Selected for the Vampire King

by T. S. Ryder

  She wished she could faint as the man stopped right in front of her and took her chin in his massive hand.

  "So you have her. I knew I could trust you with this mission. How did you do it?"

  The deer smirked. "I've been watching the estate for months. Every day she went to a human hospital in the human town. It was easy enough to convince the people that worked there they'd all be killed if they didn't hand her over to me."

  Cleo glowered. "You threatened innocent civilians who have nothing to do with vampires."

  "Humans, vampires." The deer shrugged. "All the same to me."

  She pushed the huge man's hand away from her face as he continued to hold her chin. "What are you going to do with me?"

  The man stepped back, studying her. "Do you love your husband?"

  Cleo remained silent.

  "You had better hope that he loves you. Because now that I have you, either he will turn himself over for your sake, or you die. I wonder what he'll choose."

  Cleo closed her eyes, feeling light-headed as the woman started dragging her to a tent. Would Darius come for her? Did she even want him to? If he did, he would be killed. If he didn't, she would be killed.

  Darius, don't come, she pleaded silently. Stay safe.

  Chapter Seven – Darius

  Darius tossed aside the empty blood bag and reached for another one. He and his men had been under shifter attack for nearly a full week, and it was the first time that he had been able to take a break from the fighting. His skin was incredibly tender, having suffered under the claws and teeth of dozens of shifters, but he was healing.

  The shifters had withdrawn abruptly, which worried him, but it allowed his troops to reinforce their positions. As soon as the helicopters bringing more blood arrived, Darius would have his troops restock and then go after the shifters. Drive them out.

  This was bigger than the Rebeluna now. He had learned that the shifters were taking orders from someone named the Thunder, but where this mysterious leader was, he had no idea. At least not yet.

  The door to his tent opened and Gordon strode in. Darius tossed him a spare blood bag. His friend looked like the stereotypical Hollywood vampire. Pale, gaunt – like a walking corpse. Gordon set the bag aside.

  "General."

  "Captain." He had been promoted on the battlefield, but it was still odd to hear his new rank. "What’s the news?"

  "One of the men found this nailed to the trees at the edge of the camp."

  He held out a white, sealed envelope that had Darius' name scrawled on the front.

  The general frowned as he took it. There was such a heavy shifter scent coming from the blood soaking his clothing that he couldn’t catch any scent on the envelope itself. He felt along it and held it up to the light. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so he opened it.

  Inside was a letter written in a neat hand. Darius's heart stopped as he read it, then read it again to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. When he was done, he wadded up the whole thing and shoved it into his pocket before slumping over. Gordon gripped his shoulder, peering into his eyes.

  "Darius! Darius, what is it? Do you have silver poisoning?"

  "No." Darius took a deep breath. "The shifters have Cleo. If I don't turn myself over to them, they'll kill her."

  Silence answered him. Darius pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew exactly what would happen if he turned himself over to the shifters. The worst of it was that he had no idea if they had already killed her or if they even had her at all.

  He grabbed his phone and dialed his wife. "Voicemail."

  "Maybe she's talking to someone else or her phone is off," Gordon said.

  Darius turned to his friend. "No. She never turns it off, and she'd put anybody else on hold for me."

  "Call the estate before you leap to conclusions."

  Gritting his teeth, trying to keep his own panic at bay, Darius nodded. It was a smart idea, after all. He called his estate only to find that nobody had seen Cleo for almost twenty-four hours. That was all he needed to know. He strode to his wardrobe, pulling out his dress uniform. He wasn't going to face the shifters soaked in their blood.

  Gordon looked alarmed. "Darius, what are you doing?"

  "I'm going to shower and change and then turn myself over to them. It's Cleo's only chance."

  "Hey, no. You have to have proof of life."

  "I don't have to do anything but get my wife back."

  Gordon grabbed his arm. "You won't be getting her back, you'll be getting yourself killed!"

