Blood Prince: A Standalone Fantasy Romance

by Celia Aaron

  My head spun as I considered Liatra’s offer. To be given the memories that flitted at the edges of my mind? The ones of Paris and me? Gods, I wanted to know. But with the good would come the bad. From what Paris had told me, I’d spent years with Menelaus before I ran away with Paris. Could I bear to regain those memories too? I could only guess at the terrors that resided in those recollections. The thought sent a chill through me.

  Lilah wrapped an arm around me. “It’s up to you, but those sound like some awesome memories. Crazy war adventures in ancient Greece? Sign me up.”

  I didn’t want to seem weak, but I couldn’t help voicing my fear. This was Lilah, after all, the one with whom I’d always shared my secrets. “The memories of Menelaus, though.”

  “You can handle it. We can handle it together.” Lilah’s arm gripped me tighter. Her voice was cold iron. “Besides, I have no doubt that you will deal with that son of a bitch with or without the rest of your memories.”

  “It’s up to you, my dear.” Liatra’s eyes were changing from midnight into starlight. Flecks of silver swirled in her gaze.

  Apollo shrugged. “Carpe diem, I always say.”

  “No, you don’t. I’ve never heard you say that.” Lilah smirked.

  “No, I’m sure I’ve said that so many times. Or maybe it’s ‘veni, vidi, vici,’ I say?”

  “Nope, you don’t say that, either.”

  Apollo crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Come on, Lilah, I know I say the ‘I came’ part a lot, at least.”

  Rake.

  I ignored the repartee that continued around me. Would getting my memories back change me so much that I became an entirely different person? Or would they make me more of who I truly was? I chewed my bottom lip. A long history of memories already filled my head. Making room for more seemed impossible, maybe even unwise. But to be able to finally know what Paris meant when he’d described his Helen, to possibly see myself as he did, was too much of a draw. Even if it came with memories of Menelaus, they were my memories, every last one of them.

  I took a deep breath. “I want them back. Let’s do it.”

  Liatra nodded. “But first, the small matter of payment.”

  “That’s my girl.” Apollo laughed.

  I took an inventory of my possessions. They were few and far between. “Well, I don’t have much…”

  The seer’s gaze fixed on the fabulous, yet garish, ruby that dominated the room.

  “Be my guest,” I said. “It’s all yours.” I doubted Paris would mind parting with it, especially given that it was in Desmerada crimson.

  “Many thanks.” Liatra tipped her head before holding out her palms, face up. The starfire in her eyes was growing, taking over the midnight completely.

  I examined Liatra’s hands. They looked normal—no magic there. Nothing to show the intense power that lay within them. Moments ticked by as my thoughts came in a rush. What would the knowledge do to my relationship with Paris, or even my bond with Artemis and my sisters? Lilah’s elbow to my ribs nudged me from my thoughts.

  “You need to know.” Lilah’s familiar, frank gaze was convincing. “And you’re in good hands with Liatra.”

  I exhaled a shaky breath and put my palms on Liatra’s. The world fell away, and only a maelstrom of memories was left. They flitted through my mind, like a scene from one of the viewing pools that grew darker the closer it got to the end. A tragedy unfolding in my mind. Me, as a child, in a bright yellow dress, picking flowers with my brothers, Castor and Pollux. Our mother, Leda, trailing behind us, glowing in the sun. “Helen,” Leda called out as I took off through the grove.

  Tears welled, the memories so comforting and warm. But then they hazed. Me again, this time naked and bound on an auction block. Vile creatures of all kinds making offers for me, seeking to own me like chattel. Menelaus offering the winning bid. Despair washed over me, the same as I’d felt when he’d claimed me from the block.

  I blinked and saw Castor and Pollux, dead at our mother’s feet. Desmerada binding my powers. Then Leda, eventually falling ill and dying after Menelaus had broken me beyond repair. The darkest despair, the thoughts of ending it all.

  But then the sun began creeping through the gloom. After my mother’s funeral, I had strayed through the rose garden at Menelaus’s Greek palace. The rose buds were preparing to bloom, their scent already heavy in the air.

