by Cameo Renae
Heavy footsteps pounded across the wooden floor until they came to a sudden halt directly behind me. I caught a whiff of strong body odor and practically got drunk off the alcohol emanating from whoever it was. If I still had a heart, I imagined it would be bursting through my rib cage and running far, far away.
Damn Trystan. And damn me for believing him.
“Hey, precious.” A firm hand clutched my shoulder, forcing me to turn around. “You’re new here. You lookin’ for a good time?”
I’d read that new vampires had super strength, but I wasn’t about to test that assumption, because three burly, bearded men stood behind me. Their heavy, wasted eyes bore looks of lust and ill intentions.
“No. I’m waiting for a friend. A male friend who should be here any minute,” I responded boldly. “I was just about to head outside and check.”
They snorted, calling my bluff.
I turned to scoot off the stool, but the man’s grip tightened on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d learned self-defense when I was younger but feeling weak and powerless, along with being hemmed in by these broad and extremely drunk men . . . it was of no use.
“Hey, Bart, why don’t you let the young lady go?” the barkeeper suggested, drying a newly washed glass.
“Stay outta this. Unless you want trouble,” Bart slurred, scowling at him.
The bartender murmured and stepped away. The bastard walked away! Leaving me alone with these assholes. Even the young man seated next to me had magically disappeared. Cowardly bastard.
“We want you to stick around, precious.” Spittle flew from Bart’s mouth onto my face. I held my breath, swallowing down the impulse to heave. His breath, a blend of alcohol and whatever food he’d just eaten, violated my nostrils, causing me to gag. “We’ll show you a good time, I promise.” He grabbed his crotch to confirm his point, forcing my entire body to shudder in disgust.
Stepping into this place was a terrible mistake. Trystan had lied to me. Bastard. But it was complete foolishness on my part to put my confidence in someone I didn’t know. And I was naïve enough to show up without a weapon.
“I just need to leave,” I said, attempting to free myself from the man’s steel grip. But I felt very weak. I hadn’t eaten anything in days.
“You can’t leave,” Bart slurred. “I want to give you a tour of my personal room.”
“Hey, jackass!” A powerful voice hollered from behind the men. “The young woman is with me.” All three men wrenched their heads toward the voice, their broad girth blocking any visual contact with my would-be protector. “I advise you to let her go before someone gets hurt.”
“Who the hell are you?” Bart spit his words, his steel grip remaining on my shoulder.
“I’m her personal guard, and if you don’t get your fetid, filthy palm off her, I’ll snap it into pieces.”
My personal guard?
The three men burst into laughter. Then Bart threatened the mysterious man.
“I’d like to see you try.”
As the last word escaped Bart’s mouth, the room fell deathly silent. Suddenly it swelled with the sound of snapping bones. Within the span of a breath, the two men with Bart were curled on the floor, wailing and writhing in agony. Bart instantly released my shoulder, and with a few more snaps, collapsed to his knees, clutching limp, displaced fingers. His screams sounded like that of an injured hog.
“Let’s ditch this joint,” a gentle voice murmured in my ear. Cool breath swept against my neck, causing me to twist back.
A handsome young man, who appeared not much older than me, extended his hand to me. He was around six-feet tall, with the deepest turquoise eyes. Eyes that looked like the sea on a bright summer’s day. Jet-black hair was clean cut and drawn back, but there were a few misplaced strands which had spilled over his sharp-featured, unblemished face. He was attired in black trousers and a black tunic. The belt slung around his midriff held two sharp daggers, one on each side, protected under a long black coat. Even with layers of clothes on, I could tell he was muscular.
He reminded me of Trystan, enough that it made me wonder if they were related.
Without a second thought, I clutched his hand and he promptly led me out the door and into Whisper Forest. I inhaled the clean air, savoring it.
He hauled me along with him, quietly weaving through the dense spruce, alder, and birch trees.
