Blood Prince: A Standalone Fantasy Romance

by Celia Aaron

  Shildreth reached out and grasped my hands. Thank the gods my magics were calm; otherwise, there would have been a problem.

  “Is she to be your queen, then?” Shildreth asked.

  I coughed and sputtered. Queen?

  Paris put a steady hand on my knee. “We haven’t gotten quite that far yet.”

  “My apologies, my lady.” Shildreth retracted her hands and bowed her head in apology, the tiara glittering even in the low candlelight.

  I tried to fight down the blush that crept into my cheeks. “Oh, don’t apologize. And don’t mind me. I’m just a warrior out for blood. It so happens we have yet another enemy in common—Menelaus.”

  Another plop of Captain Lewin’s spit.

  Shildreth searched my face. “Why do you have cause to seek our ancient enemy?”

  I shrugged. “It’s personal.” I needed to learn more about these vampires before giving away my secrets.

  Shildreth accepted the answer, though I could tell she wanted to know more.

  “Menelaus has waged war against the vampires for millennia,” Shildreth said. “He is even more dangerous than the queen. However, we have long suspected Desmerada and Menelaus to be secret allies. It could be that taking down one may lead to the demise of the other. But we must work together if we have any hope of destroying either of them.”

  The vampire regent rose, and Captain Lewin helped her up. I could see no infirmity, yet it was obvious Shildreth was in pain. She covered it well, but there was more to the regent than beauty and simple grace.

  Paris rose along with her, as did I.

  “You both must be weary from your travels. No doubt you had to fight your way to our enclave. The Darkwood is treacherous for those who do not know its ways, and even for those who do. We have a communal dining hall. Dinner will be served within the quarter hour. Your people will be anxious to see you, my lord.”

  Paris nodded, seemingly at a loss for words.

  “Once again, welcome, both of you.” Shildreth’s eyes glittered, tears brimming again, before Captain Lewin escorted her back to the antechamber.

  That had gone as well as could be expected. Instead of just the two of us, we now had the backing of a strong, resilient vampire clan. I could work with this. I rose and paced, thinking of our next moves.

  Paris’s gaze was distant, unfocused. He shook his head slightly, as if some thought came to the fore and he immediately pushed it away. Some war raged within him. And I could guess its cause. The vampires who lived here were barely surviving, fighting the very forest just to keep themselves and their families safe. Not to mention the threat from the Bloodkeep. Instead of fighting alongside them, he had been on earth or Olympus, cavorting with Underworlders and mortals alike. That had to twist inside him like a knife.

  I knelt in front of him. “You didn’t know they were here.”

  “I should have searched for them.” He bent over and rested his head in his hands.

  “If you had even come near here, Desmerada would have killed you.”

  “I should have come before. Should have helped. Instead, I was out partying. Women, drugs, blood, sport. Elena, I’ve done things. Things I can’t even tell you about because the shame of them would make you hate me even more than I hate myself. I’m not good enough for them or you. I’m the last withered branch on what had been a strong tree.” He rubbed his palms against his forehead, as if trying to slough away his past.

  I grasped his hands and pulled them away from his face, locking him in my gaze. “You are here now. We both are. Now is the time when we can strike our enemies down and take what is rightfully ours. Sitting here and wallowing in self-pity gets us nowhere except killed. We have to be strong. We have to lead.”

  The swirling symbol was carved into the walls all around them. It was no longer the symbol of Troy or of Priam, but of Paris. “These are your people. You owe it to them—to yourself—to lead them from this darkness and into the very walls of the Bloodkeep. And with me at your side, you will.”

  Paris’s back straightened as I spoke, as if my words were injecting iron into his spine.

  “Together?” he asked.

  “You have my word.” He stood and brought me up with him. He kissed me, not gently, but with a fierceness that sent heat blazing through me. It was a brand, one that kindled my very soul, lighting me with that same swirl of life.