  I dreamed of escape and thought to end my suffering that very night. Menelaus had no one left to threaten, no one whom I loved now that Leda had passed on to the Fields of Elysium. He couldn’t punish me any longer with threats to my family, and I had no desire to continue living this accursed life. How should I end it? Perhaps jumping from the battlements, perhaps poison…maybe just a simple blade. In any case, I could not fail, could not let Menelaus touch me again.

  I stopped in front of a tangle of two rose bushes, joined and intertwined with each other so that I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Through the thorns, I somehow saw a piece of the sky, brilliant in its blue glory. But the sky moved and emerged from behind the thick leaves. It was an eye—a man’s eye!

  Paris. His face like a new day, the sun breaking through and giving me a chance at a life in the light.

  My memories skipped along even faster. Paris and I running, sailing across an endless sea to the safety of Troy. We’d been happy there. Perfected in love. But the cloud of Menelaus threatened. The storm of war rained down over us and eventually deluged the city in untold sorrows.

  Paris dead in my arms. Menelaus’s soldiers. A flight of doves. My hand flew to my neck. The red mark. Where I’d driven my dagger deep into my body to finally escape from the demon king.

  The memories faded back into my mind, though still a part of me. I blinked, and my vision cleared. Liatra’s eyes had returned to the calm midnight. I had been clutching the seer’s hands so hard, I’d no doubt hurt her. I let go.

  “It’s all right, my dear. No harm done.” Liatra leaned back on the couch and let out a breath. Her body shook beneath her robes, and she gripped the nearest cushions as the tremors grew and subsided. Her abilities were clearly taxing. I could relate.

  Lilah’s hands were on my cheeks, and she wiped away the tears that had run freely. “You okay?”

  I drew in a shuddering breath. “I think so. It’s just… It’s a lot.” I relaxed into Lilah’s arms, laying my head on my best friend’s breast.

  “I really am Helen. The Helen of Troy.” My voice was small beside the enormity of my past.

  Lilah stroked my hair, soothing me. “Are you trying to say you’re prettier than me? Is that what this is about?”

  I snorted a laugh through my tears.

  Silence fell on the room, a hush created from the power of memories and Liatra’s abilities. I just let the steady rise and fall of Lilah’s breaths bring me back down, safe here in the present.

  Apollo spoke up, “You know, when the songs say Helen had a face that could ‘launch a thousand ships,’ what they were really saying was that Helen had a body that could ‘stiffen a thousand—’”

  “Thanks for the history lesson, boss,” Lilah cut in.

  I laughed as I settled back into the current time. Apollo smiled and gave me a friendly nod, as if to say welcome back.

  “As much as we’d like to stay and chat, Liatra has had a rough week, and I need to get her back to Delphi. Her son has been having some ragers while she’s been gone. The place is a mess, let me tell you.”

  Apollo and Liatra stood.

  Liatra sighed. “I already knew he would do it, but I’m still disappointed that he did. Oh, the life of a seer and the mother of a teenage boy.”

  Lilah gave me one more squeeze before standing. I knew I couldn’t ask Lilah to stay, though I wanted to.

  As if reading my mind, Lilah said, “I’ll be back to visit. Promise. Besides, I’m sure Apollo wouldn’t mind if I aided you in taking down Menelaus. Right?”

  Apollo crossed his arms over his bro
ad chest, flexing his pecs. “Lilah, Helen can fight her own battles. Besides, you’ll be busy fighting mine. Ares is still at the top of my list.”

  Lilah balled her fists. “Mine too.”

  “I guess we’re off, then,” Lilah said before leaning in and whispering in my ear, “I’m totally coming back to visit, and soon.”

  “I have the hearing of a god, Lilah,” Apollo said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” She shook her head.

  Apollo easily lifted the enormous ruby from its stand and tucked it under his arm. They moved into the hallway, the god leading the way. He seemed to know it by heart, though I was already lost.

  I was so happy to have gotten to see Lilah, to feel the love of my sister again. It reminded me of another, someone who had a greater need of love than any creature I’d yet encountered. Perhaps I could do something about that.

  I steeled myself before asking the next question. Seeking favors from the gods was never a good idea. They always wanted something in return.

