Blood Prince: A Standalone Fantasy Romance

by Celia Aaron

  “It’s me, my lady.” Shildreth’s voice barely carried to the bed.

  “Come in.”

  Shildreth made her way to me and sat down. The corners of her mouth were drawn down in worry. “We’ve had reports from what few loyal spies remain that Menelaus is amassing his troops for war. They also confirmed something we had long suspected. Menelaus and Desmerada had worked out a truce of sorts, sending their soldiers into battle only when a thinning of the herd was needed. All moves were orchestrated so that each ruler could keep their people in check by having a constant outside threat.”

  Not surprising, especially given my knowledge of their past. They were cruel leaders, only interested in keeping themselves propped at the head of their realms. One down, one to go.

  “But more than that, we received word that he intends to send a scout team to take you before marching on the keep.”

  “He’s coming for me.” The chill in my bones doused the fire that had burned inside me for the better part of the night. I sat up.

  “My emissary was unable to give me any more information except for this: he said that Menelaus kept a secret, one that he would use to get you and keep you.”

  “A secret?” I had no idea what that could mean.

  “That’s all his missive revealed. In any case, the scouts have already been sent out to claim you. We don’t know when they’ll strike. I can only hope they aren’t already here. Our army is new, and though the keep is fortified and protected, Desmerada’s relationship with Menelaus is troublesome. No doubt he knows a few more ins and outs of the keep than we would like. I came to tell the king that I think it would be best if you stayed in the Darkwood with Arachne, or perhaps even farther away. It’s not safe here for you.”

  Menelaus’s plot was already moving, the pieces hemming me in and forcing my hand. The Bloodkeep was just now coming back to life. Its fledgling army could not defeat Menelaus’s hundreds of thousands of trained demon warriors. They would overrun the entire vampire civilization in hours and take it apart brick by brick. The Darkwood would burn, and all would perish. I had watched as they razed Troy and would not allow history to repeat itself here, among the vampires who had taken me in and treated me as one of their own. I would save Paris this time, succeed where I had failed and keep him safe from Menelaus’s blade.

  I dashed to the closet and dressed quickly. “I’m not running, Shildreth.”

  Shildreth sighed. “I thought you would say that. But we will need to let the king decide.”

  “No.” I already knew what his decision would be. To send me far away from any hint of danger. And that was a result I could not allow.

  Shildreth watched, crestfallen, as I drew on a pair of boots and tucked silver blades into each. “What do you intend to do?”

  “I think I’ll take a turn about the keep. See what there is to see. Get a good feel for all its nooks and crannies.” I threw on a black leather jacket. If the scouts were already inside the Bloodkeep’s walls, it wouldn’t take me long to run into them.

  Shildreth’s eyes darkened. “Please don’t do this.” Her voice was quiet, barely breaking the surface of sound.

  I embraced her. “I will see you again. I swear it. Tell Paris…” I wasn’t sure what I wanted Shildreth to tell him. That I had decided to let myself be taken so I could destroy Menelaus once and for all? Paris would come for me as soon as he learned what happened. I only hoped I would have enough time to end the war before it began. But if Desmerada had lied and my magics were still bound, they would all be swept up into the same bloody tide that drowned Troy.

  “Tell him this is the only way to checkmate.” I gave Shildreth what I hoped was a reassuring look and strode from the room.

  She would no doubt hurry off to find Paris and Faren. Workers still labored in the bright halls, removing every hint of Desmerada and letting Paris’s emblem shine through. They bowed low as I passed. I answered with curt nods and smiles.

  I found the nearest stair and continued down, the air chilling the lower I went. The workers’ voices soon faded, and only the hushed sound of my boots on the steps remained. I beat a steady rhythm until I came to an empty and cobwebbed corridor. This was as good a place as any.

