PrimEVAl Sacrifice

by J H Spade

  The bride reaches for me, thrilled that I made it to her wedding, she says, “Emmaley, you honor me with your presence. I can’t believe King Eros allowed you to make the trip after all. You did assure me you’d find a way of convincing him. Our poor Lord has no idea he will be no match for our soon to be queen.” She giggles, attributing the high security to what should regularly follow royalty to these functions. She has no clue there is extra security hidden to protect me against the gorgeous time bomb planted at the bar with a very short fuse.

  I envelope her in a tight hug and congratulate the first friend I made at Eros’s Summer Palace. “I’m so happy you survived your rebirth. You must tell me all the details soon,” I say with practiced ease, playing the part I’ve fallen into too well for anyone to notice, including Darius.

  She lightly kisses my cheek. “I will. I’m just so happy the child I’m carrying survived,” the radiant bride gleefully admits.

  Yes, the child. I can’t help as I wince in pain, feeling my heart drop a thousand stories. And worse than anything is the flash of understanding I find in his eyes before he recovers and his face once again settles into a look full of hate. Darius, the ever perceptive one, has just figured out my selfish reason for carrying out Eros’s plan and what his purpose will be here tonight.

  Everyone knows vampires are sterile.

  “Oh my . . . I wasn’t thinking, I’m so sorry Emmaley, for mentioning the child. How could I be so careless when you, too, will undergo the change and are giving away all chances of conception to be with our king.” The bride apologises for her slip, intentional or otherwise, it doesn’t really matter, so I brush it off.

  I shake my head. “It’s perfectly understandable you want to celebrate and are overjoyed by the wonderful news. Life is to be celebrated, not mourned.” My hands turn ice cold, gripping her shoulders as I hug her and pull away, yet I assure her all is well and not to worry any further. Already walking away, I tell her, “All the children in the kingdom will be my own.” But the truth is far too sinister, even for who I’ve become.

  Because before I kill Darius tonight, I will be sure I’m carrying his child and only then will I turn over his corpse to Eros.

  Darius. My heart that has been unfeeling for most of all our time apart . . . skips several beats at the mere thought and vision of him. My eyes skate over the buzzing crowd to land and devour every nuance in his features, calling out to me. Now, with the little space separating us, it is so much worse. He doesn’t seem like a simple plan. A blueprint of the event scattered on a war table designed to discuss objectively the best strategy to tear down an adversary, in the safety of a council room where I’ve envisioned him as only a target.

  Instead, this moment is a complete absence of time, everything else turning to static. Even with the venom injected in my blood by Eros, dictating my every move, it’s difficult not to want more with Darius than this night. Only the venom itself will ensure I end up destroying my ex, and yet at this very moment as our eyes meet, it is no match for the passion that burns alive in Darius’s striking eyes. His utter composure, showing no weakness has shaken me, because the last time I saw him, his stare was stricken with a universe of pain while they pleaded with me. Now, I can only see his heated gaze turn hungry with a possessive magnetism that seeks to trap me with every sure step that draws me closer to him. The gentle sway of my hips as I ease through the room is made to entice him, the lift of my lips draws him in when I seductively smile, and it is then as I watch him tense in response that I have my answer, knowing all is precisely as it should be. Suddenly, I am fortified, walking a little bit straighter than before. I get a rise out of watching him yearn for me even when I’m about to take his life, because unfortunately for him . . . I’m not the same girl he used to know. And it fucking hurts, yet I welcome the pain, already mourning him like he’s nothing more than a memory in the past.

  But, the throbbing pain in my chest is worse than I expected—more painful than all I’ve suffered before. Now, when I take my final steps and come to a stop a few feet away, I can’t continue to ignore that fire always burning between us.

  Darius has always been a mystery to me.

  The greatest of all.

  Tonight is no different because he keeps a blank mask over his hardened features, licking his lips as if he’s scenting and already tasting me after capturing me. I know I have him exactly where I want him. Yet he’s intimidating everyone around us, except me. Not tonight.