  Still, I had to try. “Apollo?”

  “Yep?” He kept walking.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “You just did.”

  Smartass.

  Lilah looked over her shoulder at me, puzzled.

  I took a deep breath before plunging ahead. “Well, see, there’s a maiden in the Darkwood who was cursed a long time ago, and I think, well, I hope, that you could do something to help her get back to the way she was, or maybe talk to Athena about it?”

  “No can do, Queenie. Athena and I are on the outs at the moment. She’s taking Ares’s side in the dustup we’ve got going on.”

  “Hades,” I cursed.

  “Actually, Hades is on my side for once. Can you believe that?” He kept striding on down the hall. The chances of winning his help faded with each step.

  “Right, but, Apollo, this maiden. She was treated unfairly, and I think that if you just help Arachne—”

  Apollo whirled, sending the crimson banners along the walls floating violently in the sudden breeze.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you saying Arachne is here, in the Darkwood?” Apollo’s face lit, looking almost angelic. Almost. “I’ve had ‘do a half spider/half woman’ on my bucket list for millennia!”

  Lilah smirked, Liatra gave a “boys will be boys” shrug, and Apollo slapped his thigh with his free hand.

  “Ladies, looks like we’ll be making a little detour on our way back to Delphi.” The god rubbed his chest in anticipation.

  “Right, but could you help her too, not just, um…” I wasn’t sure how to couch the request. Apollo had effectively destroyed my strategy on the point.

  “Sure, sure. I’ll see what I can do, but I’m far more interested in what she can do, if you follow.” He waggled his eyebrows before turning back around and continuing out of the corridor, his pace ever quicker.

  “Needle teeth,” I called after him.

  “Under control,” he called back.

  Lilah and Liatra hurried to keep up. Apollo wasn’t wasting a second, it seemed, to get to work on his bucket list.

  “Cad,” I muttered.

  Apollo’s voice echoed through the corridor: “God hearing, Helen. God hearing.”

  And then they were gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Paris

  I had listened patiently as Faren gave me a total rundown of the Bloodkeep’s defenses, vast riches, fortifications, escape routes, history, and even its pageantry. I had heard it all, but my thoughts kept straying to Elena. She’d been gone overlong.

  The light of the suns was already fading into a serene twilight outside. Inside, there was a flurry of activity. The Darkwood vampires, along with the loyal keep-dwellers, had set about removing every trace of crimson from the keep. The effort would take weeks, if not months. But every so often, when a banner came down, the swirl emblem, highlighted in hues of blue and gold, was revealed. The symbols were etched into the immoveable walls of the keep.

  Desmerada had only managed to cover over Priam’s legacy, not destroy it entirely. I would try to continue in my father’s footsteps, though the mantle of such a king was a heavy burden. Protecting the Bloodkeep was a monumental task. Defeating Menelaus and his demon horde was even more daunting. But with Elena by my side—I gazed around the room as the workers revealed more emblems by the moment—I could manage it. She’d brought me this far.

  I couldn’t stop the smile that turned the corners of my lips when I remembered her calm decree back at my mountain home. How she would take the Bloodkeep. I had been a fool to have doubted her then and would be an even greater fool to do so now. We would destroy Menelaus, together, as it was always meant to be.

  “My lord, it is almost time to greet your subjects,” Faren said.

  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I was humbled at the thought of having subjects but wanted to reassure all vampires that the Bloodkeep was once again a safe haven. With the help of Elena, Faren, and Shildreth, the Bloodkeep could reclaim its former glory.

  Faren cleared his throat. “Well, my lord, you, uh, you’ll need to change first.”

  Paris looked down at his T-shirt and jeans. Not exactly regal. Faren was right.

  “Not to worry, my lord. Shildreth found some things when she was down in the servants’ quarters doing her inspection. Many of them saved several items of your mother’s and father’s before Desmerada spoiled the keep. Made from the Darkwood spiders’ enchanted silk, they are just as beautiful now as they were during Priam’s reign. I think she’s found something more fitting for you to wear to your first audience.”