All I could think was . . . Trystan wasn’t a liar. He’d kept his word.
Chapter Four
My hero and I moved in silence for a few miles before he finally halted and faced me. He had to have been a vampire because he was unnaturally beautiful, just like Trystan.
“My name is Kylan. Trystan sent me. I’m sorry I was late.” His melodic tone had a slight accent I couldn’t place.
“Thank you. It’s fine. I mean, I’m fine, so it’s . . . fine.” Gods, I sounded like a fool, stumbling through my words. But a grin raised on his perfect lips. “Where are we going?”
“To a secure place, where you’ll meet the rest of the team.”
I sucked in an abrupt breath. “Trystan sent a team?”
“Yes. His personal cadre.” I detected a slight furrow in his brow, and his tone made him sound almost disappointed. Maybe he didn’t agree with Trystan assigning them to help me. Perhaps he didn’t want to be here either.
“What’s a cadre?” It wasn’t a word I was familiar with.
He hesitated, his eyes scouring the woods, observing, sniffing. When it seemed to be clear, he explained. “We are members of his personal cell, trained assassins dedicated to protecting the Vladu family at all costs.”
Whoa. That was a load to take in. “If you’re trained to protect his family, then why are you here?”
A sneer. “Because I am adhering to Trystan’s direct order. Please don’t judge his actions too hastily, Miss Caldwell. He is trying his best to keep you and your family safe, but his hands are somewhat tied without the blood bond.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know about the blood bond?”
He spun and faced me entirely, eyes narrowing.
“We know everything that concerns Trystan and his household. Everyone within the Vladu coven knows about the bond. There is nothing hidden, especially something as serious as a blood bond, and I am here because rescuing you is his main priority.”
“Why would I be a priority?” I sighed.
“Because Trystan is our prince; therefore, if you choose to seal the bond with him, you will become our princess.”
A prince? I choked on my next breath. “Wait. What? I assumed the reason Trystan had all these resources and a personal cadre was that his family was wealthy. He said he was a pureblood, but he never mentioned anything about being a prince.”
Kylan’s head cocked to the side. Amusement danced in those turquoise eyes. “Would it have made a difference if he did?”
“Yes. I mean . . . no,” I paused, considering what I honestly thought. “I wouldn’t have sealed the bond, if that’s what you’re asking.” I shook my head. “I—I don’t know your prince. He was the one who pursued me. Then he bit me. I had no choice in the matter.” I exhaled, rubbing my throbbing temples. “I can’t . . . I won’t be bound to someone I don’t know anything about or make such a reckless decision that will influence the rest of my life. This is a huge deal to me. Something that can’t be rushed.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. I do understand your dilemma. But I’ll have you know . . . Trystan has never made such an impetuous decision; especially regarding something as serious as a blood bond. You have no idea how many women would die to be in your position.”
I sighed, recalling the night of my birthday party. I’d watched the girls contending for his attention, hurling themselves at him. But he was a vampire, and I was certain his charms and persuasion were considerably greater being a prince.
“Trystan is free to choose any woman he wishes. I won’t bind him to me just because he chose to save my life. Don’t mistake me. I
’m grateful. Incredibly grateful. But being bound to someone for that purpose alone . . .” I hesitated, overwhelmed. “I just turned eighteen a few days ago. I’d like to live life on my own terms for a while.”
“You are the first woman who has ever refused our prince.” He shook his head and repressed a smile. “But admit it. Being bit by a handsome vampire prince was quite a birthday gift.”
Was he serious right now?
I fisted my palms, my nails digging into my flesh. Anger heated my face.
“Your prince’s gift killed me. Literally killed me. I died slowly and painfully. My body felt like it was thrust into an inferno for three gods damned days. Three days!”
He snickered. And it made me want to reach out and claw his perfect face.
He stopped and raised his hands in front of him. “Listen, I get what you’re saying, but just remember, you’ll always have an out. All the running could stop if you consider his offer.”