  "I know!" Darius yanked his arm away from his friend. "I know that if I go, I'll be killed. I know that if for some reason the shifters don't kill me, by giving into their demands like this… by not telling anybody I have coordinates that we can find them… that I will be wiping out every bit of progress that I've made in my career, and will most likely be branded a traitor for it. Maybe even killed by the king. I don't care. All I care about is Cleo. I love her. I won't lose her."

  "Darius—"

  "If you try to stop me, I will kill you. I swear it, Gordon. Go ahead and tell the other generals, but don't you dare try to stop me."

  Gordon stepped back. His shoulders slumped. "I am going to tell the other generals."

  Darius nodded. He stuffed his dress uniform into a backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Gordon was already on his phone as he ran from the tent towards the motorcycles. Nobody was going to stop him from saving his wife.

  Nobody.

  ***

  The letter said that if any vampires beside him showed up at the meeting spot then Cleo was dead, so Darius made sure to burn the letter and the coordinates he had been given when he stopped at a motel to shower and change. He left his phone there, too, knowing that every time it rang it was a general or prince ordering him back.

  It didn't matter. He didn't care about rank anymore. Without Cleo, it wasn't worth it.

  Two shifters waited for him at the coordinates atop a bridge over a raging river. After they searched him, they tossed his bike over the railing and prodded him into a black van. He was blindfolded after that, and some time later they led him through the forest on foot.

  "Stinking vampire," one of this captors grumbled. "Don't know what all this ceremony is about. If it were up to me, he'd have his head in a box being mailed to their precious king already."

  "It's not up to you," the other one said, sounding annoyed. "The Thunder must have a reason for wanting the vampire alive."

  The Thunder? The Alpha who was commanding the attack on the vampires. Well, that was interesting information, but useless now. He couldn’t tell anybody about it. Not that it mattered anymore.

  Darius burned to ask if Cleo was alive or hurt, but he made himself stay silent. Even if he was in their hands and power, that didn't mean he couldn’t retain his pride. Still, his heart pounded wildly and his mouth was dry. What would he do if they had harmed Cleo?

  Or more correctly, how many of them would he be able to kill before they killed him?

  He began smelling an increase in the musky shifter scent as they made their way through the forest. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he had to fight to keep himself from snarling and baring his fangs. Threatening his captors while his hands were tied and he was blindfolded would only end him before he knew if Cleo was safe or not.

  Jeering taunts began to be flung from every direction, but he still stayed calm and unresponsive. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, but the shifter smell was too heavy. He couldn't smell Cleo. If he was basing his knowledge on what he could sense in the moment, he wouldn’t have even suspected she was there.

  Eventually, his two captors jerked him to a stop. The blindfold was removed, leaving him blinking in the dim twilight. He was in the middle of a clearing, the trees and brush thick around them. The darkness cast by the hidden sun was deep. So deep that Darius couldn't tell where the flickering dance of shadow and light ended and where shifters moving about various tents began.


  He was very aware of the ring that had formed behind him, though. He could hear shuffling feet and muttered curses as the shifters drew closer. But he was only looking for Cleo, for some sign she was there and unharmed. His heart was beating so fast and hard that he wondered if the shifters weren't able to hear it.

  "Where is Cleo?" he forced his voice to stay calm. "I don't see her. Are you liars as well as thieves and murderers?"

  "Thieves!" The same guard that had been indignant that he wasn't allowed to kill Darius threw a punch at his face, which he easily dodged. "You vampires are the ones that stole our lands from us. You have murdered our forefathers, our brothers and sisters. You have no right to open your mouth—"

  "Enough." A deep, thunderous voice silenced the shifter.

  Darius' head swiveled. A huge man – a bear, judging from his build – strode through the camp. He had Cleo tucked under one arm. Darius's heart jumped. She looked unharmed, though her eyes were wide. Her belly was also twice the size it had been the last time he had seen her.

  "I'm here," the vampire said. "Let my wife go."

  "You're here," the Alpha replied, a gleam in his eyes. "She's here. I'm here. You've been seeing my handiwork lately, haven't you?"

