by Lili Zander
He’s protected me. He’s killed for me. He would walk through fire if I asked.
He’s the missing piece.
“You made a lot of assumptions about what I wanted,” I tell him. “It would have been a lot simpler to ask.”
“What do you want, Raven?”
I remember vividly the first time I took a leap of faith. Overlord Zimmer had told me that my vampires were secretly working for Harek Levitan. That their mission was to imprison me and take me to the General.
That day, I’d faced a fork in the road. I had to choose between fear and hope.
I’d chosen hope.
I don’t want to be protected. That’s never what I wanted. From the moment a scared ten-year-old child entered the re-education camps, all I wanted was to be loved.
I choose hope again.
“You. I want you.”
A smile breaks out on Ragnar’s face. “You have me, little bird. Always and forever.”
33
Raven
I’m naked in bed with my vampires.
The room we’re in faces the ocean. It’s night. The water glistens silver in the moonlight. It’s a clear night, and the sky is filled with stars.
Every available surface is covered with flowers and candles. This time, they’re not wilted. Any other day, I’d tease Ragnar about it.
Not today.
Tonight, if I open my mouth, I might burst into tears. Emotion lies thick in my throat. I love Zeke, Nero, Saber, and Ragnar so much. They are the missing pieces of my heart. They are the deep waters of my soul.
There have been days when I’ve lost hope. Days when I’ve thought that we’d never get here. Days when I believed my blood would never be free.
But when I faltered, they were there to steady me.
Over and over, I’ve seen my blood used as a weapon. Every time I was scratched, I lived in terror that my vampires might come into contact with the virus. Every time I bled, I had to push them away.
In my nightmares, they’ve drunk my blood and died. In my nightmares, I’ve killed them hundreds of times.
There have been so many nights when I’ve lain awake, wondering what the hell I’m doing with them. I’ve been convinced the truest act of love would be to walk away from them, freeing them to love someone else. I’ve hated myself for being too weak to leave.
Dr. Karling flinched every time he saw me. My vampires never once pulled away.
Zeke’s mouth descends on my nipple. He sucks the bud between his teeth and bites, harder than he’s ever done before. I moan out loud. Sharp pleasure fills me.
Another mouth finds the other nipple. Lips descend on me. Nero sucks my lower lip between his teeth. I feel his fangs descend, but he doesn’t bite. Instead, he winks at me. “So impatient,” he teases.
This isn’t a routine bonding. This is the blood bond, permanent and irrevocable. The Shayde Empire has evolved over the ages. Rituals and customs have come and gone, but through all of recorded history, one thing has stayed unchanged.
The blood bond is sacred. It can never be broken. When we drink from each other, and we bind for life. We stand as one. United. Together.
We’ve all come through so much to get here.
I’d tried to argue against it. Ragnar, in particular, is next in line to the throne. If something were to happen to Astrid, he might need to form alliances. I’d voiced these arguments to him last night, trying to be logical about it, and he’d laughed in my face. “I told you,” he’d said. “Always and forever. I meant it.”
Spirit save me from stubborn vampires. “What would Astrid say?”
He’d given me a fondly exasperated look. “Given that she told me to blood bond with you the day she met you, I’m assuming she’ll say that it’s taken me long enough.”
Saber takes Nero’s place. His hand tangles in my hair, and his mouth descends on mine. His tongue teases the seam of my mouth, and I open for him. I feel his kiss everywhere. My toes curl, and my core tightens, and my body ignites with desire.
We’re making a connection that’s deeper than flesh. This is a promise. Heart to heart, soul to soul.
All four of them are touching me, tasting me. Mouths at my nipples, hands squeezing my breasts. Vampires kiss me on my mouth and between my legs. They feast on me. I whimper and cry out, my back arching as heat licks through me. Desire kindles, builds, rages in an out-of-control inferno.
Nothing holds us back today. No fear. No lies. Today, there is just raw passion and soul-shattering intensity.
I come apart in an explosive burst of pleasure so powerful it’s almost pain.
It’s time.