I scowled at him. “It sounds as if you’re trying to sell me on bonding with your prince.”
Leaning back against a tree, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m simply providing you with some facts. Being a princess is not such a terrible thing. And securing the blood bond could relieve us of senseless complications.”
“Like what?” I huffed.
“Like war and possible death.”
I shrugged, but inside my belly knotted. “It seems that in this new world, war is inevitable, and death is imminent.” Yes, war and death were some significant obstacles, but I was prepared to fight and remain on the run to be free.
He resumed walking, so I followed.
I cleared my throat. “If you are truly who you claim you are—a skilled assassin to the king and his household—then I shouldn’t have anything to worry about, right?”
Kylan flashed a dashing grin. “Right.”
My temples started to throb so severely my eyes were seeing dark spots.
Kylan took hold of my arm, stopping me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I sighed. But I wasn’t. I felt like I was going to pass out. “I suppose I’m just overwhelmed. Three days ago, I was a mortal, and today I woke up a vampire. I was left a letter ordering me to run for my life and then provided a flask of blood from a vampire prince. On top of that, I was nearly molested in a disgusting tavern by some old, smelly drunks. Other than that . . .” I shrugged, presenting him with a large, cheesy grin. “Everything’s just fantastic.”
Kylan’s brow crumpled, his head tilted back with a bellowing laugh. “I’m pleased to see you have a good sense of humor. Most newborns are wickedly moody.”
Kylan was charming and handsome in every respect, making my stomach twist with butterflies. If Trystan hadn’t bitten me, I wondered if — “Could I ask you a question about the bond?”
“Anything,” he replied.
“Trystan said he claimed me by biting me.”
“Yes.”
“What if I refused him? Could I be claimed by someone else? Do I have a choice?”
His brilliant turquoise eyes examined my face, appearing to analyze my words carefully. “You will always have a choice, Calla. Trystan would never force you. But if you choose to bond with another, it could never be with anyone within his kingdom. Trystan has already marked you, and once a pureblood prince marks his mate, it is law that no one from that same coven can claim them. If they do . . . let’s just say, it won’t end well.”
I stopped abruptly, forcing him to stop too. “Wait, wait, wait. Did you say mate?”
“To mark or claim an individual is a serious matter, especially by royalty. But it is not our position to dispute our prince. In all honesty, his father did not take too kindly to the news.”
My head was spiraling. Not only from discovering who Trystan truly was and what he did, but also thinking about what his father—a vampire king—felt about his son’s impulsive choices. I wondered if Trystan informed him about his trip to Sartha, to claim a girl he’d never met, but felt a connection with. A connection from seeing my name on a sheet of paper. The same girl whose grandfather was the assumed murderer of another vampire prince. I didn’t blame the king one bit for having negative feelings toward me. I was a nobody. But I still required an answer.
“When you said it wouldn’t end well . . . what did you mean, precisely?”
“Execution,” he answered firmly. “Of both parties. Usually beheading.”
“Oh.” I swallowed the knot in my throat.
Mental note: Don’t get attached to Kylan.
I could tell I was drawing on his nerves, but I had a thousand questions racing through my mind. If I didn’t get some of them out of my head, it would probably explode. “What about someone outside of the Vladu coven?”
He exhaled loudly, a wary expression in his eyes. “If you decline to tie the bond with Trystan, anyone outside of his kingdom or coven can claim you. But I should caution you. Although the grass may appear greener elsewhere, most of it is dangerous to tread upon.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Kylan picked up his pace, probably wishing he could lose me at some point, but I followed closely, trying my best to keep up and keep quiet.
I didn’t need anyone anyhow. I’d survived eighteen years without a bond. Not to mention, I was not princess material. Trystan’s father would probably prefer he bonded to royalty, anyway. I didn’t wish to be tied to a crown, or laws, or people I didn’t even know or identify with. Being attached to royalty usually had tiresome burdens and obligations connected to it. At least that’s what I thought. I truly had no idea.