  I’m too focused on what I must accomplish to care for anything else.

  He lets me come closer, fully aware of what I plan if his cocky snicker is any indication. But, gods, how his smile blinds, making his eyes shine straight through my heart. Momentarily blinded by my own desire, it is so much more than I bargained for. I stand frozen because I can’t help but drift away to better times, when all we wanted to be was wrapped up in each other.

  I take a breath to help my stuttering heart from imploding in the cage I’ve enclosed it in.

  He stands so absolutely sure of everything, his imposing six-foot five frame the very definition of strength and purpose while completely unaware of how much I fight, all I do is fight. Moving with just enough swagger to balance the concise movements of the warrior in him, he breathes life into how I imagine those classic artworks would move when he takes the time to smooth out the wrinkles in his black satin jacket, his fingers flexing to button his lustrous suit. His fluid movements defy logic because he’s quicker at killing than anyone I’ve ever seen.

  The fiery look I find in his pale–like lightning–blue eyes, in response to my open appraisal, says all that I need to know as they linger on my body to slowly climb up and down and only then, do they settle with need on my lips. He bites his plump bottom lip, a sexy smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, eager for the mayhem I’ve devised. I forget to take a breath overtaken by the sexual display. He’s a cocky son of a bitch—always has been, beginning with that first night he stole a dance from me.

  There is no regard given to all the guns he has pointed at him, or the four guards that have stepped aside to let me through, and all the others positioned on standby in the room.

  “They won’t help you here tonight.” His warning is smooth, something I already expect. He likes to warn me not to push before I get him to react with violence.

  Violence is exactly what I came here for, so I say, “I guess we will have to find out, won’t we?” I retort with enough force in my voice to push at all of his buttons, making things harder for the both of us with the little space we share, because it’s who I am with him. There’s never been much give and take between the two of us. We both take and then forgive for what can’t be helped later. Tonight is no different, and Eros’s venom will leave me no choice but to end it all.

  End him. His beautiful soul is to be snuffed out of existence along with the heat always erupting for me when I’m near.

  He snaps me back to the present when he grits out. “You are quite the gem, aren’t you? You look . . . lovely tonight . . . lovelier than all my memories of you, Princess. Am I right to assume your title hasn’t changed?”

  I open my mouth and laugh away the bitterness I feel towards him. I still don’t know why I blame him. It could be for abducting me the night Eros was to propose and showing me a love so different to the toxic one I had with Eros. In the end, it’s only brought me pain because Eros will never let me go. A wider coy smile hides my pain, brightening my features as my heart squeezes for all the possibilities that I will never let happen. Tipping my head back, I hide the tears I can’t let fall. Old feelings resurfacing, both the love and devotion I once felt for him begin to remind me of what used to be so easy and clear between us. But my feelings have no room to grow in the darkness that is my life now, so I keep them securely locked away, behind the façade of a false smile I don’t feel. I place my hands over my lips, making sure he sees the nine karat black diamond of my engagement ring that is a perfect match to my cold hea
rt but more importantly marks me as his enemy’s, never to be his again.

  Such a seemingly innocent question he asks, but it is a loaded one. “You, Darius, are as decadent as I vaguely remember you to be . . . that is, only on the days in which I beg my beloved to make our union official by marrying me, and he then mentions your tedious name to remind me of our arrangement. You see, he only wishes to seal the deal after I’ve killed you!”

  “Is that so? How do you plan on killing me when I plan to have you wild, recklessly begging for me by the end of the night? Wasn’t that how the evening turned out on the night we met?”

  “No . . . no, if I remember correctly the night we met, I was already running from him, but that is beside the point.” I huff, appearing exasperated when in truth I’m letting go of some nerves before I continue, “The point is, men . . . how you play to win with no care for who gets hurt in the process. Trapping us with manipulation. Figures you know, as you did the same to me once upon a time. Do you know he keeps pushing the date of my coronation? So much easier to live in sin than make an honest woman out of me. It’s quite exhausting, getting caught in between the two of you and your tactics, so easily justifiable to you as long as you get what you’re after.”

