Favor: The Kresova Vampire Harems: Lyra

by Graceley Knox

  “Knew what?” I whisper the words, our lips only a breath away from each other.

  “I knew that-” A loud crash from inside the house startles us both and we jump away from each other, the moment lost.

  “Um, Lyra! Slight problemo!” Reina shouts from the door.

  Glass shatters and I groan. The first pissing match has apparently begun. I run inside, watching as one of Abhartach’s Dak’s face off with one of Damon’s men. They’re growling and hissing at each other, deadlocked in each other’s grip.

  “Oh for fucks sake!” I shout, clapping my hands. “Break it up you two idiots.” I step forward to get between them, but Damon’s hand on my shoulder halts me. He moves around me, breaking the pair up instead.

  “Enough!” he growls at the wolf, who backs down instantly. He shoves at the vampire who advances again. “That goes for you too.” He points a finger at him. “I don’t know what the hell happened here, but don’t let it happen again. We’re all here for the same reason. Fighting amongst ourselves only weakens us.”

  He’s one hundred percent right. That small bubble of hope that I’d started the day with pops, and I rub at my temples. I’d thought we could go at least a few days before the first skirmish, but apparently my assumption that we could all behave like adults was incorrect.

  The vampire looks to Abhartach, who nods his head, and then he stands down. Fucking great. My father is over here, telling his followers god only knows what about the wolves and their intentions towards his beloved daughter and it’s already creating tension.

  “Clean this shit up. Now. And before anyone else gets any other ideas, let me make this crystal clear.” I spin in a circle, catching the gaze of every person in the room. “If this happens again, whoever is involved will be removed from the premises. Permanently. We don’t have time for ancient customs and bullshit pissing matches. I don’t care if you’re here by my wish, Abhartach’s wish, Aurora’s wish, or Callahan’s wish. Anyone who can’t control themselves, is gone.” I raise a brow. “Got it?”

  A chorus of yeses greet my ears and I nod. “Good.” I leave the morons responsible to pick up the debris from their fight and head towards the garage. I need to get the hell out of this castle for a while. Away from everyone who expects something from me.

  I breeze past Damon as I grab a pair of keys off the rack.

  “Where are you going, Lyra?” he asks, his tone a bit too possessive for my current state of mind.

  I don’t look over my shoulder before I slam the door behind me, muttering, “Anywhere but here.”

  Chapter 4

  There’s nothing a large mug of Irish stout can’t cure.

  Right now, this one, technically my third, is doing the trick. I raise the stein to my lips again and sip. Dark and chocolaty with a smooth, spicy bite. Exactly what I needed.

  Voices chatter and laughter echoes from under the low thatched rooftop. Perfume and cologne mingled with sweat and stewed meat linger in the air. In the corner, a trio of musicians play Irish classics, no doubt for the tourist group taking up most of the bar.

  I sigh and huddle further into my corner, wondering what life would be like without all the bullshit baggage I carry.

  Seriously, Hamlet doesn’t have shit on me.

  Our twisted history takes family drama to a whole other level. I know I didn’t have a choice. I know my father forgives me—and yet I can’t shake this sick ache in the pit of my belly.

  Guilt. It’s a slow poison, killing me every day where humanity failed.

  You had to survive.

  That voice in the back of my mind always reminds me of this fact. Like I could forget what it took to survive. Pain. The acceptance and eventual love of it. And though I should be happy, having my father back, and Morana weakened, I find myself twice as emotionally fucked as before. And now I just need to be alone.

  But I’m not left to my own devices for long. Heat flares up my skin like the warm sun rising on frigid mountains peaks.

  “If you’re trying to escape unseen, don’t make is so easy to follow you.”

  Damon. I’d recognize the rough, sandpaper honey voice anywhere. It’s like the damn thing has been branded into my mind. He stands to my left, dressed the same as I’d last seen him. His towering frame squeezed in between me and the poor tourist on his other side. Sandalwood and fresh soap drift from him in a delicious combination. Down girl.

