by Hall, K R
He stopped near the foot of the bed and eased her from his arms and onto her feet. Her hip grazed the hard ridge of his cock under his zipper and she gasped. Victor grinned, pressing into her soft flesh. He still held her by her arms as if he was afraid she would bolt at any moment. Which was precisely what Alana thought she should do. She put her hands against the hard planes of his chest and pushed. He didn’t move.
Before Alana could think, his mouth was on hers and she didn’t care about anything anymore. Victor devoured her mouth, his tongue thrusting in and out, tasting and sharing. And she tasted him— Victor’s spicy heat. When he retreated, she followed him like an obedient slave. He sucked her tongue deep into his mouth, scraping his teeth against the tender surface before breaking off the kiss.
Her kiss was inexperienced and hesitant and it made him want her more. He knew he had to go slow with her and not scare her away. Victor loved Alana’s innocence. Hell, he loved everything about her, even if he had just met her a few minutes ago.
“You taste so sweet, dragă,” Victor said.
Ravish. Take. Mate. Victor’s inner beast chanted.
Victor’s beast snarled as he forced it back. He worked to get the strigoi back under his control. He finally regained dominance over his inner beast.
Must please mate, his strigoi panted in his head.
Too soon, Victor said to his strigoi.
“What does dragă mean?” Alana asked softly.
“Dragă means ‘sweetheart’ in Romanian,” Victor replied.
“I scared you when I kissed you, didn’t I?” Victor asked.
“I wouldn’t say that. More like confused me,” Alana said, not looking at him. “Why did you kiss me?”
“Do you not know?” Victor asked.
“Before I decide if I want to stay here or return home and break the agreement the town has had with you, I would like to hear the reason,” Alana said, still not looking at him.
“I kissed you because you are my mate.” Good Lord…this wasn’t how he imagined talking to his mate about this. He wanted to be suave about it, sweep her off her feet.
“Okay, I will stay, but I don’t know if anything will happen,” Alana said, blushing.
“I don’t need for anything to happen between us, Alana. I just want to be near you,” Victor said. He didn’t want Alana to think he was trying to sleep with her. He was willing to go at her pace. Their relationship was all in Alana’s hands.
“Okay,” Alana whispered.
They didn’t say another word to each other as they walked from his bedroom to join the others in the ballroom.
“You’re a wonderful woman, Alana. I am honored to be your mate,” Victor began. “We will take this relationship at your pace. Is there anything you would like to know?”
Alana nodded, appreciating his respect. “Have you killed before? I don’t mean during the wars.”
“Yes,” Victor answered honestly.
“How did it feel?” she asked.
“Bad. Life is so precious but, at the time, killing was necessary. I’ve killed to save myself and others. It’s not an excuse and doesn’t erase the way it made me feel. I have struggled with knowing the person I killed was someone’s love, someone’s son or husband, father. It’s a tough thing to live with,” Victor explained.
“Thank you, Victor,” Alana said.
“If you want me, nothing and no one will take you from me,” Victor whispered.
Alana smiled shyly and asked, “What is it like being strigoi? Is it like in fairytales?”
Victor explained to Alana that the limitations of strigoi were fables put about by their own kind. They were no more afraid of garlic and crucifixes than cupcakes with extra frosting. They were particularly proud of the wooden stake rumors since they made excellent kindling for the fires. Drinking blood straight from a human was all so last century, there was nothing better for them than a bag of blood.
Alana giggled at the explanation as they entered the ballroom again.
~ ~ ~
With the dessert behind them, the chatter in the room rose and fell, wine glasses filled and emptied until all too soon, it was time for the guests to make their way home. After Alana said good-bye to her family, hugging everyone by the car, she made her way back into Victor’s home.
“Welcome to your new home, Alana,” Victor said as he opened the door to her suite of rooms. He carried her luggage into the suite. “Where would you like these?”
“Oh, on the bed please,” Alana said softly. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” Victor said.
After Victor left, Alana walked around her rooms. She noticed that someone had brought her boxes up to the suite earlier. Alana had never felt more alone. She hadn’t known what to expect when Victor showed her to her rooms. Alana unpacked her three boxes and two bags slowly, looking around the rooms and deciding where to put everything. She didn’t want to turn in early, so she took her time unpacking. The bed was queen size, much bigger than the twin she had as she grew up.
Alana knew Victor’s room was close, just across the hall. She cursed the tears that were threatening to fall down her face and headed to her private bathroom. She would take a shower, go to bed, and sleep through her sudden loneliness. After her shower, she dried off and put on her sensible nightgown. She turned off the bedroom lights and crawled into her new bed. Soon, fresh tears were flowing down her face.
Victor paused outside of Alana’s bedroom door and listened to her crying. He could tell that she was doing her best not to let him hear. Strigoi have excellent hearing.
Knock on the door, his inner strigoi demanded. Find out what’s wrong with her, make sure she is alright.
But Victor didn’t want to disturb her; he had a feeling that she was missing her family. He knew it would take time for her to adjust to her new living arrangements.
I think you are wrong; I don’t think she is missing her family. I think she is missing her mate.