Zeke’s eyes meet mine. He’s smiling. His expression is soft and tender. He kisses me on the forehead, and he breathes me in. As he moves over me, his large body covering mine, I put my hand on his chest and feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. If I am a storm, Zeke is my port. He calms me, reassures me, soothes me, and makes me whole.
There’s a knife in his hand. In the candlelight, the blade looks almost golden. He looms over me, holding the blade to his throat. My heart hammers in my chest. My emotions are so close to the surface. We’ve had sex before, many, many times, but something about tonight is different.
Everything is heightened. Everything is more intense. Tonight, we’re making a commitment to each other, and we all feel the magic in the air. We all feel the call of blood.
Zeke slices a vein open. Hot blood gushes out of the wound, and I press my lips to his throat and drink from him. As his essence mingles with mine, he thrusts deep into me.
I choke back a sob. This is actually happening. I’m overwhelmed. Breathless. Heat gathers between my legs as Zeke pounds into me. He kisses me, his lips hot and demanding, and then he pulls back.
His fangs descend, and he brushes his thumb over the pulsing vein in my throat. An instinctive alarm fills me. The vampires are predators, and I am their prey.
His eyes lock onto me, and there’s an unspoken question in them. “Yes,” I whisper. “Please.” I want this.
His fangs sink into my neck.
For a second, sharp pain shocks through me, and then it’s gone, and pleasure floods in in its wake. I thought I’d feel languor. I thought I’d feel dazed and confused. No, this is something else entirely. I’m exquisitely aware of every nerve ending. My entire body flares to life as Zeke drinks from me. Again and again, he pounds into me, feverish need on his face. His fingers tease my clit, and my moans grow louder. His cock jerks deep inside me, and I fall apart around him.
I float in a sea of bliss.
Then Zeke is gone, and Nero’s brilliant green eyes meet mine. He kisses my forehead, and I wrap my arms around him. When I shake with helpless rage at the injustices of the galaxy, Nero’s there, ready to throw a punch for me. He’s the other side of the coin. He’s my wildness, and I love him.
He positions himself at my entrance. “I love you,” he says, and then he drives into my slick heat. My back arches and I cry out. Blood drips from his cut, and I lap it, greedy for him.
I’m transported by pleasure. My body feels different. Warmer. More alive. My heartbeat quickens. I’ve already come twice, and I thought I was sated, but as Nero buries himself in me, over and over, as he reaches down between my legs to find my swollen clit and rub it, my muscles tense. I cry out. He grips my hips and plunges into me. I whimper and hold on. When we come, seconds apart, it feels like I’m coming home.
I need a few minutes to recover and catch my breath.
It’s Saber’s turn. He looks into my eyes. “I’m always going to be arrogant and high-handed.”
“I know.” Does he actually think I’m going to change my mind, the way Marya had? “I’m always going to call you on it.”
A smile lights his eyes. “Deal,” he says as he cuts his vein open for me. Blood gushes out, and I press my lips to his neck and lick him, taking everything he offers me. A shiver runs through him. His body slides over mine, hard, hot and ready, and his
fangs bite my skin.
My head falls back. He pulls me closer, making escape impossible. I spread my legs wider. I’m not going anywhere, Saber. His fingers part my folds and find my hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves. My heartbeat quickens, my insides tighten. Goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I shiver, my breath coming in gasps as I get closer to my release. He’s there too. I can see it in the strained expression on his face, in the way his muscles clench, in the way he looks at me. “Come for me, kära,” he whispers, and I explode beneath him, and he shudders into me.
He’s mine, and I’m his.
Finally, Ragnar’s weight presses down on me. I stare into his green-grey eyes, my heart racing in my chest. “This is it, little bird,” he says. “Last chance to change your mind.”
I’m ready to cut off his balls when I see the amusement lurking in the corners of his eyes. “I’m joking,” he says, as he cuts his vein open. “I’m never letting you go.” His cock impales me, stretching me as he drives deep into me. I lick blood from his neck, a red fog of lust enveloping me. Then his fangs slice into my skin, and his hot mouth clamps on my neck. He cups my face in his hand, his emotions as raw as mine. A shiver runs through his body and transfers to mine. I’m over-sensitized. Each thrust makes me whimper. Every thrust makes me shake. Then I come, shaking and screaming, and he throws his head back and groans, and he falls apart with me.