  “And if I wanted company, I would’ve asked for it.” I say before chugging the rest of my beer. I let the remnants trail down my jaw before wiping it clean and facing him. “You don’t listen much, do you?”

  He winks, “Now what would be the fun in that?”

  The barkeep walks by and takes my empty glass. “Another?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He nudges his head toward Damon, “And you?”

  “The same.” Damon leans his forearms onto the bar and turns to me. “You know, it’s never good to drink alone.”

  I waved my hand in the air, “Look around. I’m not alone.”

  “A crowd of strangers—”

  “Is the best kind of crowd,” I say, finishing his thought before he can.

  Two fresh glasses of Irish Stout are placed before us and I quickly thank the barman and slip him a hundred Euros. Instead of smiling, he eyes me a moment before slipping the money into his tip bin.

  The tourist on Damon’s other side finally gives in and vacates his seat, giving him even more reason to linger. He glides into the leather before he picks up his mug, making the giant glass appear tiny in his large hands. “So, why’d you run off?”

  I hate how he thinks he can just sit down and have a normal conversation with me like we’re old friends.

  “Oh, I don’t know?” I sit forward, placing my chin on my palm and playing along, “The last forty-eight hours, maybe even the last week, have been a mind fuck on my entire existence. I guess you could call me a little—what’s the word? Discombobulated.”

  He doesn’t respond, instead he raises a brow at my little act.

  “Look, I just want to be alone.”

  “Well that’s too damn bad.” He says before taking another drink.

  I narrow my eyes, “Excuse me? Who in the bloody hell do you think you’re talking to? I’m not one of your pack fangirls just dying at your feet to be rescued.”

  “That’s right.” He lowers his voice and brings his face an inch from mine, “You’re a vampire queen with a massive target on her back.”

  “And you’re an arrogant Wolf who needs to mind his own damn business.”

  “Like I said, precious. Too. Damn. Bad. Because I’m already here.”

  I wave my hand dismissively. “Then leave.”

  “Make me.”

  I swear my skin must be a bright cherry red because this man is pushing my buttons like no other. “Don’t you have a full moon to be howling at or something?”

  He keeps his eyes fixed on me, but seconds later, a wide smile covers his face and a deep, hearty laugh chuckles out of him. Unexpected—and thoroughly sexy.

  “For a major pain in the ass, you’re quite funny.”

  I scowl, “I’m glad someone’s having a good time.”

  “I’m just trying to make polite conversation, you ever heard of it?”

  “I’m sorry,” I place a hand to my chest feigning embarrassment, “I was raised by wolves so my social skills may be lacking.

  It’s not smart to bate a Wolf. Like vampires, they possess unique powers that can make them a formidable enemy. I learned this the hard way, so I should know better than most to keep my mouth shut.

  The muscle in his jaw ticks a few times and I can’t tell if it’s out of anger—or humor. The world pauses for a beat before he speaks, “Seriously though, what’s up your arse?”

  “Can you stop mentioning my ass?”

  He leans back in his chair and his gaze rakes up and down my body. Shit. Between the alcohol and the look in his eyes, I'm treading turbulent waters. V
ampire or not, enough wine in the bloodstream has an impact.

  “It’s a nice ass.”

  “Forget it.”

  I start to rise but he fastens his hand over mine. “Wait. Just . . .” He runs the other hand through his dark hair, “fecking hell, do you ever stop?”

  “Not until I get what I want.”

  “I guess we have that in common.”

  “Well look at us,” I jerk my hand free, “We’re on our way to being best friends already.”

  He leans back into the barstool, crossing his arms as his shoulders rest against the metal backing. He dips his head to the side, his grey eyes studying me like a damn animal at the zoo.

  “What?”

  He shakes his head, “I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  “You’re angry.”

  He’s right. I am angry. I’m beyond fucking livid with just about everything and everyone.

  “You know nothing about me.”