  Stepping from the curving stair, I lazily made my way past the empty rooms full of dusty furniture. The windows were boarded, causing the chill, and only slivers of light made their way in. These rooms must have been for the older children of the keep long, long ago. There were knickknacks scattered around, and more than a few beds still had crumbling books opened on them. A thick layer of dust covered everything, quieting my steps. They must have been attacked by Desmerada’s forces at night, taken from their beds, and led to a grisly end. No more children ever lived in the keep, which perhaps was a good thing.

  Spider silks hung in the undisturbed air, pulling at my hair like skeletal fingers. I shivered and continued, the gloom growing the farther I strayed from the stair.

  Behind me, near-silent footsteps haunted my path. Shildreth’s intel had been correct. The scouts were already here. I only hoped Shildreth would be able to trace where they had entered the keep and secure it, so that none of Menelaus’s demons could hope to snuff out the vampire king in his sleep. The many servants and soldiers on the upper floors reassured me, but still I worried.

  The demons picked up their pace, hot on the trail of their prey. I continued my leisurely tour, as if oblivious to them.

  I knew I would never return from Decanum. Never see Paris’s face again. But this was the only way to end the demon who would see the keep and all within it dead. And Menelaus had the power to make it happen with the snap of his fingers. I did not look forward to my fate, but neither did I fear it. I would die as a warrior and take Menelaus down with me. My heart faltered at the thought of losing Paris, but this was the only way to give him a chance to become the king I knew he could be.

  A hand dropped over my mouth, silencing the scream I didn’t bother making. The assailant forced a cloth to my nose, the scent like summer flowers tinged with something darker. It was the darkness that overtook me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Paris

  Faren and I had walked through the village at the edge of the keep and inside the high walls. It had once been filled with scores of vampire families, though portions of it were now decayed and gone under Desmerada’s harsh rule.

  The few vampires who still lived there were hesitant at first, scared that I would be just another Desmerada. But they began to speak with me and show me their shops and homes. I was humbled by them. They had suffered so much under Desmerada’s rule, but persevered, surviving and raising families. They were the future of the race, not the dark and twisted nobles who had laid waste to Priam’s legacy.

  We continued along until the suns began their gradual descent. We’d circled the great keep and moved up another level to the Nobles’ Road. The houses here were grander but silent—their masters having fled or taken up residence in the dungeon. I was pleased to see the Darkwood vampires moving in along the road, as well as some of the villagers with larger families. The crimson was coming down here, as it was all over the keep.

  The friendly little girl from the village was helping her mother unload their sparse belongings from a cart. I strode up and petted the family’s friendly amaranth before hefting several heavy bags and a ragged chest of drawers up the grand steps into the home. The items from Darkwood clashed with the glitzy interior of the manor house, though I rather enjoyed the meeting of the worlds.

  The mother bowed, and the child did her best to do the same. I caught her before she toppled onto her nose. I settled her back on her feet as she darted her shy gaze away. “That bow was good, but it may need a little more work, precious one.”

  Her mother bowed even lower. “Askenith.”

  “Shakorah.”

  “Halt!” Faren yelled from outside the building.

  I tensed and glanced to the main road. “Stay here and lock the door.”
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  The mother obeyed as I rushed out onto the stoop, closing the door behind me. Faren stood on the bottom step, his sword drawn as a vampire came running down the road at a hellish pace.

  “It is I, my lord.” The runner stopped and bent, putting his hands on his knees.

  Faren recognized him and sheathed his blade. “What’s got you running like one of Arachne’s spiders is after you?”

  “Shildreth sent me. They’ve taken her.”

  “My Shildreth? Where, who?” Faren dashed to the exhausted soldier.

  “No, not her. Askenor. The demons came for her. Shildreth sent me to find you.”

  My blood turned to ice. If Menelaus even thought to harm Helen… I yelled to the amethyst firmament, my anger a scourge on the air.

  I rushed to the winded soldier and dragged him up by his collar. “How long has she been gone?”

