by Ava Walsh
The vampire gave her a cruel smile and then suddenly she was advancing. She was terribly fast and strong. In a moment, the black fabric was over Avery’s head and she was being wrapped up in it. She screamed, but the fabric muffled her voice. In mere moments she was trapped, her arms pinned to her sides.
She struggled as hard as she could, but it was no use. She was confined in the fabric and the strong arms of the woman. She was lifted off her feet and tossed over the vampire’s shoulder. They made a left-hand turn at the door and then they were hurrying somewhere.
“Help! Let me go! Someone help!” Avery struggled, but it was in vain. She fought as hard as she could, but it was futile. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew who had her. Myrcel. It had to be. She thought of the little thing growing inside of her. Did Myrcel know? What was she going to do? Why hadn’t she told Alastair? If only she had told him, he would have protected her. How long was he going to be gone? How long would it take for someone to know she was missing?
They were going down, she could feel as they descended a steep set of stairs. The dungeon, that was where they were taking her. Down and down they went as the air around her grew cold and damp. She could hear someone far off moaning in pain.
Finally, they reached level ground. The vampire took a few steps and then threw Avery roughly onto the cold, wet floor where she was unraveled from the fabric until finally she was free.
Gasping for breath she looked around the dark cell. It smelled terrible, like stagnant water and human waste. The three stone walls were wet and cold, the fourth wall was iron bars. The vampire that had grabbed her, slammed the door and laughed at her from the other side.
“Why are you doing this?” Avery screamed. She jumped up and raced toward the bars, but there was nothing she could do but weakly pull at them.
“Human whore,” the woman said her face in a nasty sneer. “You’re getting exactly what you deserve.”
“I demand you release me. I am the Flower of the Court to the Crown Prince Alastair Thorne. I share his bed and I am protected by him.”
The woman scoffed and said. “Look how far his protection has got you.”
“He’ll know I’m missing. He’ll come looking for me.”
“It will be far too late when he does,” the vampire said as she nodded behind Avery. That sick, twisted smile appeared again.
There was something behind her. Taking a deep breath, Avery turned around slowly. In the far back corner of her cell was a body, next to it a large sack overflowing with gold coins. The body was slumped over and clearly dead. She moved slowly towards it.
She toed the corpse and it fell over.
She couldn’t scream. It got trapped in her throat, her mouth was open, her eyes wide. She was screaming and screaming, but no sound came out. It was her brother. It was Tristan. It looked like something had ripped his throat open. His body was pale save for the huge red gash across his throat.
“I was almost impressed with his arrogance,” Avery recognized the cold voice of Myrcel instantly. “He tried to blackmail me. Can you believe it? This peasant dressed as a guard. I laughed right in his face. He didn’t like that, fortunately, he didn’t live long in his anger.”
Avery turned and looked at the tall beautiful Vampire Princess. Even here, in this dungeon, she was stunning. Her long blond hair was perfectly arranged and her clothes were the finest Avery had seen. But always there was that snide expression on her face.
“I want you to know something,” Myrcel said slowly. Her eyes never leaving Avery’s. “You are nothing. You are not special. You are not going to bear a great hybrid King. You are a whore and a plaything. Alastair can put all the fancy jewelry he wants on you. It changes nothing. I am his wife. I will bear his heir, not some human slut.”
“You think he would return to you after hearing about this?” Avery demanded. “He loves me. He hates you. If he finds out you’ve touched me his vengeance will be swift and fierce.”
“Yes, if that were the case. But Alastair will hear of none of this. What he will hear is that you attempted to escape with your brother, a bag full of his treasures in your hands. You were found by the guards and you tried to run, but took a terrible fall. The palace is filled with my allies. I will have witnesses to confirm it.”
“He won’t believe you,” Avery said.
“He will have no choice but to believe me. I will have all the proof and you will be nothing more than a messy smear on the ground. Don’t worry little human, he will not mourn long. He has had many playthings before you and he will have many after you are gone. In a few years, you will be nothing more than a hazy, distant memory and my son will take the throne. Everything is falling into place now. Enjoy these last few moments, human. Death is coming for you.”
She turned and walked away. Panic flooded Avery’s veins. She needed to do something. She struggled at the bars, but they were built into the walls. She searched the bag, hoping for something to use as leverage, but there was only the soft and malleable gold.
She took a deep breath and turned over her brother’s body hoping he had some tool on him. His skin was cold and she tried her best to avoid looking at the huge gash on his neck. But his pockets were empty. She was trapped.
Forlornly she touched her belly. A smear on the pavement. That was her destiny. She would never give birth to the human vampire hybrid that would reunite the Kingdoms.
Chapter Twelve
He opened his doors and was surprised that Avery wasn’t waiting for him. He had got used to her always being there. But now that she wore the Flower she could come and go as she pleased. He took off his jacket and his boots and moved over to his table, looking for a correspondence. There on the table was the carved box the flower came in.
He smiled when he looked at it, it would bring Avery safety. But as he looked at the box, something shone from the corner, so he reached over and flipped the top up. The necklace was inside, one of the strands hanging out a little bit.
