Blood Prince: A Standalone Fantasy Romance

by Celia Aaron

  The demon licked the blood from Helen’s neck. “I’m going to fuck her raw. You’re going to watch. I’m going to make you a permanent fixture wherever we go. Your eyes will never stop seeing me on top of this bitch. You will hear her moan my name every night. And that’s not all.”

  The remaining demon soldiers formed a wall around me, the tips of their blades at my neck.

  “I’m going to kill every last vampire in the Bloodkeep. Anytime I even hear the mention of a vampire, I will send an assassin. I will hunt and kill your kind until there are none left to befoul the Underworld, or any other world, for that matter. How does that sound, king of the vampires?”

  Menelaus smiled. Those cruel eyes were the same ones that looked down on me in the dusty battlefield outside of Troy. The demon believed he had won. Just as he believed it that fated day in front of the gates of Troy. But each time—then and now—there was a piece at play that Menelaus hadn’t considered. The white queen.

  Helen’s hands erupted in flame, scorching Menelaus’s sides. He let out a gasp and backed away, keeping his dagger at her throat. He looked down at his body, aghast at the charred, melting flesh.

  Desmerada had told the truth—Helen’s magic was no longer bound.

  “Stand down, or I will torch him all the way,” Helen called to the demons. The ice in her voice was the perfect complement to the fire in her hands.

  The soldiers surrounding me did not move. Helen summoned a small fireball and pushed it into Menelaus’s chest. He sank to his knees, yowling from the pain.

  “Do as she says!” he gasped.

  The soldiers dropped their blades and backed away. I took only a step before Menelaus roared up from the ground and sank his blade into Helen’s chest. She cried out and fell to her knees.

  “I would rather destroy her than let you have her,” Menelaus screamed and twisted the blade.

  Helen pinned me with her emerald gaze as my heart froze. So much in her eyes, so many things left unsaid and undone.

  I shook my head. Please, don’t do this.

  She closed her eyes, her magic building. Menelaus pressed the dagger deeper.

  “No!” I dashed forward.

  Helen exploded into a burst of pure light, Menelaus turning into ash and the blast blowing me backward. A whooshing boom rang in my ears, followed by a chafing silence.

  I could only see white. I blinked over and over, trying to regain some semblance of sight. Stumbling forward, I tripped over bodies until I reached a clear area. There, my feet kicked only ashes. She had to be close. I dropped to my hands and knees, ignoring the remains of the demons unlucky enough to have been close to Helen when she went supernova.

  “Helen?”

  I felt a warm body under my fingers and ran my hands up. I would know Helen anywhere. It was her. I sat and drew her into my arms. She was alive, but I couldn’t tell the extent of her wounds. My vision was slowly repairing itself, but I could only see hazy colors and light. I ran my hand along her throat and winced when I felt the blood still spilling from her veins. I ripped the blade from her chest. She convulsed in my arms but made no sound.

  Pressing one hand to her neck and the other to her front, I stanched the flow as best I could. I rocked her back and forth and sent up silent prayers for someone, anyone to save her.

  Could I turn her? Give her my blood and save her as she’d done for me? Or would it be of no use since she was no longer mortal? I held her tightly in my arms, listening to her shallow breaths and feeling her blood flow onto my hands. The memory surfaced of that night so long ago when I’d awoken in the same pool of her precious blood. I couldn’t let it happen again.

  “Please, please, my love.” I still couldn’t see her. Could only hold her to me. I pressed my lips to her forehead. “Please.”

  Her breaths sputtered before resuming their shallow rhythm. Fear took hold in my breast. She had to survive this.

  “Iphi?” Helen’s voice was so faint, I almost thought I was imagining it.

  “I don’t know, my love. I can’t see her.”

  “She’s here, if she’s asking about the other female,” Faren said. “We have her, my lord. She’s only a little singed.” He coughed and inhaled deeply.

  I heard a slap and a growl.

  “Hands off the goods!” That had to be Iphi.

  “Play nice,” Helen said, her voice still a whisper.

