you. I have tried to make amends, but I know I can never truly make up for what I did to Ebony. It was reprehensible and I’m lucky that all of you could find it in your hearts to give me another chance. But I’m done with Aleksandrov men.”
“It’s not the same. I’m not attached, and I’m willing.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t feel that way about you.”
He reached out and jerked her to him by the arm before slamming his mouth down on hers. This time, she shoved him a bit harder.
“Don’t do this, Aldin.”
He straightened. He’d made a huge mistake. Alaina was definitely not into him the way he was into her, and when he’d kissed her, there were no sparks, no electricity, nothing like he thought would be between them. How had he misread things so badly? He was an idiot.
“I’m sorry, Alaina. I thought you felt something for me.”
“Damn it! I wish I could feel something more for you than brotherly love. Any woman would be lucky to have you. One day, you will find the right woman, the woman made just for you.”
He laughed out loud, something he rarely did. “There is no woman out there for me. There is no woman who can deal with a man like me. I thought maybe you could, but if it isn’t going to happen, it isn’t going to happen. I get it.”
She went to him, but when she put her hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it off. “I think maybe we should spend some time apart.”
“Please tell me I didn’t just lose my best friend.”
When he turned to look at her, her bottom lip quivered. Son of a bitch. He’d definitely fucked this one up royally. He took a deep breath. “You didn’t lose me, Alaina. I simply need some time to wrap my head around what just happened. I’ll come to terms with it and things will be fine between us.”
Alaina nodded. “I’ll see you in a few days?”
“Yeah.”
He watched her go before punching the wall. He’d honestly thought he was in love with Alaina, but the emotionless kiss they’d just shared proved he’d been mistaken. Yet the rawness of her rejection ate away at him.
“Fuck it.” He put his sword and duster back on. He hadn’t been with a woman for months thinking something was going to happen with Alaina. It was time to remedy that.
* * * *
“You know I hate you for this?” Marilena clenched her small fists at her sides.
Ragnor gave a halfhearted attempt at a smile. He’d always love Marilena, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to forgive her for what she’d done. She’d been too blind to see that no matter how hard she tried to intervene, Fate would have her day.
He was the King of Vampyre, yet his existence was a mere legend. He’d chosen to stay hidden away for most of his extraordinarily long life. He had no wish to rule them as a mortal king would rule his subjects. His father had done that, and look where that had gotten all of them. Christos, a god, had been a careless king, and eventually, his actions had resulted in Ragnor being cursed along with his peoples’ revolt.
Not long after a bloody war that had cost countless mortals their lives, Christos had ruled with Riella, Ragnor’s mother. However, his kingdom was never the same, nor did his people trust him again. Finally, Christos had grown bored and returned to the god realm where he promptly forgot about all of humanity, as did most of the other gods.
Ragnor stayed and did what he could, which was little as he was not much more than a boy when his father and mother--forced by his father--abandoned him. Ragnor hated what his father had done, but refused to allow that hatred to rule what kind of man he had become. Holding on to hate, salivating for vengeance was Christos’ way, not Ragnor’s.
While Ragnor was the most powerful immortal in existence, that power came from a curse cast by a pissed off witch on any offspring born from Christos. A pissed off witch his father had bed for his own amusement then cast aside.
Ragnor was the first child born out of that curse making him the Vampyre King. All Vampyre came directly from his family line.
Christos had tried to reverse the curse, however, the only thing he’d been able to reverse was the part where vampyres could only walk at night. The only good thing that came out of the curse was that the line passed on various strengths of the gods. Speed, the healing ability, compulsion, heightened senses, not to mention the unique ability that each vampyre received.
It hadn’t taken long for the vampyre population to increase due to Christos’ lust, but Ragnor’s brothers and sisters had all been killed off over the years, one by one, usually as a result of carelessness. Now, he was the only true blood left other than Marilena—who could be referred to as a true blood since she was his viata amant and shared his blood—and his children.
He closed his eyes at the familiar tinge of pain at the thought that only a few short months ago, he had a beautiful daughter, Estril. But she was dead. An indirect result of Marilena’s actions, albeit how noble they’d been.
Ragnor had been careful and had instilled rules upon his line that would protect them yet never rob them of their free will. Now the time had come for his return. The time had come for him to fulfill his duty.
Someone was after his family. And while his visions gave him glimpses of the future, the future was a prickly bitch that only allowed him to see what it wanted, which at times, wasn’t much. The uprising had been prophesied for years and involved his sons. Once they all found their viata amants, they could come into their true blood, ancient powers. When that happened, the uprising, the war, would occur.
Until now, Marilena had talked him into letting her handle that information. It had been the biggest mistake of his life, and may ultimately prove the downfall of his bloodline once and for all.
