Blood Prince: A Standalone Fantasy Romance

by Celia Aaron

  “Could you shut the door? It gets so drafty in here, you see.”

  Sure it does. I obeyed.

  Sanguine sprung the trap.

  Chapter Twenty

  Paris

  I grabbed the bars as the guards jostled the cage on their way to the great hall. My hands stung, but I ignored the pain. Where was Elena? Had she healed from her injuries? More than anything, I wanted to know the rest of her plan.

  Surely this was part of it. Doubting her was not an option. I pressed my hands against the bars, the heated agony rushing up into my wrists.

  Tilting my head back, I saw stained glass in the high windows that lined the hallway. Images of the previous rulers of the Bloodkeep were arrayed there. Beautiful kings and queens of ages past watched me as I was carried to my fate.

  Priam’s stark eyes glared down at me, so different from the loving look I remembered on my adoptive father’s face. Priam had been strong, yes, but by the time he adopted me, he had no longer been a creature of fire and blood. Instead, he had been more interested in his legacy, passing down the customs and history of his people.

  But the king had failed. The largest pane of glass along the hall had Desmerada’s likeness, draped in crimson fabric and surrounded by severed heads. Her vile taint marred even this hall of vampire legend.

  The guards dropped me unceremoniously in front of two oaken doors. I could hear murmuring in the chamber beyond—Desmerada’s nobles already congregating to see my demise. The guards draped a length of crimson curtain over my cage, clearly wanting to make the big reveal as flashy as possible. The queen’s flair for the dramatic was almost as widely known as her love of carnage.

  My thoughts drifted back to the tiny village in the Darkwood. If I were to die here, I only hoped that they would be able to thrive. This castle was their home. They rightly belonged safe inside these high walls, masters of the vampire kingdom. Instead, they suffered. If only I could make it right.

  In the dark, I sank to my knees and sent up a humble prayer to Priam and his line, seeking the strength to face my destiny.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Elena

  The moment the latch clicked shut, Sanguine was on me. He dragged my wrists behind me, crushing them in his cold grip.

  “Did Shildreth and her peasants give you as warm a welcome as I’m about to?”

  My heart sank. He knew about Shildreth and the rest. My fear for the villagers increased with each of my troubled breaths. If he knew about the Darkwood vampires, they were in grave danger. My thoughts flitted to little Keilana—the girl’s doll still sat on my bed in Shildreth’s home. The cold creature before me wouldn’t hesitate. He would kill them all if it served his ends. But how much did he know?

  “That’s right, maiden, I know all about you. I wouldn’t be much of a spymaster if I didn’t, now would I? I know how you entered the Darkwood with Paris. I lost you for a few days after that but picked you back up when you crossed into the traitors’ enclave.”

  He squeezed my hands harder. The tendons stretched painfully, but I didn’t make a sound.

  “Aren’t you going to cry out, maiden?” He sneered in my ear as he walked me to the bed and pushed me facedown into the blankets. He pulled some rope from a bench at the foot of the bed and bound me before flipping me over. The rope dug into my injured wrists, but still I didn’t make a sound. Keeping my powers in check took every ounce of my willpower.

  He settled on top of me, wedging his bony knee between mine. “Why so quiet? I like it better when you struggle. And if you cry?” He licked his lips. “That’s my favorite part.”

  He yanked my head to the side before sinking his fangs into my neck. The ripping pain unleashed the finest edge of my power, and it danced in the air around us as my revulsion grew. Sanguine was too preoccupied with my throat to notice. I forced my magic to dissipate. I needed to play along until I got the information I needed.

  He took three deep pulls before releasing me. He studied my face, no doubt hoping to find fear there. I was more than happy to disappoint him. Undeterred, he went for my mouth, but I turned away from him.

  He dragged my chin back to the center before crushing my lips with his, drawing blood as I struggled against him.

  “That’s better,” he purred and licked the droplets from my lips. “You are delicious, little spy.”