  “I know you want revenge, that much is clear. And that you’re conflicted, guilt ridden, in pain.”

  “Yeah? And what do you know about it?” I lean toward him, the rage in me wild and tired of being restrained. “Being sent one place to die—and then when that doesn’t happen, being forced into servitude, and not just any servitude, but forced to protect the monster who stole everything from you? The bitch who drank your father into a coma? Is that the anger you’re talking about?”

  When I finally finish my tirade, the once noisy pub is now dead silent.

  Damon hasn’t moved an inch, he’s too fixated on the downward emotional spiral I just demonstrated for the whole of the village.

  Dammit.

  I grab my keys, toss down another hundred Euros for the interruption, and storm out the backdoor.

  I’m barely to my car when Damon’s heavy footsteps hit the gravel and dirt behind me. “Lyra.”

  “Why are you still following me?” I say, whirling around on him. He doesn’t know it, but I never go anywhere without my blades. Right now, each one is strapped to my thighs under the long skirt I’m wearing. If he pushes me too far, tonight, he’s gonna know what they feel like.

  “It’s my job.”

  “Then that makes me your boss, right?” I ask.

  “Not exact—”

  “Good, you’re fired. Now fuck off.” I grab the key fob and unlock the driver’s side door of my car. Damon’s hand clamps down on the frame before I can jerk it fully open.

  “Stop it, would you?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t need a babysitter. Not when I was orphaned at eight and not now.”

  Faster than I can keep up, Damon’s slams into my chest. He’s got me caged between his body and the car and I try to ignore the summersault that started in my stomach and works its way down my thighs.

  “You’re not thinking clearly, and you’re not paying attention. You want to go home? Fine. I’ll take you.”

  “I’ll take me.”

  He looks up to the sky and growls. Growls. “You are so god damn stubborn.”

  “Yes. Yes I am.” I nod, “And I don’t need you, don’t need anyone. I think I’ve proven that, so please. Back. The. Fuck. Off.” I shove at him hard and he tumbles back a few feet from me.

  “What is your problem?” He says.

  “You! Everyone! I needed a hot minute to myself. Hence me leaving. Then you come following me like some wannabee white knight.”

  “You want space?”

  “Yes!”

  “Fine. You can have it the minute we get back.”

  I spread my arms out wide and spin, “Look around, Damon. There aren’t any threats here. No one knows who we are or even where we are. I want one night. One fucking night to do as I’ve always done. Take care of myself.”

  “Well things have changed.”

  He storms toward me, slamming into me again and throwing me over his shoulder. I dig my nails into his back, kicking the whole time. He growls and smacks my thighs, just under my ass, but he doesn’t stop until we hit the alleyway.

  He’s faster than I expected.

  “Are you done?” He says.

  My bare shoulders are pressed into the jagged stone walls of the Pub, and I can hear voices and music from inside, radiating through the wall. Damon’s hips are thrust tightly into mine, leaving his crotch resting at my belly. Holy hell. He’s harder than fucking titanium.

  I meet his eyes, “Are you?” I say before loosening my fist.

  I strike him in the kidney, it’s a solid hit and he coughs a sec, then grabs my wrists and secures them over my head with his hands. I shouldn’t like it, but this angry aggression has me keyed up like a live wire.

  “Are you always this much trouble?”

  “Nope,” I say, “I’m doing this special for you.” I almost free my arm again, but his grip is vicious and now he’s packed tight against me like a sausage, pun intended. I can smell the Wolf in his blood—the wild beast that waits under his flesh—and I like it.

  It’s like home to me. The only place I knew some resemblance of peace and happiness.

  I don’t know why the hell I do it but suddenly I’m inching my head forward and pressing my tongue into his mouth. Gods. It’s hot and thick and my body is ready to be fucked. He doesn’t fight me, instead his grip on my hands loosens and he grabs the back of my hair, tugging me tight against his lips. He devours me, his kiss brutal and commanding.