“Hate me all you want, Marilena. You’ve never been shy to do whatever you thought best, even if it wasn’t the right thing to do.” Ragnor was tired of fighting with her.
She was his viata amant, and she had taken his children and left him after he told her about the prophecy. Her anger, born from the belief that he was capable of stopping what was prophesied to happen, had fueled her determination to keep his family from him.
“Why won’t you stop this? Our children could die! One already has.” Marilena pleaded with him.
His heart ached. “Why will you not believe me when I tell you that I cannot stop what is fated? Do you honestly believe that I would put our children in a situation that could result in their deaths if I had the power to stop it? You are bonded with me. You can feel my powers, know what I am capable of, but even that has failed to open your eyes to the truth.”
“You can stop it. I know you can!” Tears streamed down Marilena’s face.
He’d never seen a more beautiful woman, never wanted another woman like he’d wanted her—still wanted her.
“Enough!” He took her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “This is the last time I will tell you. I. Can’t. Stop. Thi
s.” He sighed in resignation. “I am powerful, but even true bloods have limits. I cannot alter Fate. No one can. She is a force of her own. A force unrivaled.”
Marilena beat her small fists against his chest until her body began to quiver then she slid to her knees. He followed her down and held her to him.
“Damn it, woman. Why do you have to be so stubborn? It is time to stop acting like a child. We must make this right.” He stood and held his hand out to her. “Come now. We have much to do. The first thing is to set Uriah free and hope he doesn’t hate both of us.”
Marilena sobbed then bowed her head in defeat. “Promise me that you will do everything in your power to save our children.”
“That is a promise I can make easily for I love them as much as their mother. But my love for you has led me to make too many bad decisions, led me to remain silent in the background when I should have been roaring and screaming. That time is over.” He smiled sadly, reached out, and let the backs of his fingers trail down her lovely face.
How he’d ached for her. It had been torture being separated from his viata amant for so many years, but he hadn’t been willing to force her to stay by his side. She had free will, and he’d never treat her as property like his father had his mother. After all that had happened, he wondered if he should have dragged her back to his side where she belonged.
Did she ever miss him or had her hatred eaten away all of the love they had once shared? Then and there, he made a vow to himself. If they all survived the upcoming war, he’d claim her once again. And no force born of all creation could take her from him again.
Chapter Three
Wilhemina Jenkins stared at the door that led into the bar. It had been years since she’d been in the Midwest. She’d grown up in a small town called Plainview, but had left shortly after graduation. She’d planned to become a big time journalist, and a small town was not conducive to those dreams. See how well that panned out for you?
She was an accomplished writer, but competition on the East Coast was brutal. Her dreams had been crushed time and again. She’d been passed over for promotions left and right. The job always went to the man, no matter how much better qualified she’d been.
Women had come a long way in this world, but it was definitely not a woman’s world as she’d heard some call it. She’d found out the hard way that unless she could magically grow a dick and testicles, she was not going to climb her way up anywhere in the journalism world anytime soon. She got plenty of work, but she didn’t care to spend her time and talent writing advice columns on cleaning or, worse yet, sex. Like she had any advice to give on sex. Hell, she’d just turned twenty-eight and had never had it.
She sighed. She’d missed out on so much while trying to get somewhere she was doomed to never reach. A few weeks ago, she’d given her life a long, hard look and had decided to quit her job, move back to Plainview, and try her hand at another dream. Writing a novel. She hoped she wouldn’t waste her time, sweat, and hard work on this new dream to fail yet again. She squared her shoulders. She was about to remedy one thing. She was going to get laid tonight if it was the last thing she did.
She’d heard about Drake’s through the grapevine. It was a swanky bar in St. Louis that was rumored to attract some very hot men, and she was ready to meet a hot man that would knock her socks off—her panties too if she had anything to say about it.
She’d been on the verge of changing her mind on the drive there, but damn it, it was time for her to have some fun. Besides, there was nothing wrong with a girl getting a little action if she wanted to. It was the twenty-first century after all. She frowned and dug through her small purse for the tenth time to make sure the condoms she’d placed inside the small zipped compartment earlier were still there. What the hell do you think, Wilhemina? The condom fairy came and took them? She snorted, trying not to contemplate what exactly the little fairy would leave in exchange.
She took a deep breath and walked through the door then promptly gasped. Holy shit! I am so out of my league. The place was beyond posh. It was darker inside than most of the bars she’d visited, but light enough for her to see the décor. Red walls, black leather, overstuffed booths with dark wooden tables, and a huge, polished dance floor with flickering lights were only a few of the garnishments. She smoothed her hands down her sides, wondering if she was underdressed for the place, but another glance around showed that casual was accepted.