  I walk the few steps, completely at ease with closing the distance between us when he crosses his forearms over his chest. I teasingly lay my hand over one solid arm, drawing my body flush against him and to the alluring heat he’s throwing off. Darius’s skin is scorching through the exquisite material of the silky threads that make up his tux, created by the best weavers money can buy. I’m glad for the form-fitting gown I finally decided on. It has a navel deep V plunging neckline, offering me a low scalloped back, which afford the breathing room he smothers out of me with his demanding presence—all of his irresistible attributes, working against me and created to ensnare. I’m thankful, he is angry enough at the moment that his eyes haven’t shone brighter than the universe home to this planet of Krau. Should I be hit with his body’s heat and the blaze from his electric eyes, there would be no room for discussions.

  So, I embrace him, whispering softly against his ear, “How shall we do this? I had hoped for some privacy while we got reacquainted. Will you behave?” and step back, playing the role of reuniting with a long lost lover.

  We have been lost to one another, and there is no greater truth than that one tonight.

  His gaze travels to my neck, before making its slow glide down over my breasts and lingering there. Telling me with just one look, he’s barely containing himself from stripping me right here, in front of the whole wedding and taking me on top of the bar for all to witness.

  There is no doubt in my mind he’d do it, if he thought the threat could be handled long enough.

  I smile because Darius is explosive in all that he does, and my blood burns for it in response.

  The sparsely placed glistening black appliqués over dark sheer material of my gown make it hard to move without giving a peep show. His hand grips at the soft waves of my light-blonde hair, eyes stay rooted on the swells of my breasts, his claws lengthening—it’s his way with me, always caging me against him. I proceed to ignore my guards as they jump to pull me away, “Step back! Darius doesn’t plan on doing anything, yet. He needs answers before he does something too hasty. First, he wishes to know how strong my bond is to Eros. So, we have time for small talk, don’t we, Darius?”

  He dips his head in a courtly manner, bringing his fiery breaths over my chest. My lashes flutter when I briefly close my eyes, enjoying how his heat seems to brand me. His masculine possessive power has me wishing to submit long enough to enjoy his body, right as he retracts his claws. My guards ease back at my further insistence, my hand signaling them even as the slit that sits high on my hip bone eases wider.

  Darius does the most human thing possible and stares at the black silk thong, coming into view underneath my long slinky gown while showing the tips of his fangs to the guards and easing his white-knuckled fists. Getting ready to spring for me, I’m sure.

  He cracks his neck from side to side relieving the tension, I sense. Maybe he, too, has to try hard to convince himself not to wring my neck and kill me.

  Recovering enough to appear vaguely interested, he says, “Our night is still young, Eva. Why don’t you share a dance with me? You do remember how I love to sweep you onto the dance floor.”

  I shake my head because that last part comes out as a statement. As per usual, Darius is telling me what to do, all while I know fully well he only uses my middle name when he’s overcome with need or vulnerable somehow, “Don’t call me by that name. She’s been dead for a long time.” Tapping my fingers against my lips, I continue to antagonize him. “And frankly, it’s hard to recall, but between us . . .,” I say it, leaning in. He nods, wishing I would continue, his hand falling to the small of my back. He’s leading me towards one of the private booths. I’m guessing he’s getting a feel for the room and counting threats, while I’m a fool unable to keep my mouth shut.

  Don’t let him get in your head. You’re in control tonight, I remind myself.

  I can’t help but wonder why I’m so nervous. My plan seemed simple, but when he tugs me closer, his hand caresses possessively down my naked lower back, so I can’t help but find . . . he’s shifting my world off of its axis, going along with my attempt at making him my confidant. Everything’s changed, including me.