  He slanted over me, our kiss deep and intoxicating. He ran a hand through my hair before fisting it and tugging. Relinquishing my lips, he kissed along my jawline until he reached my neck. His tongue played against my skin before he settled his mouth at my jugular, licking and sucking. I sighed and clutched his sides, desperate for him as he was for me. He slid his hands down my back and lifted me so that I could wrap my legs around him. He took my mouth again with renewed fervor, his tongue lapping at mine.

  It was too easy, this attraction between us. I couldn’t deny the pull, hadn’t been able to from the moment he burst into Menelaus’s house to rescue me. But I didn’t care anymore—not when he held me close.

  I clung to him, relishing the taste of his mouth. When I felt his fang, I ran my tongue along it, drawing blood. He groaned as the metallic taste filled our mouths. He lapped at my self-inflicted wound as his hands dug into my backside, rubbing my core against his hard length. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. I entwined my hands in his hair and pulled his head back. Licking up his neck, I relished the salty taste, and bit him lightly.

  “Gods, Elena.”

  Someone cleared their throat. I released my hold on Paris and regained my feet. A vampire stood at the door, his gaze fastened to the floor. He seemed young, like a teenager, and was dressed in a coarse tunic and trousers. I should have felt embarrassed, but I didn’t. Paris’s eyes remained fixed on me as I moved past him and approached the boy.

  “Yes?” I asked, my voice breathy.

  “I’m, uh, I’m supposed to, um, show you to dinner?” He pushed the hair from his eyes to get a better look at me.

  “Askenith.” The boy bowed low to Paris, almost touching the floor.

  “Shakorah.”

  “It’s this way, my lord.”

  The boy skirted the square and led us to a long, squat building. Many voices rose and fell, carrying out into the night. The doors were open. Inside, there were at least two dozen long tables full of vampires, the adults drinking from goblets and the children eating food.

  “The children don’t drink blood?” I had no idea that vampires were so like other races.

  “Natural-born vampire children eat like humans,” Paris said.

  When the vampires realized Paris and I hovered at the door, the room quieted. Table by table, silence fell until only the crackling of the fire and the wind in the trees remained. Shildreth stood from a table in the center and beckoned us toward her. When Paris stepped over the threshold, every vampire in the room stood and bowed.

  We hastened to the table at the center so the people could resume their meals. When Paris sat, the rest of the room followed. But there was still no conversation, and all eyes rested on him.

  “Askenith, the people are overjoyed at your presence.” Faren handed Paris a goblet, and Shildreth passed me a plate of food from the children’s table. There were a variety of root vegetables and a strange meat I was too polite to inquire about further.

  Their food supply seemed meager at best, especially given the inhospitable nature of the Darkwood. These vampires were hardened survivors.

  The little girl from the courtyard was there. Her mother was cutting the child’s meat and vegetables into manageable bites. When she was done, she ran her hand along the girl’s braids and kissed her on top of her head. The way the vampires doted on their children heartened me and reminded me of the warmth and love of my sisters.

  Conversations around the room sprouted up again, and children laughed and played with each other.

  Faren took a big swig from his goblet. “Now, how are we going to take the keep?”


  Silence fell among the adults, though the children still kept at their games, oblivious to the momentous decisions being made around them.

  Paris glanced at me. “Elena is my chief strategist. She is a warrior for the gods, a master tactician.”

  The dark-haired little girl from earlier stopped eating and stared at me, her eyes wide. Perhaps my true nature was even more fantastical than being a fairy as the girl first thought?

  Faren put his goblet down. “The gods don’t rule here, my lord—you do.”

  “Faren, give him a moment. He just got here. Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow, we plan.” Shildreth stood and raised her cup. She spoke in the vampire language. I didn’t understand a word, but I got the gist from the vampires’ reactions. The soldiers placed hands over their hearts, and the parents hugged their children. Hope was in every one of Shildreth’s words, permeating the air. Her voice rose, reaching the conclusion of her rousing toast before she dropped her head and said, “Askenith.”

  The entire room shook with the one repeated word.

