by T. S. Ryder
“Are you sure?” she asked. She was met with a withering look as she slowly pulled the towel from her hair and laid down against the pillows. Already, her eyes began to droop.
“You’ve had a rough day, sweetheart. You need proper rest and you won’t get that out on the couch,” he said, reaching over to the lamp beside the bed and flicking it off. Slowly, he laid beside her and cradled her to his chest with a soft hum, pleased to find she made no attempts to move away or protest.
“Besides,” he whispered, hugging her closer until his lips rested just above her ear. “I missed you too much to sleep away from you tonight.”
Marceline giggled softly and pressed her face against his neck, a soft hum falling from her lips.
“I love you, Desmond.”
“I love you, too.”
He waited until he was certain she was asleep against him, before kissing her on the forehead. It wasn’t like him, being so outwardly emotional, but then, the day had been tense and he owed it to himself to love Marceline. After all, there was no promise that Marceline would keep wanting to fix things between them in the morning.
Chapter Six
Desmond didn’t know when he had finally drifted off to sleep, but it seemed only seconds had gone by before he jerked awake. At first, he wasn’t sure why. The sky was still dark outside and the clock beside the bed showed it was just past three. Marceline laid curled up beside him, her curly hair splayed out like a mane around her head.
Slowly, he relaxed beside her again and closed his eyes again, only to tense as a strange smell hit his nose. He stilled completely, not even daring to breathe as he strained to listen around him. Something was wrong.
Marceline’s deep breathing was distracting beside him and deadened the other soft sounds of the night, yet still he strained until—
“Say goodnight, Desmond.” The soft shnk of a knife being pulled from its sheath sent adrenaline flooding his system, fueled all the more by the softly whispered statement. His eyes flew open only to stare straight up into Ramson’s cruel green irises.
He moved—too late—to attack the rival alpha that stood over him, only to feel the cold bite of steel sink into the flesh of his chest.
“M-Marceline!” he choked out, eyes lightening silver with the danger of Ramson presence.
“Shut up. She’s mine, Desmond. There is nothing you can do to stop that,” Ramson snarled, turning the knife handle as he bore deeper into the wound he’d created.
Blood poured from Desmond’s chest and yet his skin still shivered. The clicks and pops of bones reshaping could be heard for a mere handful of seconds until a wolf exploded from Desmond’s body.
With a thunderous snarl, he charged at Ramson, lunging at his legs, his sides, his hands, anything he could get his jaws around. At one point, he sank his teeth deep into the rival alpha’s calf, but even as a human, the man possessed a strength and agility that he should have.
With a few sharp shakes, Desmond lost his hold and Ramson bowled him over, a second knife gripped in his hand.
“Give it up, Desmond,” he sneered, lunging forward with blinding speed that left Desmond with a fresh slash across his snout. He snarled deafeningly but made no move to attack further as his eyes started blurring with blood loss. “Marceline was never yours! She never wanted you! You’re stifling! Uncaring! She h—“
Three loud cracks of a gun firing cut off his word, and with wide eyes, Ramson looked down at his chest. Blood welled up from three, near perfect, circular wounds until, much like the wound Desmond had suffered, it coated his entire front and dripped to the floor.
“Don’t speak like you do any better, Ramson.” Marceline murmured, the gun she had threatened Desmond with the morning before was once again gripped firmly between her hands.
The rival alpha’s eyes flew wide as he stumbled about, turning to face the woman with pure hatred in his gaze until, with a gasp, they rolled back in his skull and he fell face first into the growing puddle of his own blood.
Marceline shivered as she dropped the gun, tears of fear and anger apparent in her dark brown eyes as she quickly ran to Desmond’s side and with trembling hands, inspected the stab wound on his chest.
“T-Turn back, baby… Please. W-We,” she sniffled, a look of panic on her face. “We need to get you patched up.”
Desmond whined, his eyes hazy and distant. For a moment, he didn’t think he had the energy to change back, but one look at the sheer desperation on his mate’s face and he slowly, painfully shifted back into his human form.
The wound on his chest was deep. Far deeper than anything he’d ever received before and his entire body felt cold. In the growing darkness, though, he was aware of Marceline’s touch as she held him.
“Gauze...” he whispered, forcing his eyes to focus on her perfect face. “Pack the wound with gauze.”
“I can’t leave you!” Marceline cried, clutching desperately at his hand as tears rolled down her cherub cheeks.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be ok,” he whispered, a faint smile on his lips. “Pack the wound. Stop the bleeding.”
He watched as she nodded and smiled. With a shaking hand, he reached up and brushed away a tear on her cheek. She laughed sadly and pressed into his touch, shaking herself, she got to her feet and walked away.
In the moments she was gone, Desmond had to seriously struggle with himself not to fall asleep.
“It’s just a little blood loss,” he scolded himself, gritting his teeth. “What’s the big deal?” But, he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t relieved when his mate returned and began stuffing the stab wound with gauze, as instructed.
“Son of a…” he swore, alertness gripping him as pain at her prodding rocked through him. A cold sweat had broken out on his skin by the time she was through. Things must not have looked so bad, though, because Marceline smiled and laid down beside him on the blood soaked floor, her hand resting against his bandaged chest gently.