  I rose, suddenly nervous at the thought of an “audience.” It was all so formal.

  “You’ll do fine,” Faren said. “Just go make ready. I’ll have everything prepared so it should go smoothly.”

  The captain’s confidence was a balm, though not quite strong enough to erase all my doubt. I found my way back to the cavernous bedroom. It was already more to my liking, the crimson touches all but gone. A blue robe with gold piping was laid out for me, along with a simple white button-down and dark slacks. But that wasn’t what caught my eye.

  Elena stepped from the closet, freshly showered. Her hair was in damp waves, and a towel was wrapped loosely around her. The slightest tug would send it cascading to the floor. Gods, I needed her.

  “Elena.” The only word I could get out.

  She stilled and caught me in her emerald gaze that turned sultry. Without a word, she let the towel drop. Daring me to take her.

  I needed no further provocation. I slammed the door behind me, making the room vibrate with the sound. I rushed to her and grabbed her up in my arms before tossing her to the bed. She laughed, low and sensual. I knew that sound—it played in my mind from our many nights together. I didn’t stop to think about it, didn’t care about the why of it. I only knew that she wanted me. Now.

  She watched every movement as I undressed. When her gaze hung on my hard shaft, I could almost feel it. Her arousal was heavy on the air. My need for her on my tongue was unbearable. When she let her knees fall apart and bared herself to me, I was past all sense, all logic. I was a being of passion, and I existed only for her.

  I stalked on top of her, pinning her beneath me, and claimed her mouth. Her core was so wet and so hot, I groaned as my cock settled against it. She opened her mouth to my searching tongue and answered my thrusts with her own. I palmed her breast—the tip already pearled into a perfect point. I sank down to it, sucking it into my mouth and teasing it with my tongue. Her hands ran through my hair, urging me on.

  “Taste me there.” Her voice was throaty, erotic. I intended to lock her words in my mind and play them again and again.

  I glanced up, unwilling to relinquish the bud. Our eyes met. She pulled my hair, goading me into following her command. Sweet gods, she wanted my bite. I struck, piercing her breast above the nipple. She moaned as I lapped at her. Honeyed sweetness p
oured onto my tongue. Her taste was my undoing.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Helen

  I reveled in the bite of my lover. My core tensed, the pressure building as Paris took draw after draw from my breast. His hand trailed down my stomach, making me quake, until he ghosted over my mound, through the folds, and to my nub. He circled it, teasing me as he still drank from me, slowly now, savoring it.

  He released my breast and followed the path left by his hand. Just the sensation of his lips on my stomach was overwhelming. The feel of his hands spreading my legs even wider thrilled me. But his tongue—gods, his tongue.

  He settled in, feasting on me with a low groan. I rocked my hips along to his rhythm, unable to stop myself. His tongue was nimble, flicking my nub. The tension increased and blotted out any thoughts. Only Paris and I remained. His tongue on me. Until he slipped a finger into my tight sheath. Then, the wave crested, sending me over the other side on a current of bliss. I cried out at the release, savoring each echo of pleasure coursing through me.

  He rose up my body, but I wasn’t letting him go on until I too had a taste. I pushed him up and rolled over on top of him. He growled and palmed my ass.

  “Not so fast.” My voice was barely a sound.

  I dropped kisses down his neck and into the golden hair that dusted his chest. I took one of his nipples in my mouth, sucking and biting. His hands fisted the sheets on either side. I moved to the other one, doing the same. Biting down harder, I elicited a growl. I smiled and continued my way down, kissing his hard stomach. When I got to his shaft, he fisted my hair. I let out a breath on the length of him, and it jumped. The smooth head was wet, needing.

  “Gods, woman,” he bit out.

  I licked the tip, and he bucked underneath me. When I took him into my mouth as deeply as he would go, he cried out. I moved up and down on the hard length, grazing the back of my throat before withdrawing. Up and down I went. His hands fisted my hair harder and harder. I enjoyed the feel of his tension, the rising power of his imminent release. I didn’t think I could get any wetter. I was wrong. The sheer power of him beneath me, inside my mouth, was making me melt. He was under my control now, and it turned me on more than anything else ever could.