  Paris rose and bowed low to the room, a gracious move from their long-lost prince. “Shakorah,” he said as a deafening shout went up from the crowd.

  I stuffed my pack under my bed. It was in Shildreth’s home, which was the largest building in the settlement, though it only had three rooms. I would be comfortable enough here for the night. The cot looked inviting, adorned with a handmade quilt. I placed the little doll the girl had given me on the pillow before sliding the Olympian blade onto the floor next to the bed.

  Paris had been invited into Captain Lewin’s home next door. His gaze had lingered on me until the captain clapped a hand on his back and showed Paris inside. I laughed at the propriety of it all. Artemis would have been pleased. Funny how my thoughts really hadn’t strayed to my mistress since I began this journey. I should have been worried. I should have been coming up with a plan to fix whatever damage Paris had done to my relationship with the Moon Goddess. But instead of worrying about Artemis, Paris occupied my thoughts. His passionate gaze or his sinful mouth. What did he think of me now that he’d gotten to know me as Elena, not the Helen of his past?

  I shrugged off my thoughts and prepared to bunk down for the night. The front door opened with a creak, and I recognized the sound of Shildreth’s shuffling gait. She came to the bedroom and rested her cane against the door frame. Her eyes still shone that friendly hazel.

  “I hope it is to your liking, my lady.”

  “Oh, it’s very nice. Thank you so much for allowing me into your home.”

  “You are always welcome wherever I am.” She walked over to the other bed in the room and sagged down onto the edge. The effort from simply walking seemed to drain the vampire of any energy.

  “Is there some way I could help? Something I could do?” I asked as lightly as I could.

  Shildreth shook her head and removed her tiara to place it on the nightstand.

  Despite my offer, I wasn’t sure I could do anything to remedy whatever it was that ailed Shildreth. My powers were solidly in the destructive realm. I could neither heal nor bind, and could only make a temporary glamor when needed. Even if I could call upon healing magics, something told me that Shildreth’s injuries were not of the sort that could be fixed.

  She glanced at her legs, hidden beneath her skirt. “It was Desmerada, you see.” Shildreth shifted back onto her bed and lay down, sighing with relief as her body settled. She ran a hand along one of her braids as she stared into the darkness above, a faraway look on her face. “One of her soldiers captured me when I was in the forest. It was foolish of me, really, to even be out alone. But I went to meet someone. In secret. He was set upon by a wolf and could not make it to our meeting place at the appointed time. He blames himself for this.” She gestured toward her legs. “Even now.”

  “Captain Lewin?” I guessed.

  Shildreth turned her head, her eyes in shadow. “Yes. It was him. But it was long ago. Things are so different now between us.”

  I shook my head. “There’s love there, and a great deal of it. I’ve been here for all of a few hours and I would bet my life on the love between the two of you.”

  Shildreth sighed. “I wish it could be like it was back then. But the day in the forest, when he couldn’t get to me in time, changed us both. Some things, once done, can never be undone. Even if they were mistakes. Even if it’s only a little thing, something tiny.”

  Her voice quieted as she went on. “As I waited for Faren, a vampire soldier stumbled upon me and captured me. He took me to the Bloodkeep, to his mistress. When Desmerada found out I came from one of the oldest vampire clans loyal to Priam, she threw a grand celebration. She invited all her nobles and soldiers to witness my downfall. I can see it even now, a great sea of crimson full of leering faces. How they spat and laughed. Desmerada mocked me, paraded me around like an animal. She had me for a month. A month of torture, of beatings, of…” Her voice shook so badly that it jarred her to silence.

  She smoothed her hands over her stomach, almost lovingly. “One day, after the soldiers had their fun with me, they left me broken in the guard tower near their barracks. I still lived, but barely.”

  Even in the fading light, tears shone on Shildreth’s face, like gossamer orbs on a dark rose petal.

  I moved to the edge of Shildreth’s bed and took her hand in my own. “You don’t have to go on.”