  Focus. “You knew about the Darkwood vampires?”

  “I’ve known about them for centuries.” He laughed and drew his nails down the front of my shirt, shredding the fabric with no effort. “I’ve waited for them to make a move on the queen, to destroy her so I could take the throne. But they are weak.”

  “If I were a spy, why would the queen let me leave her presence alive?”

  “Because I haven’t told that moronic cunt about your little friends.” He shoved his other leg between my thighs, pushing me open. “I thought you would be what the Darkwood vampires needed, that they would finally kill the queen, but alas, they have failed yet again. Pathetic. Their hero is trapped, soon to be killed by the pretender. Paris was their last hope. Now, I’ll have to wipe them all out. Prove my loyalty to Desmerada by dusting the lot of them, and come up with another way to end her.” He sighed, though his eyes smiled at the prospect of destruction.

  He left my neck and pushed up onto his elbows. He darted his tongue to his lips as he saw my breasts peeking from the ruined shirt. “But at least I’m going to get something out of this little misadventure.”

  I remained silent, thankful Sanguine didn’t seem to know I had intentionally gotten captured. If he’d known of Faren’s attack, he would have no doubt already sounded the alarm. My plan was still in motion, the king in play, and I hoped my moves were the only ones not going according to plan.

  In my mind, I saw the battlements emptying—the soldiers amassing in the great hall. Each watchtower would be guarded by a solitary vampire. The rest of the horde would be in the great hall, packed in to witness Desmerada’s greatest triumph. The queen would want everyone there, even down to the lowliest soldier, as she ended the line of Priam and ensured her place atop the Bloodkeep. Faren’s troops would make their way through the towers, taking out the lone guards as they went. No alarms, no survivors.

  The grandest diversion—Paris on the chopping block—was the only thing that could get Desmerada to let her guard down. It was a huge risk. But this was the only chance they’d ever have to finish her and retake the vampire homeland. I had convinced Shildreth and Faren, barely, to agree to my plan.

  Risking Paris was not something they were inclined to do. But my strategy was the best they’d had in the long years since Desmerada’s reign of blood began. I regretted being unable to tell Paris, but he was too set on protecting me to ever let me stray into the queen’s clutches.

  This was the only way. And I knew it was the perfect strategy. Surprise attack. But in order for it to work, I needed to be in the great hall, where I could do the most damage. As it was, my hands were at my back and the clock was ticking.

  He smirked and hooked a claw in my pants, splitting the leather down to my hip bone. “Don’t worry, maiden, I’ll be gentle.”

  “I won’t.” The air wavered as I took the risk and summoned my fire. Sanguine’s eyes widened with fear as the bed went up in an inferno.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Paris

  I shifted in my darkened cage, wondering what Elena had up her sleeve. The sounds in the great hall grew louder, more and more voices joining until the room was bursting with noise and movement. I had no doubt Elena could easily disentangle herself from the spymaster. But that still left me in the dark about the rest of the plan. I sat and bided my time until a hush fell over the great hall.

  Desmerada’s voice wafted through the wooden panels. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve summoned you here on this fine evening. I have quite a special treat for all of us.”

  The doors swung open and the cage began to move. I sensed a room packed with
my kind, a multitude of vampires come to witness my execution. The only sound was the muffled steps and grunts of the guards as they labored through the room, lifted the cage higher, and finally perched it atop a platform.

  Whispers fluttered around me as intrigue grew in the air.

  “As your queen, I have always endeavored to annihilate any threats to our homeland.”

  A smattering of applause.

  “This is no different. However, I have now captured the biggest threat to our joy. Not even the demon Menelaus is a greater enemy. No, this is a traitor who has terrorized our peace and good fortune, haunted our very dreams, for thousands of years.”

  A roar of murmurs swept through the crowd like wildfire. One word was on the air, carrying from one noble to the next. Paris.