  “Hours, my lord. I tried to find you, I ran through the village, I-I—”

  I didn’t wait to hear the rest. Dropping the soldier, I took off up the steep road leading to the keep. Faren followed close behind. I blew through the open keep doors and hurried to the throne room. Shildreth sat there on the steps, her face drawn.

  “They took her through a lower corridor. A secret passage even the servants didn’t know about. I’m so sorry, my lord. So sorry.”

  I paced, trying to think of a plan, some way to get to Decanum and reclaim Helen. But she was the tactician, and she was gone beyond my reach.

  “She knew,” Shildreth said. There was not even a single note of hope.

  I rounded on her. “She knew what?”

  Faren stood between Shildreth and me. He put a hand up toward me to ward me off. “Give her a chance to—”

  “She knew what?” I yelled.

  “I told her they were coming for her. I had intel, you see, just this morning. She knew, and she let them. She let them…” Her voice broke on a sob. Faren went to her.

  I sank to my knees and gazed up at the ceiling. The workers hadn’t gotten to this part of the keep yet. The crimson image of Desmerada in a bath of blood was still there. Her eyes taunted him, laughing at her inside joke. The king, powerful and victoriously returned to his throne. But those laughing eyes knew, as I knew, I was nothing without my queen.

  She had sacrificed herself for me. Her plan was no doubt to kill Menelaus. But even if she managed to cut off the serpent’s head, the rest of it would coil around her and take her life. Menelaus’s army was legendary for their brutality. They would make her suffer. I had failed her yet again, allowed her to slip through my fingers and back into death’s tight grip. Here I was, playing at being king, while she put her life on the line to take out the most powerful enemy of all vampire kind.

  I had to get her back. Her resolve, her fire, spurred me back to my feet. “Faren, how many days to Decanum from here?”

  “It’s impossible, my lord. The Desert of Thorns is rife with Menelaus’s soldiers. There is no way to get there without paying with your life.”

  I knelt before Shildreth and Faren. “I need your help. I’m not asking you as your king. I’m asking you as her friends.”

  Shildreth put a trembling hand to my face. “I’m afraid Faren is right. There is no way to reach Decanum alive through the Desert of Thorns. And there is no way around it. Decanum has no other entrance. Our portal cannot access theirs, and in all the time our spies have been searching, not a single secret passage has been discovered. I am so sorry, my lord.”

  Shildreth’s gaze strayed from my face and focused on a point behind me. I turned to see Arachne and a contingent of her spiders. They followed in two even lines behind her.

  “She’s right. You will never make it through the Desert of Thorns. But”—Arachne ordered her spiders to stay put as she came to my side—“you could fly over it.”

  It would take Zirga days to get to the Bloodkeep, and I had no way of summoning her. The furies would be of no help—they worked only as assassins, not couriers. Out of options, I asked, “What did you have in mind?”

  “Farnkelan.”

  Faren scoffed. “The dragon? He’d never let a vampire ride him, especially after what Desmerada did to him!”

  “Like all wild things, he can be tamed.” Arachne’s black eyes glittered in the light, giving her an otherworldly beauty.

  I remembered the great wings and talons I’d seen through the dark branches of the wood. A dragon that size could carry a band of soldiers and me to Decanum, and take out legions upon legions of soldiers with its fiery breath. But it was an insane strategy. If gentle Zirga had misgivings about me, how would I convince Farnkelan to trust me?

  Helen’s words drifted through my mind, how she pitied the dragon for its mistreatment. How anything, if given a chance, could become something better. I would take my chances if that meant I had even the slightest hope of getting her back.

  I stiffened my resolve. “Faren, bring your six best soldiers. We’re going to the Darkwood. After that, we rain down destruction on Decanum.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Helen

  Cold seeped into me, chilling my bones. Only one spot on my body radiated any warmth—the demon mark on my back.

  I opened my eyes and saw I lay chained to a bed, my body bare to the chilled air that wafted through the room. Large windows hung open on either side, allowing the breeze to blow through from the cold dunes of the Desert of Thorns. Decanum. My hands were bound above my head with simple chains.