  “Since when has playing nice been a part of warrior maiden protocol?”

  I sensed Iphi approaching and saw a vivid slash of red. “What’s with your eyes?” she asked. “Wait, you watched Elena go all kaboom? Should have closed your eyes like this here smart maiden. Oh, and this guy over here with the scars. His eyes are fine too, though half of him is charred. Gross. But you? Silly vampire king.” She plopped down next to him.

  “Does Helen look okay? How is she?” he asked.

  “Helen? Who’s Helen?”

  “I’m Helen,” Helen said.

  “Wait, what?”

  “Elena is Helen,” Paris said.

  Iphi snorted. “No, Elena is Elena.”

  “Just tell me how she is!”

  “She’s okay. Well, okay for someone with an extra smile on her neck. Ew. And the dagger to the chest. Just bad form, Uncle Menelaus.” She whistled. “He’s getting toasty by the fire in Hades right about now.”

  Movement blurred ahead of me.

  “Don’t move,” Faren growled.

  “What is it?” I drew Helen even closer to my chest, wary of any threat.

  My vision was improving by the second.

  A demon knelt, his head bowed in deepest respect.

  “Uh, why are you bowing?” Iphi asked.

  “Queen Helen is now the ruler of Decanum.” The demon’s voice trembled.

  “Are you shitting me?” The slash of red came into better focus as Iphi whipped her head around.

  “She killed Menelaus, which makes her—”

  “The boss! Well fuckin’ A!” Iphi cried and clapped her hands.

  “Order the demons to stand down, now.” Helen’s voice, now a little stronger. Her breaths were deeper, the blood flow easing.

  “Shh, now. Just rest.” The scent of her blood was still too strong. She needed to heal. Her golden hair was like a halo in my blurred sight, though I thought it appropriate.

  The demon hurried off. Helen leaned against me. I held her, at peace just knowing she still drew breath. More screams erupted in the palace below us.

  “Did you bring more soldiers?” Helen asked.

  “Sort of. Faren, take the men, wrangle the spiders—”

  “You brought spider soldiers? Like, are we talking giant spiders?” Iphi asked.

  “That’s correct,” Faren said.

  She jumped up in a blur. “Sweet. I’m going to see if I can make one my pet!”

  “I wouldn’t—”

  “Don’t worry about her,” Helen said. “She’ll probably wind up feuding with Arachne over which one of them the spiders love most.” Her strength seemed to be returning. Thank the gods.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “And, Faren, see if you can talk Farnkelan down,” I added.

  A burst of flames and explosions thundered behind us. Faren coughed.

  I smiled. “Well, at least try to talk the dragon down. I can’t have it destroying Helen’s palace.”

  “I’ll do my best, my lord.”

  “You tamed a dragon for me?” She nestled against my chest. I breathed her in, the honey scent intoxicating.

  “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  Farnkelan shrieked in irritation, the rush of its wings stirring the air even in the enclosed hallway. Faren had his work cut out for him.

  I didn’t release her for the entire time Faren and his men were clearing the palace. After a while, long after the yelling died down, Helen struggled to sit up. My eyesight had fully returned. She was almost healed, the wound on her neck closed and the one on her chest nearly closed, as well. Stil
l, I didn’t want her hurt. Not anymore. Not even a scratch.

  “I’m okay. Really.” She brushed her lips against mine, shifted in my lap, and settled back against me.

  Farnkelan landed somewhere nearby, the whoosh of air from its wings like a gust of hellish wind.

  Calming the dragon was a feat, but I had another wild thing to tame. Helen was free now. “Look, I know you just got out of a bad relationship…”

  She giggled against me, tickling my chest with her breath. “Understatement of all time.”

  “But now that you’re on the market, I’d like to formally ask for your hand in marriage.”

  Helen sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t agree to that.”

  I stiffened. Was there another? Had she fallen out of love with me? Would I have to kill another to claim her hand? I would do it.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to pledge myself to a vampire who stands a very real chance of becoming spider food,” Helen said. “Strategically, it’s not a smart—”

  I stopped her with my mouth, kissing her with a claim more powerful than any other.