  "The Thunder," Darius realized.

  "Yes. And once I've killed you, your armies will fall before me."

  Darius glanced at Cleo and quickly looked away, the desire to kill rising in him at the sight of her frightened eyes. "Why the elaborate plot just to kill me?"

  "You killed my mate."

  Darius didn't reply. He had killed many shifters. Always in battle, always when they were trying to kill him. But he knew well enough that people didn't care why you killed someone they loved. They just cared that you killed them.

  The Alpha walked forward, dragging Cleo along with him. "I have planned my revenge down to the last detail, vampire, and, at last, I will have it."

  "No," Darius blurted, his gaze returning to Cleo. Her normally bronzed skin looked sickly. The Alpha was going to kill her as his punishment – he couldn't let that happen!

  "I understand that you vampires have a custom where a man may challenge another for his mate. If the challenger kills the husband, he takes the wife and she belongs to him." The Thunder grinned. "I wanted you to know this before I killed you. Your wife will be my new mate. She will give me beautiful children, and your brat that grows inside her will be their slave."

  "You have to fight me to win her," Darius snarled. He wasn't going to let this beast claim his Cleo! He'd slaughter the whole camp of shifters first. "She is mine and if you think you will claim her, you have to kill me in battle."

  "Isn't that what I just said?" The Alpha shoved Cleo into the arms of a shifter waiting nearby. "Untie him so I may tear him apart!"

  Cleo fought against the shifter holding her. "No! Darius doesn't stand a chance against you!"

  The Alpha laughed while his men cut Darius' bonds. "That's the idea."

  Cleo's eyes filled with tears. "Please. I know he can't stand against you. I know he's going to die."

  Darius stared at her. Did she really have so little faith in him?

  "Let me have one last night with him, with my husband. Please."

  The Alpha considered her for a minute. He glanced at Darius, who stood tall. It didn't matter if Cleo thought him weak, he would still fight for her. Better to have everything decided immediately. But Cleo broke free from the shifters holding her and ran to the Thunder, wrapping her arms around his chest like a seductress. It filled Darius with fire. He snarled, jumping forward, but Cleo held out a hand to him. He stopped. What was she doing?

  "A condemned man deserves one last pleasure, doesn't he?"

  The Alpha smirked. "Perhaps he does. But, if I allow you this, you'll give me that same pleasure before your husband's body is cold in the ground, understood?"

  "Cleo, no!" Darius said, but she ignored him.

  "Understood."

  "Very well. Give them a tent and allow the condemned one last night with his wife." The Alpha's gaze drifted back to Darius and his smirk widened. "Let him consider what tomorrow will bring."

  Chapter Eight – Cleo

  As soon as they were alone, Cleo turned to Darius. She pulled her hair out of the way and bent her neck, exposing her throat to him. "Drink from me."

  Darius frowned, pushing her hand away as she reached for him. "You offered yourself to him."

  "I didn't."

  "Then please explain what you are doing."

  "I want you to drink from me!

  "Do you really think that Alpha is going to kill me? I've killed bears before, you know it."

  Her heart was pounding, her head throbbing as she fought against the burning in her eyes. She knew that he could defeat the bear. But it wasn't a certain thing, and if she lost him… Her throat tightened again, and she fought to keep herself calm.

  "I've heard them talking. They're the leaders of the Rebeluna. Even if you defeat the bear, they still won't let you go. They'll kill you."

  Darius opened his mouth. Cleo continued quickly.

  "But if you drink from me, then you can get out of here. You can go back to your men and launch a full-scale assault on these beasts and just wipe them out. Please. Please, then you can say that you've defeated the Rebeluna and you can have everything you ever wanted."

  Darius' gaze softened. He touched her face, then pulled her into his arms. Cleo pushed against him, angry at herself and the stupid tears that were beginning to trickle down her face. Crying was not going to help anybody. Unless it made Darius leave because he hated her.