  No one has kissed me like this. All-consuming and dominant and it’s exactly what I need. Fuck beer. Fuck blood. His tongue is my new life source.

  He bites down on my lip and I moan, shoving my hips into him.

  I should stop—and I will—in a minute.

  His finger grips my breast, his thumb caressing over my nipple as he continues his relentless pursuit of my mouth and all I want to do is lift my skirt and have him take me here in the open air.

  Then it hits me, like a dagger in my chest. All the pain and fucked up anguish that’s cock-blocked me from every having anything real with anyone. I need air. Need to get away from him. From everything.

  Too consumed by our make out session, he doesn’t notice me grabbing a loose stone from the wall. I let myself enjoy another minute before I take the rock and smack it into the side of his head, he stumbles back a sec, and says, “The fuck?” before he topples down to the floor.

  You’re a real shit, Lyra. My conscience taunts me.

  Yeah well, he’ll live. He’s a wolf and where I hit him will only keep him down for maybe a good ten minutes. Before I walk away, I adjust his body into a more comfortable sitting position against the wall. The normally rugged alpha looks calm and peaceful for once. I brush my hand along his jaw, the only tenderness I’ve ever given anyone and then I grab my keys, hop into the car and take off.

  Chapter 5

  I’m an asshole.

  I know that. But until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes, you can’t begin to fathom the fuckery that is my mind.

  I drive along the coastline, the clean sea breeze slams into my face through the open windows like a sharp slap. At this time of night, most of the road traffic has died down. The benefit of the rural countryside. I hit the gas harder and zoom down the road.

  You’re the second Dria. Aurora’s words are like ticking clock in my head. I should be pleased to have been chosen by fate, and yet I can’t help but feel somewhat robbed. Destroying Morana was my fight, long before a prophecy said so.

  And what comes next? Ruling alongside two other queens and another vampire monarchy that could go south? With great power . . . comes power hungry assholes. And if they weren’t already, would they become greedy? Can three vampires peacefully share one throne?

  My thoughts are so distracted, I hardly notice the headlights as they appear in my rear view. Most of this road is deserted and the only other companion is the coastal fog rolling in. The lights are gaining on me and I can only assume who it is. Shit. Damon. He must’ve woken faster than I anti
cipated.

  I’m almost impressed and ready to give credit where it’s due, when the single set of lights shift, turning into three. My eyes focus on the distance and just to be safe, I hit the gas harder. The lights behind me do the same.

  The small sports car isn’t a match for the beasts of metal coming at me full speed. I glance up at the road ahead when a force from behind slams into my trunk. My entire body jerks forward causing the seatbelt to squeeze into my chest and stomach.

  Okay, that’s definitely not Damon.

  Three black SUV’s trail my car, one beside and the other’s behind. One behind me races forward again and I brace myself for another hit. This time the force practically makes me lose control and I scramble to keep the car heading straight and off the cliff to my right. I have no idea what the hell is going on but I’m not about to waste time trying to figure it out.

  You want me? Come and get me, shitheads.

  I grip both my hands tightly on the wheel and shove my foot down on the gas again. I don’t care anymore about the fog, or what’s ahead. I’m much more intrigued about what lies behind me right now. For the average human, in dangerous situations your instincts tell you to either fight—or flight. As a vampire, and an ex assassin for Morana, my instincts desire the fight. Lavish in it. Find yourself in pain enough and you learn to enjoy it.

  As my pace increases, so does theirs and now we’re both topping 100mph. This time one of the SUV’s sped passes me at full speed, pulling directly in front of me. The other switches to my right and the third remains steadily behind. I try to make out who they are, but dark tinted windows make it impossible to get a good look, even with my impeccable sight.

  Out of nowhere, the car to my right swerve into my lane at full force as the two others closes in on me. I grip the wheel and brace myself as I swerve off the highway into a small embankment below. I pump the brakes as my car flies down the hill heading directly for a large tree resting at the bottom. The last thing I remember is holding on tightly and closing my eyes as the glass windshield shatters into my face