  When I finally released her, in a breathy voice she said, “I accept your terms.”

  Epilogue

  Helen

  The Bloodkeep was a misnomer today. It was adorned with thousands upon thousands of white flowers, the very ground I walked on a mass of petals. I wore the traditional vampire gown of royalty—sky blue with a cape of gold. The bodice was strapless and tight, leaving nothing to the imagination. Diamonds covered the entire top, and the bottom stood out in cascading waves of poof. It was overdone, but for a royal vampire wedding, somehow just right. My veil flowed out behind me, dancing on the breeze created as Farnkelan flew by before settling atop the battlements. I entered the vestibule of the Great Hall and greeted the rest of my wedding party. Iphi was entertaining Lilah and Roth with her latest tales of bravery, this one involving some sort of oil wrestling with nymphs.

  I bent down and kissed Keilana, my flower girl, the dark braids wrapped around her head in a beautiful crown. “Now go, little one. And don’t forget to throw the petals as you walk.”

  “Yes, my lady.” She tottered off in her little girl heels.

  “Ready?” Apollo asked. He was dressed to kill in a sleek tux. His wavy golden locks were smoothed down, and his bright eyes flashed. “I’ve never had to give someone away before. I usually take maidens, if you know what I mean.”

  Iphi snorted.

  “That’s not a very royal sound, Iphigenia,” Apollo chided.

  “I’m the ruler of a demon keep full of, ya know, demons. How royal do I have to be, really?” Iphi pulled at the hem of her gold dress, putting her ample chest even more on display.

  Apollo nodded in approval.

  I had ceded my control of Decanum to Iphi, who was of royal demon lineage. Her father, Agamemnon, was Menelaus’s brother, though no one had heard from the demon royal in years. Most feared him dead. That was just fine with Iphi, since Agamemnon was the one who sacrificed her to Artemis long ago, before the Trojan War. As it was, I had enough on my plate as soon-to-be queen of the Bloodkeep without having to worry about the neighboring kingdom. Right now, I just had to keep my wedding party together until I got down the aisle.

  The music started playing. Showtime.

  “You got this, sis,” Lilah said.

  Roth offered Lilah his arm. “Carissima.”

  She took it, smiling up at him with heartfelt warmth.

  Together, Roth and Lilah walked through the double doors and down the aisle. Her sisters Lynxia, Shayla, and finally Iphi passed through the doors and into the packed hall. Emissaries and visitors from all over the Underworld were in attendance. This was as much an affair of state as it was of the heart.

  “We can still run away together, you know,” Apollo offered. “You’re already launching my ship in that dress.”

  I began regretting, for at least the tenth time that day, Lilah’s suggestion that Apollo give me away.

  “No? You sure? Ticktock. Last chance. Okay, it’s gone, the moment’s gone.” He winked at me.

  We pushed through the doors. Everyone in attendance stood, thousands of creatures watching me. I recognized quite a few of the vampires from the village, and many more whom I’d become acquainted with in the keep. Daphne, dressed in highly revealing nymph fashion, waved and dabbed at her eyes.

  “Do you know her?” Apollo whispered. “She seems familiar.” Daphne wrinkled her nose at him as he passed.

  Arachne stood toward the front, a spider at either side of her. She’d put bow ties just below their mandibles. They were almost cute, if it weren’t for the eyes, and the teeth, and the poison spines on their legs, and their love for live meat.

  Focus, Helen.

  No longer scanning the crowd, I looked straight ahead and felt my heart skip quite a few beats. Paris wore a crisp black tux with a tie of blue. The crown atop his head sent prisms of light into the air. But none of those things compared to his beautiful gaze. His eyes were full of fire. The passion that set him apart from all others in my heart shone like the sun through clouds.

  When I took his hand, the board stopped moving. All the pieces were perfectly in place, and I had no strategy for what lay ahead.