Why wasn’t she wearing it? If she left his chambers without it, there was no protection for her. Something twinged in the back of his head. His instincts were that of a warrior and he knew to trust them.
“Avery!” he shouted. He raced around his rooms, checking everywhere, but there was no sign of her. She wasn't here. Where was she? What had happened? There was no sign of struggle, nothing overturned, no clue of what might have happened to her.
Myrcel, it had to be. There was no one else who hated Avery. Even his father approved of the human.
Storming down the hallway he raced to Myrcel’s rooms, throwing open the door. A maid went scurrying away. But he was too fast for her. He grabbed the girl and held her fast.
“Where is your mistress?” Alastair demanded. She cried out and shook her head back and forth. “Do not make me ask you again.”
“Dungeon,” the girl whispered and he dropped her and raced down the hallway. Every step seemed to take an eternity. It felt like he was trying to run through water. This was a nightmare. One where he couldn’t get where he needed to go fast enough. It felt like miles between him and the dungeons.
He raced down the stairs two at a time and found the dungeon master. He grabbed him by the throat and pushed him back against the cold walls.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
“Who, My Lord?” the dungeon master said. His voice choked as Alastair tightened his grip. “Lie to me and there will be no end to the suffering I bring to you.”
“Please, My Lord. The Princess, she threatened my daughters-”
“Where are they!?” Alastair screamed.
“The lowest level, My Lord,” the dungeon master answered. Alastair threw him against the walls and raced down. Guards got out of their way as he passed, their mouths hanging open.
“Come with me,” he ordered and they all fell in line behind him.
The lowest level, they raced down to the deepest dungeon. This was where they put the real criminals. The ones who they made s
uffer as much as they could. It was no place for his soft human. She would never survive down there. The door was locked, but one of the guards had a key. He quickly opened it and then stepped into his own fetid dungeon.
“Avery!” he screamed.
“Alastair!” the call was far away. It echoed around the dungeons.
“Find her,” Alastair ordered and the men scattered and began racing through the jail. He called her name again, but there was no answer. Someone must have her and they must be covering her mouth with their hand. The thought enraged him. He would kill that person and rip out their throat with his teeth.
He raced towards where he last heard her voice. He came around the corner and there was Myrcel. She looked at him furiously, baring her teeth.
“You go too far, Myrcel!” Alastair screamed, vibrating with rage.
“I go too far? You bring this human peasant into your bed. You give her The Flower of the Court. You would have her sons replace mine and I am expected to do nothing! Bearing an heir is my right.”
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“The prophecy! It decries that the human who will lay with the Vampire King and bear a son that unites the empire.”
He pushed past her. There in the cell was Avery. A strong vampire woman had her hand around her throat.
“I am the Crown Prince, I order you to release her,” the woman’s eyes travelled between him and Myrcel and then fell on the dozens of guards who had gathered around them. They were whispering to each other, the words son and prophecy echoing in the room. Finally, the female vampire released Avery.
Alastair threw the door open and she ran to him. He grabbed her in his arms and glared at his wife.
“We are done, Myrcel. Prophecy or no prophecy, Avery is the only woman who will bare my sons.”
Myrcel gaped at him, her mouth hanging open as Alastair hurried Avery up the stairs.
Epilogue
The Fire Islands were beautiful. The shores were white sandy beaches backed by blue ocean waters. The interior was a thick jungle. Everything burst with life. Fish practically jumped into fisherman’s nets. Fruits dripped with succulent juices, falling from the trees when they were ripe.
To Avery, who had spent her life in dirty back alleys and old caravans, it was a paradise. Alastair put her in a house right on the beach for her confinement. Every morning she woke to a strong ocean breeze blowing the heat away. She strolled the beaches, her feet sinking into the sand. Servants met her every need as the baby grew inside of her.
In a few months’ time, they would return to the palace, but the Vampire Princess would no longer be there. In his infinite kindness, Alistair had given a gift to Myrcel—Castle Deep Stone. It was located seven leagues to the north of the Severed Lands, buried deep in the northern mountains. When he, Avery and their child returned, the Vampire Princess would be long gone.
Alastair had no trouble putting down the small uprising of the Fire Islands. The rebels put up only a paltry fight and the people were happy to see them defeated. By the time the baby was due, he was back from his campaign and sleeping beside her.
It was a moonless night when her contractions started. She gave birth to their son in the bungalow with the roaring sea behind them. A beautiful, perfect boy they named Brandon.
With the birth over and her eyes heavy with sleep, Avery watched as her Vampire Prince held their little baby in his arms. He was so gentle and delicate with Brandon and Avery allowed her eyes to close knowing that he would permit no danger to befall them.
“Our son,” she heard him whisper and her heart swelled.
*****
THE END
Bonus Book 11: Claimed by the Dragon Shifter
By: T.S. Ryder
Description
A curvy young witch with a large responsibility PLUS a hot Dragon Shifter assigned to protect her PLUS someone trying to kill her!
Avalon Grey has always known she was born to a noble heritage and with a heavy responsibility. As a direct descendant of the famed Morgan le Fay, it will soon be her duty to protect the gates of Albian until the time King Arthur returns to this world.