I’m blood bonded to Zeke, Nero, Saber, and Ragnar, and they’re bonded to me. My bô is complete.
Epilogue
Raven
Almost all of Starra is domed. The town in which Astrid’s coronation takes place is one of the few exposed places in the capital. Legend says that the first vampire emerged from this spot on Starra. “It’s complete nonsense, of course,” Ragnar had said when I’d asked him about it. “People like their symbolism.”
The platform is a massive, rectangular slab of granite. The Throne of Shayde, surprisingly lacking in ornamentation, sits on one side. A giant fire pit dominates the center. Rust stains dot the stone. Blood.
We line the length of the platform, on either side of the fire pit, waiting for Astrid to make her appearance. The flames burn high, and the heat licks my face.
It’s the night of the coronation. Tonight, every light in Starra has been extinguished. The symbolism is clear. The Empress is the light of her people. She is the living heart of Shayde. Without her, we grope in the shadows. Until she is crowned, there is only darkness.
It’s a bit dramatic, honestly. Then again, vampires think that a jeweled chalice filled with blood makes an appropriate thank-you gift.
Ragnar and Saber flank me. “I don’t know why I needed to get dressed up,” I grumble under my breath. Once again, Talia has made my bodice impossibly tight, and I can’t breathe. My shoes torture my feet. “It’s not my coronation.”
Zeke, who’s standing next to Saber, laughs quietly at my tone. Saber shakes his head. “I told you to burn your shoes.”
“They’re pretty.” And so painful.
“That they are,” Ragnar agrees. His eyes are hooded. “Once this damn ceremony is over, I’m going to strip you naked of everything except the shoes and fuck you hard.”
My nerve endings light up in anticipation. Diana, Astrid’s Chief of Staff, who’s standing opposite us, looks completely scandalized. I bite back my laugh. I like Diana. She’s exceedingly competent and surprisingly helpful, but she’s a big stickler for propriety. Ragnar enjoys needling her. She’s not shocked that Ragnar wants to fuck me. No, it’s the fact that Ragnar called the Empress’ coronation a ‘damn ceremony.’
Mazer’s standing next to Diana. He hears Ragnar too, and his eyes dance with amusement. He opens his mouth to say something, but a gong sounds, deep and resonant.
It’s time.
Astrid alights from a skimmer at the far end of the platform, dressed in white from head to toe. Silence sweeps over the assembled guests as the Empress of Shayde walks down the length of the platform until she reaches the fire pit.
She looks so helpless. One vampire, all alone, surrounded on all sides by encroaching darkness.
A black-clad, masked vampire steps forward and wordlessly hands her a knife. She takes the blade and slices her left palm. Hot blood gushes from the wound.
I know it’s coming, and I still can’t hold back a soft gasp. Ragnar looks down at me with a smile. He laces his fingers in mine before transferring his attention back to his sister.
Astrid holds her hand up over the fire. Her blood drips down, and the flames flare brighter. I see her face, illuminated in the flickering light, and there’s pure iron resolve on it.
The Empress is many things, but she’s never helpless.
The masked vampire opens his mouth. “By what right do you claim the throne?”
Astrid lifts her head high. “I am Astrid, daughter of Luna. The Empire of Shayde is my birthright.”
“Does anyone here challenge Astrid’s claim to the throne?”
Ragnar tenses at my side. He’d told me earlier that if there was going to be trouble, it would be here. He’s prepared for it. Mazer and Ragnar have spent hours drawing up contingency plans and seeding the crowd with their soldiers. No one can be armed here—we’ve all been searched—but I’ve seen my vampires fight. They don’t need weapons to be frighteningly lethal.
Lachlan Clay’s cold stare bores into Astrid, but he stays quiet. Patrik Kevis looks sick to his stomach, but he knows he’s not strong enough to make trouble.
Nobody says a word.
“Astrid’s claim has been recognized,” the vampire intones. “In exchange for the right to rule, what do you pledge to the Empire, daughter?”