  The ceremony, officiated by Shildreth, was a short blur and ended with a kiss from Paris that I felt all the way down to my toes. A thunderous cheer erupted as he bent me back, holding me close and kissing me in front of all these guests. Literally took my breath away.

  Shildreth set a crown of gold atop my head, adorned with changeling stones to match Paris’s, and another cheer went up. Paris scooped me off my feet, carried me through the doors at the front of the room, and turned away from the main palace.

  “But the banquet—”

  “Can wait.” He strode quickly to our bedchambers. Kicking the door open, he strode inside and dropped me on the bed. “I need to be inside you right now.”

  Gods.

  I reached up to remove my crown.

  “Leave it.”

  He prowled on top of me and reclaimed my lips, now in private. His tongue massaged mine, and he reached down to pull up my skirts. After more than a few moments of pulling and searching, he rose up to his knees. “Where does this end and you begin?”

  I laughed and grabbed a huge swath of tulle, pulling it up far enough for Paris to see my bridal panties, a white thong. He licked his lips, and his fangs extended even farther. He disappeared under the fluff of skirt. He snapped through the lace with his teeth before his mouth was on me.

  His tongue took no prisoners, stroking me into a frenzy. He eased two fingers inside as he continued licking and sucking at me, making me moan. He spread my legs wider, his large palm pressing down on my inner thigh. I was so open to him that every touch of his tongue sent a vibration through me. The tension increased as he worked his fingers in and out in the same rhythm as his mouth. When he bit my tender flesh, I came with a cry, startling myself with the force of my pleasure. I clenched his fingers inside me as he kept licking me, groaning.

  When I came down from the high of his touch, he settled on top of me. I weaved my hand down past the fabric and felt his shaft, hard as a rock in his trousers.

  “I want it,” I breathed.

  He growled and moved my hand away. Springing himself free, he rubbed the head of his cock against me, teasing me with the tip. I whimpered and tried to scoot down so that he was inside me, but he moved away.

  I wrapped my hands in his hair and pulled him down to my mouth, licking and biting. He kept promising pleasure but holding back.

  Tease.

  I reached down and stroked him, loving the smooth flesh in my grip. He trembled as his need for me grew. Why wouldn’t he claim me? I licked his throat before settling back down and gazing into the heavens of his eyes. Oh, how he burned for me.

  “I need you, my king.”

  He sheathed himself inside me so fast, I gasped. “Gods.”

  He st
arted a punishing rhythm. I loved every thrust and fastened my teeth to his neck.

  “My queen,” he growled and put even more force behind his words. The bed shook as he claimed his bride. I reveled in his pure power.

  “Come for me.” He sank his fangs into my neck.

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. His fangs were a weapon. When he used them against me, I couldn’t defend myself from the rush of pleasure. The pressure grew, and he never slowed his pace. The sensations each tremor sent through me were like sweet torture.

  When he took another pull at my vein, a scream of ecstasy ripped from me, filling the room with the sound of our lovemaking. He gave a few more thrusts as I milked him, and he followed me down into the depths of bliss. His seed filled me as he groaned at my throat. His shaft kicked as he spent himself. He slowed and stilled before rolling me over so I was on top of him.

  “My queen.” He gave me one more lingering kiss.

  I was sated, and more than happy to spend the rest of our wedding night in the confines of our bedchamber. But we had responsibilities.

  “The banquet,” I said and pushed myself up on my elbows.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He flipped me on my back and slid down my body before beginning anew.

  My cries echoed through the keep for the rest of the night and many, many nights thereafter. I had given myself to Paris, utterly and completely swept up in the passion of the blood prince.

  Read Lilah and Roth’s story in Incubus.

  Or start a dark romance journey with The Maiden.

  Also by Celia Aaron

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  Darkness lurks in the heart of the Louisiana elite, and only one will be able to rule them as Sovereign. Sinclair Vinemont will compete for the title, and has acquired Stella Rousseau for that very purpose. Breaking her is part of the game. Loving her is the most dangerous play of all.

  *includes Sinclair, Counsellor, Magnate, and Sovereign