However, before she can protect the gates, she first must gain control of her magic.
To achieve this goal, her parents send her to the prestigious University of Magic Vancouver. There she meets Vaughn Albanesi, the hunky Red Dragon assigned to be her protector while she is at the school.
With his intoxicating presence everywhere she goes, Avalon finds it increasingly difficult to focus on her studies. She only has ten months until Samhain Eve to bring her magic under control and that may not be enough time.
With Samhain Eve drawing ever nearer, Avalon must prove herself worthy and able of claiming her birthright and protecting Albian's gates, both to herself and to the world at large. If she can't, then it will be letting down generations of her ancestors, as well as putting the world at risk of war.
To make matters worse, somebody at the University might be trying to kill her...
Chapter One
The University of Magic Vancouver, or Ma-Vic as it was affectionately known by its students and alumni, was the premier magical university in the world. It only accepted the most talented, the most prestigious, the most promising students to be taught by its masters.
At least that was what Avalon's mother kept telling her. In truth, it had cost a tidy donation, enough to build a whole new wing onto the university library, to get her admitted. Avalon had seen the letter the board of trustees had sent her parents, though she hadn't told them that.
Sitting in the backseat of a rented Mercedes-Benz sedan, Avalon stared glumly out at Vancouver. She had expected more from the city, somehow. The tall buildings with their glinting windows in the downtown area were nothing really unique. Crowds of people moved along the streets, moving with a sense of purpose and haste that usually thrilled Avalon.
Vancouver wasn't as energetic as New York, nor was it filled with a historic air like London. Given the amount of bohemian scarves, vintage clothing and distressed designer jeans, it was also far more hipster than Avalon cared for. She had spent most of her life in luxury hotel rooms and at diplomatic parties, shaking hands with people from all over the world. She had acquired more refined tastes.
Still, she would only be here for a few months. Ma-Vic prided itself on turning out top notch witches with incredible skills within a single semester of their intensive programs.
Avalon tugged at her seatbelt, wincing as she heard the child lock engage. She tried to find a position for the belt that was neither squashing her breasts nor cutting into her neck. She succeeded only in losing what little space the belt had given her.
Her mother, Elaine, smiled in the rearview mirror at her, noticing the signs of Avalon's restlessness. "We'll be there soon."
Avalon tried to smile back at her, but her stomach twisted in knots. If the best tutors available were not able to help her get a good handle on her magic, how was this school supposed to?
It was desperation, bribing her a place among other students who were no doubt going to be talented, prestigious and promising.
I'll just have to try harder, she told herself. What does Dad always say? Failure to quit is the only acceptable form of failure?
Thinking of her dad made her smile, but it didn't last long. It was going to be her birthday soon. Once she turned twenty, it was time for her to take the keys to the Gate of Albian from her mother, and protect King Arthur while he slept.
Of course, her mother wouldn't actually transfer the keys to her until a special ceremony on Samhain Eve at the end of October. But it still didn't give Avalon much time to prepare for the responsibility.
Daughters inherited the keys from their mothers when they were twenty years old. It was the way that Morgan le Fay, Avalon's distant ancestress, had decreed when she locked the gates, sealing Arthur in his sleep for his mortal wounds to heal. If her mother did not give her the keys this year, both would be drive
n mad by Avalon's twenty-first birthday.
"Don't look so glum," Stane, Elaine's bonded dragon, her lifelong protector, twisted in the passenger's seat to look at Avalon. If continuously scanning the other cars past Avalon's head was actually looking “at” her.
"Be bold and confident. You are a Lady Grey, born of the Fey, wielder of magic. Put your shoulders back, hold your head high—"
"I'm fine," Avalon interrupted, smiling slightly. "I'm suffering some self-doubt, but I'm fine. After all, how can I not be confident when I have all this?"
She gestured down her body, indicating the tight corset top and knee-length pencil skirt she wore. The clothes hugged every curve of her bounteous figure. Not so comfortable to travel in, but it looked good on her. She snapped her fingers, creating a small spark and let it steam to emphasize her hotness.
"All I have to worry about is how to handle all my dates," she quipped.
Stane chortled and turned back to the front. He never drove if he could help it. It was easier to fight off villains or use a semi-automatic weapon. Like the one he had resting against his leg if he didn't have to concentrate on not crashing as well.
Avalon would be getting her own bonded dragon soon, though she hadn't met him yet. She wondered what he would be like. Hopefully, he wouldn't be like Stane and insist she eat fewer sweets. Life without sweets was no life at all.
***
Ma-Vic was located away from the hustle and bustle of downtown, close to the Pacific Ocean, making the weather mild and wet all year round. It was drizzling when the car stopped. Avalon stepped out, glad to escape the seatbelt and get a first look at her new home.
It was a smaller campus than she expected with the buildings closer together. There were half a dozen of them, each of them three stories high, scattered in a circle around a large grassy field that sported several stone picnic tables and a fountain right in the middle. Despite the rain, students were lounging about. Some had swirls of cloud hovering over their heads, keeping them dry.