“Alana isn’t paranormal. She knows nothing about mating,” Victor whispered aloud to his beast.
It’s instinct. She may not understand it, but she is feeling it.
With a shake of his head, Victor knocked softly on Alana’s door. “Alana?”
When she didn’t answer, but he heard her moving around, he opened the door and peeked inside. Alana was sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Alana, are you alright?”
“Yes.”
Her voice was so strangled that he couldn’t stop himself from crossing the floor and walking to the bed to face her. Alana turned her face away from Victor and quickly wiped her tears away. Victor knelt beside her and took her hands into his own.
“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Victor whispered. “Do you want to go home?”
“No. No, I don’t want to go home,” Alana said, her eyes quickly finding Victor’s.
There was such conviction in her voice that he had to agree with his beast that she didn’t want to leave them and that it may be the mating bond causing her to be upset.
“Then what is it?” Victor asked.
Ask her if she wants to sleep in our room tonight. Victor was about to argue with his beast. Just trust me on this.
“Do you… would you want to… what I’m trying… to ask is… would you like to come and sleep with me? In my bed, I mean… Would you like to sleep in my bed with me tonight?” Victor asked.
He had never asked a woman to share his bed before. He couldn’t believe how difficult it was to ask Alana.
That’s because she is our mate.
Victor could see her eyes light up even though she was cautious.
“Are you sure?” Alana asked in a soft voice.
“We won’t do anything but sleep,” Victor said.
Alana nodded. Victor rose and held his hand out to her and had to admit that a tightness in his chest eased when her small hand fit into his. Apparently, he was stressing over having her being away from him, too. When she stood up, Vic
tor noticed her simple nightgown. He never realized that something could be cute and sexy as hell at the same time until he saw her stand. She must have noticed his stare because she quickly picked up the robe lying across the end of her bed and put it on.
They walked hand in hand into his bedroom.
Laying in bed beside his mate, Victor remembered the day when Alana was born. He heard a turtledove for the first time. He performed the ritual to remove the curses, making way for his true mate to be discovered. He stopped moving, turned around three times, removed his left shoe, and in it, he found a blonde hair. Victor took the hair and combined it with some of his own and placed it in a velvet pouch. To wear as close to his heart as possible, Victor tied it to his chest with a silk ribbon. He had been wearing it non-stop for twenty years.
Now that he had his mate, he would not lose her. Victor felt the need to redeem himself to be worthy of love. He would not dishonor his mate. As soon as possible, Victor needed to find someone to guide him toward his redemption. Only after he had his redemption could Victor mate and wed Alana without any reservations. Victor vowed not to tarnish their future.
Chapter 3
Present day
As the days waned, the nights closed in and the trees donned their vibrant hues, a chill crept into the air. Not the bite of wintry blusters, but just a nip to let the residents of Carver know a new season was at hand. Autumn had begun to creep over New England, promising to transform the landscape into the backdrop that Alana so loved.
Alana was enchanted by her surroundings, a true daughter of nature. She possessed knowledge about nature and appreciated its beauty. She came alive when nature enveloped her.
A damp, dull September morning was dawning. The wide walkways around Victor’s manor were lit by the first rays of the day, shining through a thin layer of gray cloud like a stained-glass window. No more were the trees their vibrant hues of spring and summer but instead became scarlets and gold. In just a few weeks, the tree branches would stand naked in the frozen air, bereft of their happiness. Already, the usual gray of the concrete sidewalk was adorned with their transient beauty. As Alana looked out her bedroom window, she watched as a leaf tumbled from its weary branch, it twisted and rocked as it fell through the almost still air.
For the first time in her life, she found herself alone. Her mother wasn’t there to soothe her fears, nor was her dad to tell her stories. It was just her, lonesome in a strange place with strange people. There were faces and busybodies, but no one was familiar. Some were kindly, most were harried, rushing around getting their work done. A few of the staff saw her as she walked out of the house, they skirted out of her way, and soon she was outside.
Alana took a stroll through Victor’s gardens, arriving at the foot of the slope by the pond where no one could see her. The gardens were all laid out into lovely lawns and flower gardens with pebble paths leading through them and groves of beautiful and stately trees dotting the landscape here and there. Alana had expected to see the highly colored Japanese Koi Carp, and she wasn’t disappointed. If anything, she was impressed. They were massive and numerous, each about as long as her arm. Alana gazed across the wind-ruffled surface to the lily pads in bloom, their white petals catching the breeze. She inhaled slowly. Peace. Her little piece of heaven.
Alana took her diary and a pen out of her bag. She would only write in it when she was sure to be alone.
Well, diary, I’ve been here for a month now. Victor says that I’m his mate. I’m not sure how I feel about that. It’s both exciting and terrifying at the same time. I want to continue to live here and be with Victor, but what if he changes his mind? Maybe I need to learn more about mating.
Everything has changed so fast. It was so sudden to move here on my birthday. I knew it would happen. I had been taught and trained my whole life to fulfill my destiny. Victor isn’t some man in a photo anymore. He’s a living being. He is like this whole other person that I must get to know now.