  “Silence!” Desmerada boomed before settling back into her conciliatory tone. “Even now, after all this time, I have continued our hunt for the one who would seek to destroy us. And now”—her voice rose for the flourish—“see for yourselves!”

  The curtain was ripped from the cage, and the nobles nearest me backed away. A discordant rush of hisses rose in the room. Some of the female nobles clutched the jewels at their throats, and they all bared their fangs.

  These were not the nobles of my father’s reign. Instead, they were the dredges left after Desmerada purged any and all who were still loyal to Priam’s line. The real vampire lineage lived in the Darkwood village. They were the last light, the last hope for the vampire race, not the adorned pretenders surrounding me.

  Desmerada sat at the head table, front and center in the hall. She raised a golden cup to me, and the nobles followed suit. “To the traitor. Askenith.”

  The nobles repeated her words before draining their cups. The air was thick with anticipation. Desmerada rose from her seat. She wore a crimson gown that plunged in a deep V down to her stomach. Her dark hair was coiled on her head. The crowd parted and bowed as she approached my cage.

  A dozen guards ascended to the platform. One readied to open the latch while the others tensed to grab me. I didn’t fight—simply walked out and into their rough grips. There was nowhere to run. Nothing I could do. I placed all my trust in Elena. That trust wouldn’t fail me, not even if Desmerada’s sword took my life and sent me to Hades. I would never stop believing.

  “Kneel.”

  The guards shoved me down to my knees. I raised my gaze to meet Desmerada’s. She smiled, cruel joy on her face, as she took an ornate sword from one of her guards.

  “For your crimes against my kingdom, I decree your death.” She moved to my side as rough hands pushed my head down, baring my neck for the blade.

  I sensed her raising it high over her head. Closing my eyes, I envisioned Elena, her green eyes and golden hair giving me a calmness I never thought possible. She was my white queen.

  The blade sliced the air, whispering death on the way to my neck.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Elena

  I hurried through the empty hallways. Tripping over the long hems of Sanguine’s trousers, my disguise became a stumbling block. After I’d dispatched him in a screaming vortex of flame, the bed was an inferno. I’d raced into the dressing area and thrown on some of his clothes. They would at least give me a chance at sneaking into the great hall without attracting too much attention. I could do nothing for the fire and only hoped it wouldn’t rage beyond Sanguine’s room. But I didn’t have the time or inclination to worry about it.

  Desmerada’s voice was in the air, and I followed the sound. I slowed my pace when I saw a crowd of vampires, both nobles and soldiers, hovering outside the massive doors to what must have been the great hall. They paid me no attention as I skirted them and darted inside. It was packed, thousands of vampires in standing room only. Some had climbed atop various banquet tables scattered around the room to see the spectacle.

  At the center, atop a gilded platform, Paris stood in his cage. His back was to me as he faced Desmerada. She raised her glass in a toast, and the vampires around me echoed the words in response. I dove in, wending my way closer and closer to Paris. None of them seemed to care. They couldn’t rip their gazes away from Desmerada’s prize.

  The hour was up. Faren was late.

  Desmerada mounted the platform. I continued toward Paris and the queen, the vampires ever thicker the closer I got to the center of the room. Now I had to fight, pushing and elbowing my way along.

  The guards forced Paris to kneel as Desmerada drew her sword. She raised it above her head for the killing blow. It was now or never. I jumped atop the nearest table to get a clearer view.

  Desmerada swung the sword. I hurled a firebolt, the scorching ray burning through the air. It struck the queen square in the chest and hurled her backward before she could finish her stroke. The sword clanged to the ground as the crowd surged up around me. A multitude of hands pulled me down from my perch. I summoned two storms of fire and incinerated dozens of vampires in my radius. The ones outside my hex backed away, and the remaining vampires panicked and ran. I ignored them and turned back to Paris.

  The guards had him on his feet and held fast. Desmerada, her chest and face blackened, pressed her silver blade to his throat, burning him.

  When she saw my face, her eyes grew wide. “Helen!” she screeched.