  But she could already tell he wasn't going to do that.

  "If I left, they'd kill you."

  "We all know that getting into positions of power requires sacrifices."

  "If I thought more about potentially becoming king than keeping you alive, I never would have come here in the first place, Cleo."

  "I didn't want you to. I don't want you to die for me. I want you to live."

  "Cleo…"

  "You heard the Thunder. What he'll do to me if he beats you." Cleo shivered. This time when Darius wrapped his arms around her, she didn't push him off. She needed his strength at the moment. Strange… all her life she had made sure she had never needed anybody. She had always been strong, always in charge of her own destiny. But, now, when it really mattered… "I'm so afraid, Darius. I'd rather die than lose you."

  "How do you think I feel? Why else would I be here if your life was not more important than mine?"

  "Don't talk like that."

  Darius brushed his lips against hers. "Cleo, I will defeat the Alpha. I'm fighting for more than he is. I'm fighting for the woman I love and the child she carries."

  "You love me?"

  "Yes."

  "I love you, too. I don't know when I fell in love with you, but I did." Cleo buried her face into his shoulder. "I love you."

  "Why couldn't we have had the bravery to admit our feelings before this?" His hand stroked the swell of her belly. "I wish I had been there for you every step of the way. Did you have much morning sickness?"

  "No. None at all, in fact."

  Cleo gazed at her husband. She saw the tender expression on his face, the softness of his eyes, and her heart filled to the point of bursting. She didn't care that they were surrounded by their enemies and that tomorrow Darius would be in a fight for both their lives. If this was going to be their last night together – and it might be – she wasn't going to let it pass in tears and regrets.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was light at first, but as Darius's arms snaked around her waist, the kiss deepened. A fire and an ache started in her core. Her arms tightened. Darius's did as well. Normally, at this point they would be frenzied, tearing at the clothes that kept them from tasting one another. It would be all animal lust, or perhaps forcing themselves to act like animals.

  Perhaps it had always been so fevered and impatient becau
se they knew if they slowed down they would be making love, and that way was too dangerous for people who couldn't admit they loved each other.

  Darius slowly unbuttoned her blouse, and Cleo stayed still, letting him. His touch was tender as he slid it off her, folding it before he placed it on the floor. His hands ran down her arms, then caressed her belly before moving up to her breasts.

  "They're bigger."

  Cleo had to repress a giggle. "That's what happens when you get pregnant."

  Darius nodded. He dropped to his knees and pressed a kiss most tender to her belly. Cleo's eyes filled with tears and she let her head fall back. She wasn't going to cry. Not tonight of all nights. Her husband was just as gentle as he removed her pants as he had been with her shirt. Her socks and underclothes soon followed, all folded neatly on the floor.

  "I've never taken the time to really look at you," he said, standing, then kissed her temple where a tear had escaped. "Don't cry. I won't let the Thunder have his way. Tomorrow he dies."

  "Then don't you need to sleep and save your strength?"

  Darius shook his head. "For vampires, sex is almost like blood. It will only strengthen me further. Especially when it's with someone I love."

  He kissed her again, deeply, passionately. The fire that was already inside built higher, the ache growing deeper. She wanted so much more and she wanted it now – but at the same time, she wanted this to last. This was their first time making love, and she wanted to savor it.

  "My turn," she whispered, running her fingers down the buttons of his uniform.

  "Of course."

  Her husband stilled, letting her undress him with as much patience and care as he had undressed her. Cleo gazed at his body. She had always liked looking at him, but now she stared hungrily, wanting to remember every contour, every muscle – the shape, the feel of his smooth, cool skin. He was so perfect. And he was hers.

  "You belong to me," he whispered.

  "Yes. I do. Forever."

  He caught her mouth again, his kisses growing more fevered. Cleo clung to him, her belly pressed against his. One of his hands caressed it while the other parted her thighs. His touch was so gentle it was almost painful. He swallowed her cries of pleasure as he continued to apply pressure in small circles.