“I thought you were the one who was going to take care of me,” she teased softly. Her lips pressed lovingly against his side before he could answer, and he sighed, knowing she meant the words to help him feel better.
Ramson was dead. His pack would scramble to find a new alpha that, hopefully, wasn’t as corrupt by lust as Ramson had. There was nothing left to worry about, except—
“Marceline?” Desmond whispered softly, his voice hesitant as he forced himself upwards just enough to look at her properly.
“Desmond what—“
“I want to meet Therese,” he told her, “Soon.”
Marceline stared at him with a stunned expression on her face. Her dark eyes were puzzled, scared and excited all in the same instant. For a moment, he worried that her concern about him taking their daughter away from her still haunted her, but then her face softened, and a rock fell off Desmond’s chest. “I’ll call Auntie May tomorrow, see if she can bring Therese,” she told him gently.
She began to settle at his side again when he called for her again.
“Marceline?”
“Yes, Desmond?” she asked, no doubt expecting another glimpse into the soft heart of him, the one that he saved just for her... and, now, their child.
“Will you marry me?”
Whatever she was expecting to hear, the look on her face told him that was not it. Her mouth gapped open, and she clearly didn’t know what to say. As she closed it slowly, still silent, he began to fear she would reject him, but then she curled ever closer and rested her head just below the wound she’d taken care to bandage.
“Of course…” she whispered, tears in her eyes once again and a smile on her lips. “Of course I’ll marry you, Desmond.”
He smiled and laid his head back down with a sigh, eyes slipping closed. “Good,” he whispered, finally allowing himself to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer.
“I’m never letting you get away from me again.”
“Do you promise?” she asked, kissing over his heart.
“I promise.”
*****
THE END
Bonus Book 5: The Vampire Prince's Baby
Description
A curvy orphan looking for a man to free her PLUS a sexy Vampire Prince on a quest to gain the throne PLUS two dangerous fights that must be won!
It's a great honor to be chosen to marry a son of the Vampire Empress.
Found Burlap doesn't care about honor. She also doesn't care that mating with a vampire might kill her. All she cares about is getting away from the boring orphanage she grew up in.
When Vampire General Alexandru offers her that chance, she accepts without hesitation.
Alexandru has just one thought on his mind when he chooses Found to be his mate, producing a child so that he can prove himself worthy to be the Empress' heir and take on the title of Emperor someday. The Empress has decreed that only a son with a human mate who bears his child may have the honor and Alexandru is determined that he is the one she will choose.
But there are dangerous obstacles in the way. Bear Shifters are threatening his territories and he must take action. Plus Alexandru's jealous brother Vlad has his eye on his bride.
Alexandru will not rest until he manages to claim the Empress' favor–and Found–for his own. Will he manage to do so? Only one way to find out.
Chapter One
Alexandru opened the throttle on his refurbished 1969 Harley Davidson, enjoying the feel of the wind on his face. The night was inky about him and it was only by going this fast that he could push past the hunger that burned in his throat. He had a couple of blood bags in his backpack, but he was too impatient to stop and drink.
As a general of the Vampire Empress, he held extensive lands that he protected from both Shifters, animalistic beings that could shift from human to animal forms, and his own brothers. Well, half-brothers. All of them shared a father, but Alexandru's mother had only given birth to him and his sister.
He often traveled across his territory, but rarely had the opportunity to take the time to just enjoy riding. He always had business to attend to.
And that was what he was doing here, riding along the rough roads between large stretches of fields full of crops and animals. Snatches of smells–pig, cow, tree, asphalt–all bombarded his senses as he rode, blowing away as quickly as they came.
The Vampire General passed a broken sign that read Bayside Orphanage and headed for the large house at the end of the gravel driveway. It wasn't in terrible repair, but it could use a fresh coat of paint and a new roof.
He could almost smell her blood already—the girl he had chosen was waiting for him. It had only been a few weeks since he sent out a call for all women of child-bearing age in his land to send a droplet of blood to him so that he could take a human bride. The moment he scented hers, he knew she was his.
The orphanage mistress, a tiny, wrinkled woman, waited for him on the steps. He cut his engine, put the kickstand down and approached her.
"My Lord, please spare the girl," the mistress rasped. "She has done nothing."
"Step aside," Alexandru said impatiently. "My bride awaits me."
Since the death of the Emperor, Alexandru's father, the Empress had refused to drink vampire blood. As a result, her mortality was returning and it was impossible not to see the lines on her face or the gray in her hair. She appeared to age more every day.
Her sons would continue their faithful servitude towards her for as long as she lived, but it would not be yet another seventy years before she was laid to rest beside their father. Once she was gone, the brothers would divide into factions, warring against one another until a new Emperor took his place.
"Master, the girl is an innocent," the mistress tried again, but Alexandru pushed past her.
The Empress hated to think of her sons killing each other, as well as the toll such a war would take on human lives. So she decreed that she would name one of the generals, vampires who had already proven their military aptitude, as her heir.