  Déjà vu swirled inside me. Desmerada knew me. How? A fragment of a memory flashed through my mind—Desmerada sitting next to a cauldron of Hades fire. Then it was gone.

  Desmerada bared her fangs. “One step closer and I will end him. I swear it.”

  The nobles had cleared out, but the soldiers advanced on me, staying just outside my blast radius.

  “Elena, run.” Paris ignored the burn of the blade and bored into me with his gaze.

  Desmerada sawed the blade back and forth, cutting into the first layers of flesh. Paris grunted but did not cry out as blood poured from the wound.

  Desmerada stilled her movement. “She’s not going anywhere. Menelaus would give me anything for her.”

  I maintained the fiery maelstrom swirling around me, keeping the soldiers at bay. Several of them launched a volley of arrows. The flames ashed each one before it could find its mark.

  “Don’t kill her, you idiots. Take her!” Desmerada cried.

  The soldiers hesitated at the edge of the destructive magic.

  “I will burn through them all,” Elena said. “And then I will burn you.” The air roiled and surged with flames. I let the full force of my power flow out, the flames hot enough to bubble the stone floor and send every soldier nearby into puffs of ash.

  “Your magic won’t last forever.” Desmerada bared her fangs.

  “Long enough to destroy you.” I dove deep, pulling up the heart of my power and infusing the air with flaming death.

  “Burn yourself out, sweet Helen. Then you’re mine.” She sawed deeper into Paris’s neck.

  He kept his eyes on me. “Run, Elena. Leave me.”

  Desmerada cackled. “He’s still in love with you, after all this time. How quaint.” She shook him. “I’ll ride him like a stallion while you watch, then bathe in his blood. I’ll—” Her voice died as an arrow pierced her throat. Her soldiers were momentarily shocked, as was I.

  She released the sword and scrambled to withdraw the bolt from her neck. More flew in, piercing her so many times that she dropped to her knees.

  Paris dropped down and swept his leg out to knock everyone on the platform off their feet. He gripped the sword and began fighting the nearest guards, the clang of metal shooting through the hiss of the fire.

  I kept the intensity of my spell, even as the magics drained me. More vampires at the periphery were set alight—some incinerated on contact. Paris battled in a blur of ferocity, taking down soldier after soldier. He gave no mercy, dispatching every adversary as he fought his way to me.

  My spell’s radius began to shrink, the vampires getting closer and closer as my ability to wield the power slowly faded. I had never used up s
o much magic, never needed to when I had my sisters at my side.

  I dropped to my knees, the soldiers creeping closer as the flames pulled back. But then they turned away from me, their backs to the fire as they began fighting a new front. Faren’s soldiers were overwhelming the room from all directions. Desmerada’s forces were pinned between my fire and the invaders’ blades.

  In one final push, I seized the power inside me and pushed it out, birthing a wide arc of fire that cut down hundreds of soldiers. I was a supernova, giving my last bright light before going cold and dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Paris

  I watched Elena sink. She’d released the last burst of power she could before falling forward on her hands. I scented her tears, the taste of her sadness cracking me open, and I rushed to her side.

  The sound of battle echoed through the hall, and arrows flew all around. Faren’s forces overwhelmed the last soldiers who still lived after Elena’s volcanic onslaught. Because of her, they were no match, and the Darkwood vampires rolled over their enemies.

  The vampires no longer crowded around Elena. They were too busy fighting the invaders. Elena had fallen to her side, and her breaths came fast and shallow. I lifted her into my arms. Clearing the nearest standing banquet table in a violent sweep, I laid her down before checking for any close foes. There were none.

  The hall had emptied of crimson soldiers so that only one enemy remained. Desmerada, still atop the platform, a look of utter disbelief on her haughty face. She seemed to awaken from her stupor and crawled toward the back of the room. Another arrow hit her in the shoulder.

  “One more step and I’ll end you,” Faren called from behind me.