  “I do. I need you to know why we need Paris. Why he is our salvation.” She squeezed my hand. “I pulled myself to a window and flung myself from the tower of the keep. I landed in a tangle of Spinis, thorns with powerful poison in each tip. My legs took the brunt of the fall, saving my life. But the thorns ripped the flesh from my bones.” She shuddered.

  “I lay there for three days and three nights before one of my own found me. They heard the alarm bells at the keep and knew Desmerada’s soldiers were looking for me. In a stroke of fate, my people found me first. They brought me back home, but by then, the poison had ruined my flesh. I froze into my immortality shortly after, such that what was lost could never be regained.” Shildreth hitched up her dress. I drew in a deep breath. There was only bone, covered with wasted muscle, gleaming white even in the darkness. Her flesh had been ripped away, ruined.

  “Gods, no.” I couldn’t fathom the pain, the agony she must have gone through.

  “But that wasn’t the worst.” Shildreth’s tears came in a torrent now, falling down her face and wetting her pillow. “Desmerada took—”

  The anguish in her eyes caused my own to mist.

  “I was with child, you see, when I was captured. I carried Faren’s son.” Shildreth ran a shaking hand down her face. “Desmerada took him. Took him out of me. He was so tiny, so small. She slit his throat.” Her voice had grown weak, thin. “I had to watch. She made me watch the whole time. I remember his faint little cry before the sound was cut off.”

  Shildreth ended her tale with a sob that felt like a knife in my breast. The horror of what I’d just heard sank into me, like the poison that had destroyed Shildreth’s flesh. My hands shook as rage bubbled up within me and an ethereal wind whipped around us.

  “Do you see now? Why we need him to take his place on the throne? Why we need your help? My men told me of your magic. The two of you are our only hope. Please help us. I beg of you, my lady.”

  The wind died down, and I looked into Shildreth’s eyes. “I swear, on my honor as a warrior of the gods, I will end Desmerada’s reign.”

  Shildreth nodded and settled back on her pillow. She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Thank you, my lady. You don’t know what that means to me—to us.”

  I could never swim the depths of grief that lived in Shildreth’s heart, but I would make the cause of the wellspring pay. With blood.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Paris

  I hesitated outside Shildreth’s door, the dark wooden panel rough-hewn and worn. I raised my knuckles, dropped them, raised them again, and then tur
ned my back on the door entirely before crossing my arms over my chest.

  I cursed under my breath.

  Then I worked up my nerve. I’d never had trouble wooing women before. Not even Helen. We were so destined that we’d fallen in love easily, our souls already familiar with each other.

  Somehow, Elena was different. She’d been told for millennia that she was a warrior maiden, untouchable, above any man who thought to claim her. She’d warmed to me over the past few days, but that bond hadn’t snapped fully taut. I smiled at the memory of her in my bed, wanton and panting. Mine. The way she should always be.

  I sighed. There was more. More I needed to tell her. About me, our past. About the coming battle and how I could never risk her in the fight to win my kingdom. No matter how powerful, she could still be hurt, killed. My face fell at the memories that threatened on the edges of my mind. Memories of death. Her blood. So much blood.

  “So, are you just going to stand out here all night?”

  I whirled to find Elena behind me, a smirk on her beautiful face. She wore only a long t-shirt. Did she have panties on under there? My cock sprang to life in my pants, instantly hard. But her sexy smirk faded as soon as she saw my face. She stepped toward me, and I took her in my arms.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “Nothing. Just…memories, is all,” I said into her hair.

  “Bad ones, I take it.” She was so warm against me; her breaths calm and even. So alive.

  I stroked a hand down her back. “Yes.”

  She pulled away and looked up into my eyes. “You won’t lose me.”

  How did she know what my inmost soul needed to hear?

  She put her hand on my cheek, and I leaned into her touch. “I can’t, Elena. I couldn’t bear it. Not again.”

  I smoothed her hair behind her ear and bent to her mouth, our breaths mingling. She pushed up on her toes and made the first, perfect contact. Her lips were so soft, like rose petals. I kissed her gently until she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her breasts into me.