  I smirked. That wouldn’t stop my magic. Instead of burning the chains and the bed into ash, I settled my heartbeat and closed my eyes, feigning sleep. I needed my enemy to come closer before I struck.

  It wasn’t long before I heard a door open, followed by quiet footsteps. It was Menelaus, his brand searing my skin. The bed shifted. He settled down beside me, no doubt taking inventory of his prize.

  “Helen,” he whispered and ran a hand down my neck, my side, and then rested it on my hip. He was so close now. It was time. I felt him draw a sheet over my body, the light touch shielding me from the winds.

  “Bring her,” Menelaus ordered. Someone scuttled outside the door. Bring who? Foreboding bloomed in my heart.

  “I know you’re awake, my love. I have a present for you.” He was so close to me his breath stirred my hair.

  I dropped the act and turned my gaze on him. He was a mix of triumph and lust. His eyes were bottomless, and he was still the monster of my nightmares. The air shimmered, my powers on the edge of a knife.

  “Not so fast. Wait until your present arrives.” He tsked at me.

  Voices in the hallway pulled his gaze away from me. Laughter and banter rose to a cacophony outside the door. There was a woman’s voice telling a dirty joke. The voice and the joke were both familiar. I stared at the door, praying that it wasn’t who I thought.

  At the sound of more raucous laughter, Menelaus drew a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “For the love of Hades,” he cursed.

  A knock. “My lord, she’s here.”

  I held my breath as my stomach roiled.

  “Enter!”

  The door swung open, and in walked two shirtless guards followed by two more fully clothed soldiers. Behind them was a woman, fried pork skins in one hand and a set of cards in the other. “What’s up, Uncle? We were just playing strip poker—”

  My heart sank. “Iphi!”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Paris

  The Darkwood was steeped in twilight. Mist roiled as my men and I sped toward the destroyed watchtower. Arachne accompanied us, her spiders trailing behind her.

  “How do you intend to tame him?” she asked.

  I hadn’t the faintest clue. “I’m just going to play it by ear.”

  “That’ll be a short tune, my lord,” Faren said.

  “May I suggest something?” Arachne asked.

  “I am definitely taking any helpful input at the moment.” I ducked, avoiding a low-hanging branch.
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  “What moved me to spare both you and Helen was her thirst for vengeance, her desire for justice. It answered my own thirst that I’d hidden deep within my breast.” The spiders tittered. “To hear the echo of trust betrayed or love shattered in another is the only thing that moves wild things who do wicked deeds to assuage their own anguish.”

  “Well said, Lady of the Wood,” Faren agreed. “But I’m not entirely sure Farnkelan will listen to reason.”

  “I’ll do anything to get her back. Anything.” Every second lost was a dagger to my soul.

  The ruined tower finally came into view. The dragon was not perched atop it, but a rustle in the trees above alerted us to the winged terror overhead.

  I slid from my amaranth and shouldered my massive shield. I only hoped the swirl pattern would awaken fond memories of Priam in the creature’s breast. If nothing else, it would bear the brunt of the dragon’s fire…at least for a time.

  Turning to Faren, I said, “Stay in the woods. If I fall here, find a way to get her back. I don’t care what you have to do, just get her away from Menelaus.”

  “Aye, my lord. Askenith.” Faren took a knee, as did all his men.

  “Shakorah.” I hoped it wouldn’t be my last word.

  I turned to the clearing and picked my way over the blasted hunks of stone and twisted roots.

  The first shot came fast, a blur of flame in my vision. I hefted the shield and felt my skin singe where the orange flames licked around the metal. Farnkelan seemed to be in no mood for visitors.

  A whoosh of wings and the dragon was off again, soaring into the starlit sky. Its ridged tail lashed the air, and its green scales glinted in the light. It was easily one of the largest creatures I had ever seen as it moved through the air with the swooping, powerful strokes of its wings.

  “Farnkelan,” I cried, “I have come here as a supplicant—”