I miss Millie, Elmer, and Jasper and, of course, my parents. We were incredibly close growing up, always together. I miss laying in the backyard and looking up at the clouds trying to see shapes. During August, they visited every weekend. Now, though, Elmer is off to college, Jasper is in high school, and Millie is in middle school. They haven’t had time to visit. I hope to see them in October for the Halloween Ball Victor said we could host. I will visit my family for Thanksgiving. Victor insists that Christmas be at his home. He keeps telling me that it’s mine, too, but it’s difficult to think of it as mine. Everywhere I look outside of my bedroom is nothing that says, “Alana is here.” Maybe Victor will allow me to add some personal touches to the rooms to help it feel more like my home.
Well, diary, my stomach is growling so I shall close for now and head back to the house for lunch.
Alana put her diary and pen back into her bag and, rising, took a moment to brush her jeans of any dirt she might have picked up from sitting on the ground then headed back to Victor’s home. Yes, she needed to talk to Victor about making his home feel more like she was a part of it.
~ ~ ~
From the cover of the trees came a form. A Keshalyi. For two hundred years, she had Victor to herself. Victor was her man. Chloe didn’t believe in mates. It was a faerie tale told to children before they went to bed.
Chloe’s eyes were glued to Alana as she headed inside. Chloe often watched Alana, but Alana had yet to notice. Why Victor wanted Alana with all her frumpiness when he could have her frustrated Chloe. She was waiting for the moment to be right to put her plan into action. She wanted some accident to happen to Alana, nothing terrible, just enough to make her leave Victor.
~ ~ ~
Victor was pacing in his bedroom. Redemption. Forgiveness. Was there a way Victor could make up for the horrible mistakes he had made? Was there a way he could become someone better? How in the world had a human been chosen as his mate?
Victor had taken part in the infamous Boston Tea Party. He helped sink ships in both World War I and II. Victor fought in the Battle of Lexington and the Battle of Concord. Many soldiers lived and others died due to his actions. Prior to and during the Civil War, Victor helped slaves move north.
Those were good and honorable things. They were not the reason Victor felt he needed redemption and forgiveness. Victor had no way of knowing that when he came to the New World, he would bring the plague with him. Being a strigoi, Victor couldn’t catch the plague, but he could carry the disease and infect others. He almost completely wiped out the settlers in each village he traveled through from Boston Harbor to the town of Carver. The approaching winter halted the spread of the disease as the weather took its toll on the rats and fleas. Victor had burned his clothing and anything that had fabric in a huge bonfire to rid himself of being a carrier.
There was hope before. Victor’s shaky fingers finally came to a stop after running restlessly through his messy hair. Falling apart is not going to help, it’s not going to change anything. Remorseful. Guilty. That was how Victor felt at that very moment. He wished for a time machine so he could go back, rectify the mistake— the worst of all he had done.
However, he could not. Impossible. Victor had to live with it. Remorse clawed at his heart. Guilt gnawed like a worm at the core of an apple. A tear trickled down his cheek; memories flooded his mind as despair crept over him.
As the full realization and the consequences of his prior mistakes finally sank in, the pit of his stomach stirred and he collapsed to the ground. From out of the very depths of his being flowed all his emotion and, as the groaning flew past his lips, it became a wail reaching out for redemption.
The pain that once burned like a fire had faded away to an icy numbness. Black filled the edges of Victor’s vision and the only thing he could hear was his heartbeat. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. Seconds passed as Victor lay there; then, he heard voices. People swarmed all over him, trying to help him, Victor realized. They wanted to save him.
“Nico
lae, please help me to my bed,” Victor grunted. “No one is to tell Alana about this.”
“As you wish,” Nicolae replied. Nicolae was more than Victor’s valet; he was a friend and had been with Victor for the last four hundred years due to Victor granting Nicolae’s wish to serve him for eternity.
~ ~ ~
Later that day, Victor looked up from his reading and saw Alana enter the library and cleaned off a spot on the couch next to him. He glanced at the newly cleaned place then patted it. Being in Victor’s home was what her whole childhood was about, but Alana’s heart still pounded its usual rhythm, she wasn’t scared. Her whole life had been preparing her for this time in her life. Sitting next to him, his aroma was heady, it wasn’t like decaying flesh, but, instead, a summer garden as if he lay in a bed of petals each night.
“Since ancient times, the seventh son has been said to possess great magic. They are in tune with nature, animals, and all living things. When I was six years old, my father and my grandfather sat me down at our dining room table. I thought I was in trouble, but they talked about something else. There was a family curse. In each generation, one person was born with it. There was nothing you could do to remove it or get rid of it. It just was. My father had the curse. My grandfather had it, as did his father before that. And now, I was the one born with the family curse,” Victor said.
“What was the curse?” Alana asked curiously.
“The curse was described as the ability to do things that other people couldn’t. For some in the lineage, it meant being able to predict death or imminent tragedy. For others, it meant being able to change into different animals and even turn invisible. My father described how his ‘curse’ had manifested itself in him. He had enhanced strength, sight, and hearing.
“The curse was, ‘You can do things other people can’t do,’” Victor said.
“And that was that?” Alana asked. “No explanation went along with it or any description of what to expect, what to do with it, or how to handle it?”