  Unaware of my struggle, he brings me closer, offering me the protection of his body. I admit it’s quite ironic in a dead humor kind of way. The gods must not be done using me for their entertainment. Once we’ve reached a safe distance, in hushed tones, I supply, “There’s so little to recall when you always held back from making love to me. Although, now that Eros has explained . . . I should be thanking you. You aren’t as much of a mystery to me anymore, I’m afraid. Eros told me so many things you never cared to. Such as your curse. How your people—the men of your race can’t take women of their own unless they belong to someone else. Especially virgins, since you can never be her first, risking to kill her while in the throes of passion as you shift, unable to control yourself. I didn’t understand at first, but then he got creative using delicious methods you couldn’t even dream about, to teach me of your curse. I lived to tell the tale unlike those poor maidens you monsters took.” I pause for effect, looking into his darkened sapphire eyes and see too much rage simmering in their depths. It should have stopped me from saying what I was about to say, but instead, I find it feeding the monster in my mind, so I bring my lips over his ear, “You see there really isn’t an honest inch left in me. He’s a black stallion in bed, hung like one, too. Wait . . . I don’t think we’ve ever actually fucked in a bed.”

  When Darius forcefully grabs me outside the hardwood panel of the VIP booth, lifting my back to his chest while placing his hand painfully over my lips to shut me up, and takes me underneath the curtain to place me face down, bending over the table, I tell myself this is exactly what I wanted.

  In fact, the moment seems almost fated. My eyes are closed, concentrating on absorbing him. I feel him, through his clothes. So hot; he presses over my back, using the weight of his body—all solid muscle of him is too effective in how easily he subdues me. Punishingly gripping my throat, I can’t help but let him. His left hand squeezes a trail of hot lust over my already overought body while his free hand, slips painstakingly slow as it seeks my needy, tight, little knob of nerves, making me moan. His tongue flicks, leaving a wet trail of fire over my earlobe, and I can’t help but to thrash my hips back against his rock-hard cock. I tell him with my body, what I won’t allow myself to say: how eager I am to finally have him. Whispering sweet nothings into my ear, like he can read all my thoughts, he pinches obedience into me and rubs circles, quickening my heart to have him feel how I throb for him, “What do you want? Hmm . . . do you want me to punish your pussy with my cock? Do you wish for me to make it hurt? Tell me what you wished to gain with your words. What do yo
u want, Eva?” He ends on a savage moan when my ass rubs, bouncing on his hardness.

  With rage and too much need choking the breath out of me, more than his hand ever could, I cry, “YES,” telling us both what I need to go on, “I want you hard and fast on this table before I do what I must.” And I know there are no lies in that statement. I tell myself it is because I need to hate him more than I already do. More than I hate myself.

  Darius’s muscular thighs and large hands trap me. His fury is both palpable and crushing me when I sense the detail assigned for my protection, rush towards us.

  He yanks me back by my throat—no real harm done when he cups my soft neck brushing his fingers over my pulse and whispers in my ear, “Tell them to stay back, or so help me. I swear on all the gods, I’m burning this place down while I fuck you.” He growls the warning, and by his forceful tone, I have no doubt he will follow through.

  I quickly stop them with a command, “I’m alright, give us some privacy. Take the wedding into the next room, now!” I say it loud and as clearly as I possibly can, so he can hear my instructions. All while his hands take my dress and rip it loudly in the enclosed space. His fingers reach under the shredded train of my gown, scoring my thighs as he roughly lifts me. I wince when my knees impact against the table, landing hard on the hardwood surface. Facing away from him, he spreads my legs wide, and brings my ass to the edge of the table because he’s so tall. His arm is a solid beam of muscle that pushes my chest and cheek flat to the smooth table, holding me down while I struggle for air. Tugging the train of my dress over my back, I can feel Darius begin to harshly jerk open his zipper, ripping the button on his trousers with one hand in his haste.

  My hand reaches for him of its own volition. He lets loose a growl, thinking I want to stop his progress instead of help him.