She slices her right palm. Blood pours out of the fresh wound and drips down on the flame. “I pledge my blood in service to the Empire.”
“Your gift is accepted. The throne is yours. Take your place, Empress Astrid.”
Astrid walks up to the throne. As she passes us, she winks. Diana looks scandalized all over again. There’s a moment of perfect silence as she stands in front of the unassuming chair, and then she sits down.
Horns blare, screaming, howling and triumphant. War drums beat, their victorious sound pulsing through my veins. Every light in the capital flares into life at the same moment.
Empress Astrid sits on the throne. We’ve done it.
There’s a short speech. I tune it out; I’ve heard Astrid rehearse it plenty of times in Ragnar’s apartment. Then, it’s time for the appointments. “My Ruling Council has served the Empire well until I came of age,” Astrid says, lying through her teeth. Her eyes travel from one member of the council to another. “Patrik Kevis, Lachlan Clay, Bela Karinsky, and Kaleb Nedwa, I thank you for your years of service, and accept your resignations.”
Patrik Kevis looks resigned. Astrid wiped out Family Kevis for daring to go after her brother. He’s not poor by any stretch—he’s down to one estate with a dozen servants, so he’s hardly starving in his old age—but there’s no doubt that Family Kevis’ glory days are in the past.
Kaleb and Bela look relieved. Lachlan Clay, on the other hand, looks like a coiled snake waiting to strike. We’ll have to keep an eye on him.
Astrid continues. “It is time for the Empire to change. To aid me in my quest for a better Shayde, I call on the following people to sit on the Ruling Council and serve the Empire.”
“Ten to one, Ragnar’s going to tear up,” Nero whispers, his teeth flashing in an irreverent grin.
I bite back my laughter. I don’t even dare to look at the look on Diana’s face. She is going to flay us alive after the coronation; I’m sure of it.
“I call on Ragnar Thorsson. Brother, will you serve the Empire?”
Ragnar steps forward. He’s not tearing up. I should have taken that bet, damn it. He takes the knife and cuts his palm. The fire receives his blood offering. “I will serve.”
I’m curious about who Astrid’s going to call next. I already know she’s going to pick Saber and Adam, b
ut the other two spots are a mystery to me. I’d asked Ragnar, and he’d shrugged, seemingly indifferent. “It’s Astrid. Who knows what she’ll do?”
“I call on Mazer Baseran. Friend, lover, and consort, will you serve the Empire?”
My mouth falls open. The holo-networks are going to lose their collective minds. Mazer looks stunned as he walks up, cuts his palm, and drips blood into the flames. “Surprise,” Astrid whispers as he walks up to her and takes his place at her right. Only a few of us—her inner circle—are close enough to hear her words. “I guess I should have warned you, in case you wanted to decline.”
He squeezes her hand, his eyes soft. “I’ve been a foregone conclusion from the day I met you, Empress.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat at the shining look of happiness on Astrid’s face. Nero makes a small sound of satisfaction in his throat. My gaze flies up to Ragnar. There’s a definite sheen of tears in his eyes.
Don’t bet against Nero, Raven. He always wins.
“I call on Saber Hafsson,” Astrid continues. “Cousin, will you serve the Empire?”
“Didn’t give me a choice, did you?” Saber murmurs under his breath. The smile on his face robs his words of their sting. He steps forward, offers his blood, and takes his place.
“A human has never sat on the Ruling Council,” Astrid says, raising her voice to project over the crowd. “It’s time to change that. Adam Masev, will you serve the Empire?”
Shock slaps the faces of several of the guests. Whispers break out. Zeke surveys the throng, his dark eyes taking in the loudest protests. Tomorrow, the new Spymaster of the Shayde Empire will be paying some of them a visit.
Astrid flicks her fingers. The murmurs stop. Adam moves forward into the silence. He picks up the knife—the first human who’s touched the sacred blade—and slices open his palm.
Nero and Zeke move closer to me and lace their fingers in mine. Tears roll down my cheeks, unchecked. The symbolism of his act undoes me. Humans have been refugees. We have been slaves, and we have been servants. We have been food. Now, one of our own sits one step away from the Empress of Shayde. This is such an important moment for us.