The catch was that he must have a mortal wife and a child from her in his arms before he was considered possible to be the heir and next Emperor.
Alexandru always knew he was meant to take his father's place and had been building his army and power since he was old enough to shoot a gun. This new declaration meant he had to adjust his plans, but he was certain that he could control the bloodlust that caused his brothers to kill their wives, rather than mate them.
As he stepped into the orphanage, his eyes found his bride instantly. The almost non-existent beat of his heart sped.
She stood near an empty hearth. An alluring, delicious scent wafted off her dark olive skin, and her slanted dark eyes gazed steadily at him. Alexandru drew in a deep breath. There was no fear in her scent. A suitcase sat near her feet and she picked it up.
"Let me look at you first," he instructed.
She set the suitcase down and stepped forward. "Do you wish me to undress?"
The mistress, who had followed him in, whimpered.
Alexandru shook his head. "I can see everything I want with you clothed."
He circled her, feeling uncomfortable like he was inspecting a prize horse rather than the woman who would be his wife. She had good, wide hips that would be perfect for birthing. Her breasts were the size of a grapefruit and would provide his children plenty of milk. She was a good, stout girl—thick and strong, not like the wives his brothers kept choosing.
"If you come with me, you will never return," he told her, stopping to stare down at her. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.
"That's why I sent in my blood. I want nothing more than to get away from this place."
The orphanage mistress gasped. "Do you think so cruelly of me?"
"I think nothing of you at all," the girl replied, not moving her eyes from the Vampire General. "I was born for better things than a lifetime in an orphanage."
"If you go with him, you were born for death!"
"Perhaps I was, then."
Alexandru's brow rose. Odd… she did not scent of depression. He didn't think she was as willing to die as she made herself believe. He put an arm around her, breathing deeply of her scent. O-negative. It was the only blood type that could bear vampire young, although the reasons for this were unknown. He lifted her effortlessly and carried her out to his motorcycle.
"My things," she protested.
"You have no need of them any longer." Alexandru deposited her onto the bike and climbed on himself. "We will be wed before sundown tomorrow and you will have everything you could want at your fingertips."
The girl nodded. "What should I call you?"
"Alexandru. It's my name. And you?"
"Found," she said, her arms tightened around his middle. "Found Burlap."
***
When Found woke the next morning, she had the briefest moment of panic. Her, marrying a vampire general? There was nothing special about her, nothing that warranted Alexandru coming to rescue her from that orphanage where day in and day out she thought she might shrivel up and die from boredom. She should have been released long ago, being a legal adult for almost three years now, but with nowhere else to go, she had stayed.
She sat up in bed gazing around the room she had been given. It was more luxurious than anything she had ever experienced. Not only did her bed have a feather mattress, but it also boasted curtains that fell gracefully at each of its four ebony pillars. Fluffy pillows surrounded her.
A vintage chaise lounge sat beside a bookshelf full of expensive-looking crystal figurines. Next to this was a vanity dresser with diamond jewelry sitting on top of it. Found felt like a princess. Well, she sort of was now. At least she would be once she married Alexandru.
A silk Persian carpet caressed her calloused toes when she swung out of the canopy bed. No sooner had she done so than a tall, willowy woman bustled in, bringing with her a wheeled cart.
The woman clucked her tongue. "How am I meant to make a wedding dress for you by sundown? I ask you ho
w?"
Found smiled, reminded of the old grumpy hen that she used to gather eggs from. "Hello."
"Why, yes, hello," the woman said, distracted. "I am Wava. I ask you again, am I a miracle worker? A wedding dress in one day! It shall be hideous and I shall die of shame. Very well, if Sandru wants to be a laughing stock, I'll have to refashion one instead of making it from scratch. What's your name?"
"Found Burlap."
Wava's dark brows disappeared under her bangs. "What sort of the name is that?"
"The one the orphanage mistress gave me when I was found on her doorstep wrapped in a burlap sack."
She still had the sack–or at least she had, until last night. It had been left behind at the orphanage with the rest of her things. Well, that was for the best. This was a new life. Being tied to the past wouldn't help her anyway.
"Found Burlap. Well, I suppose it's better than no name at all." Wava put her hands on her hips. "Are you a virgin?"
Found expected the question, but she still felt her face grow warm. She took a deep breath, heart beginning to quiver nervously. What if Alexandru no longer wanted her when he knew the truth? The call for blood from candidates hadn't specified she had to be one.
Would she be expected to outline her sexual history? There hadn't been much else to do at the orphanage and more than once she had slept with a man, hoping he would take her away. They never had, but she didn't much care now.
Wava stared at her, awaiting an answer. Found raised her chin. If Alexandru wanted a virgin, he should have said so. "No."
"Good. Then I don't have to explain sex to you. You do know why Sandru wanted a mortal wife, yes?"
Found nodded. It was all explained in the letter asking for a drop of her blood. Vampires ruled the lands, protected them from the dangers of Shifters, witches and demons. In order for Alexandru to one day be Emperor, he needed a human wife to bear him an heir of his own. Found didn't know why. But now that Alexandru had chosen her for his wife, she would give him as many children as her body was able.