The music was loud, and the bass rumbled the floor under her feet. She made her way to the bar, got a shot of tequila, and went to search for a table in the corner so she could scope the crowd for prospects. Prospects? Geez. You sound like a freaking hooker. Had she completely lost her mind? She slid into the cool seat, wondering if she’d just made a huge mistake. Relax. You can still have a good time. True. It wasn’t written in stone that she actually had to sleep with someone.
Just when she’d decided to squash her plan to find a one-night stand, the sexiest man she’d ever seen walked through the front door. Her jaw nearly hit the floor when she gaped in awe of his perfection. She whistled low under her breath. Maybe this would be a good night after all. Yeah, but how do I get something like that to look at an average girl like me? She sighed. She wasn’t bad looking, but he was way out of her league. No doubt he preferred blondes with big tits and legs up to their necks. Her red hair and short to average legs with a few extra pounds on the thighs simply wouldn’t cut it. Oh well. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view.
* * * *
Aldin found himself at Drake’s for the second time that night. It was no less crowded than when he’d met Alaina earlier, and he wasn’t surprised to see that the club’s number of human patrons was climbing. When the building had been rebuilt after the fire, word had gotten out about Drake’s to more than just vampires. It hadn’t been unusual for a human to wander into the club here and there before the reopening, but it hadn’t been the norm.
He took a long, deep breath. He needed to lose himself, and forget about the mess he’d made with Alaina. He needed a woman. As he began to think sifting through the crowd might prove difficult, he spotted a redhead sitting alone in a corner booth. And damn if she wasn’t fine.
As if she’d felt his eyes on her, she looked directly at him and gaped before smiling. Oh yeah. If he had anything to say about it, he and Red were going to go for a long, hot, sweaty ride. He knew from experience that the women who came here were no delicate flowers. Deciding she’d be able to handle him, he ordered two beers and started in her direction.
* * * *
Wilhemina squirmed in her seat when Mr. Sexy walked toward her. How in the hell had she attracted the attention of something like that? Damn. Her hormones were practically doing somersaults as she watched his approach. His long legs only added to his seriously yummy swagger.
“Hey, baby. You all alone?”
She jumped, startled by the voice beside her. She’d been so enamored by tall, dark, and gorgeous that she hadn’t noticed the blond man’s approach. He was nice enough looking with his blue eyes and sharky smile, but he didn’t compare to Mr. Sexy. Not to mention he called her baby, which she absolutely detested. If there was a sure-fire way for a man to get shot down by her, it was to call her baby.
“No. I’m waiting for a friend.” God, she hoped she was waiting for a friend.
“How about a dance while you’re waiting? I’m Roger, by the way.”
“No, thank you.”
Obviously, Roger wouldn’t take the hint if it came in the form of a two-by-four across the back of the head.
“Come on.” He gave her arm a tug.
“Let me go please.” She resisted, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Aw. Don’t be like that.”
“I believe the lady asked you to take your hands off of her.”
She and Roger looked up to find Mr. Sexy standing not a foot in front of them. Holy hell, the man was huge. And his low, gravelly voice sent shivers down her spine. The hairs on the back
of her neck stood on end as if to warn her that this was the ultimate predator. Yet she couldn’t find it in herself to take that bit of information as a bad thing.
Roger let her arm drop immediately upon seeing Mr. Sexy’s imposing frame looming over him.
“Sorry, baby,” Roger murmured as he skittered like a frightened bunny off through the crowd.
“Thank you.” The words left her mouth in a breathless whoosh.
“You’re welcome. Would you like a beer?” He held up the extra bottle.
“Sure. Would you like to sit?”
He nodded before sliding in beside her. The leather of his long duster creaked as he sat down. He was close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him. Her mouth went dry as she tried not to gape. Up close he was nearly more beautiful than words could describe. He was not only sexy, but sex practically oozed from every pore of his golden, flawless skin.
Huge, muscular, and dark hair cut short on the sides but longer and spiky on top. His lips were fuller than any man’s should be and begged to be kissed. Her fingers curled around the beer bottle as she imagined how his hard muscles would feel under her hands. The shadow of stubble on his jaw gave him that rugged, don’t-fuck-with-me look, and she wondered if she’d get whisker burn on her face from his kisses.
Her cheeks flamed hot when she thought of how she’d like to get stubble burn on other areas of her body as well. This man was making her hot, making her want to do things with him she’d never imagined she’d want to do with a man she’d just met. That very instant, she decided that if he invited her to his place, she’d go without pause. If she was going to lose her virginity, she’d be absolutely happy to lose it to him. She had a feeling he could make her toes curl, her eyes cross, and fulfill every fantasy she’d ever had and then some.
“I’m Aldin.”
Unique name for a unique man.
“Wilhemina.” She pursed her lips, wondering if he’d laugh at her name. Most people did.