Besides, my parents would go mad if they found out I’d made out with a gorgeous vampire on my birthday who bit me and claimed me as his mate. And then they’d murder me if they ever found out I went to the Midnight Tavern and was now running around in Whisper Woods with another handsome immortal.
I cleared my throat, but the bothered expression on Kylan’s face informed me now wasn’t the time to ask any further questions. We were in the midst of Whisper Woods, known for its terrors and hauntings. No mortal in their right mind would ever enter these woods after dark. Not after the countless tales reported about the horrors that lurked within. Which is why I remained close to Kylan, so close I even bumped into him a few times. But he was like stone, unmoving, and continued pressing on. It made me wonder how many damsels in distress he’d rescued before me. Maybe one too many.
After some time, Kylan finally turned to me. “We have a secure place about a half-mile away. If you can keep up, we could get there promptly without running into trouble,” he said, offering me a smirk. “Not that I couldn’t take care of any threat myself.”
“Of course,” I agreed. “I can keep up.” After walking for a few minutes, I finally broke the silence. “So, this rival kingdom, are they positive it was my grandfather who killed their prince?”
He didn’t pause or look at me, but answered, “They wouldn’t have issued the order had it not been confirmed.”
I was still struggling to wrap my brain around the fact there was a major family secret withheld from me. Did my parents know about my grandfather and what he was? Did they honestly believe he was dead, or was it hearsay? “I was informed my grandfather passed before my father was born. I’ve never met him and don’t even know what he looks like. And now I’m being hunted because of him.”
“I’m sorry,” he said gently.
“Is there anything we can do to stop it?”
He finally passed a glimpse in my direction. “Trystan has sought counsel with his father. I’m confident he’ll dispatch a team to investigate.”
“I don’t understand why Trystan is bothering to save me. I mean, none of this applies to him or his kingdom.”
Kylan shrugged. “There are some things Trystan does that cannot be explained. But know this . . . everything he does is done with a great amount of thought and consideration.” He glanced at me with an indecipherable expression. “If I sh
are something with you, please don’t take offense.”
I raised my hands. “No offense will be taken.”
He swung back to me. “None of us—those in his cadre—understand why he is so determined to keep you alive. Or why he would dispatch us away from his kingdom to find and protect you.” He shook his head, combing his fingers through his thick onyx hair. “But that was his order, and we are never to challenge it, especially in his presence. We just do as we are charged.”
I wasn’t the only one questioning Trystan’s motives. For his own cadre to be doubting, increased my confusion. “Trust me. I know how you feel and don’t blame you. I’m still struggling to make sense of it all myself.”
He gave a curt nod, then proceeded again, snaking through the darkened woods as if he knew the twisted tangle by heart.
I caught up to him and had a few more questions. “Do you know who’s hunting me?”
“The kingdom of Morbeth,” he responded.
“Morbeth?” Everybody in Talbrinth knew Morbeth was the country that initiated the Great War. I was a child when the war began. Leaders across Talbrinth were executed, and thousands of innocents were massacred, all because Morbeth, a country who wished to increase their territory, waged a merciless and bloody war in hopes of conquering the entire continent.
They failed. But in their wake, disease and plagues ran rampant and trade had all but ceased, causing food and water to become scarce and costly commodities. Most were struggling, doing whatever necessary to survive.
For a time, the law had become nothing more than what was left in a man’s heart. And most hearts proved to be cruel and evil, even against those they’d once befriended. But it wasn’t long before new rulers emerged, seeking to eradicate their territories of disease and disorder—drawing strength from their militaries to restore law and order, doling out swift punishments to those who resisted. These new leaders shared one common purpose, to rebuild their countries as swiftly as possible.
No one truly knew how these leaders were appointed. Whispers claimed they were figureheads—that puppet masters existed in the background, tugging on their strings.