Blood Of Kings (Transfusion Book 3)

by Stephanie Hudson

  So I pushed,

  “Answer me. Did I ask you to stop, Lucius?” I asked, this time more forcefully.

  “No,” he growled.

  “And when I cried out, did I do so in pleasure or pain?” I asked, making him turn his face from mine.

  “I don’t…”

  “You remember, Lucius, so answer me,” I interrupted and when he wouldn’t answer me, I once more placed my hand on his cheek and forced him to look at me this time.

  “You know the answer,” I told him again making him drag in a deep breath instead of answering me, so I told him,

  “It looks bad, I know it does, but I am not made of glass, Lucius, despite being human, I am not as breakable as you or your kind would believe.” At this he finally looked up at me and said,

  “It is my job to protect you, not hurt you.” Gods, but my heart ached for this man.

  “You do protect me but more than anything else, you give me what I want and what I need, and right in that moment after I said I loved you… well, Lucius…I needed what you gave me,” I told him fervently before then crushing my lips to his and thankfully not having to wait too long before he took the hint and kissed me back, doing what he did best and dominating it. Then when I realised he still wouldn’t touch my body with nothing more than a gentle hand on my neck, one to hold me to him, I pulled back a little. Something he allowed, now being overly cautious with me. So, I told him on a whisper,

  “So, give me what I need, Lucius.” At this he growled low and instead of doing as I asked, he unfortunately let me go. He quickly turned his back on me and raked an angry hand through his hair, one done out of frustration.

  I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt, especially after the tender moment we just shared.

  “Fuck, Amelia! Why didn’t you stop me! Why didn’t you fucking say anything?!” he shouted in annoyance and I quickly snatched up my towel, ignoring the bite of pain as I did. Then I wrapped it around me, tucked it in at my breasts and without answering him, stomped my way out of the bathroom. Or at least I would have had the door not slammed shut before I had chance to. So, I just folded my arms over my towel covered chest and turned to face him.

  “Open the door,” I demanded but he just mirrored my stance and folded his own arms, making me try really, really hard, to ignore the delicious way his biceps bunched…damn him!

  “No,” he stated firmly.

  “Fine, then do what the fuck you want!” I shouted back before walking over to grab another towel so I could start drying off my dripping hair, ignoring his irritated growls and standing purposely in front of the mirror. This continued for a few minutes before I heard him release a heavy sigh. Then I felt him step up behind me and I finally allowed my eyes to find his as his hands came to rest on the vanity top either side of me. Then he lowered his head to my shoulder so he could confess gently,

  “I’m struggling here.” On hearing this I stopped breathing, holding my breath as I waited for more.

  “I…fuck… all this…us…I am not used to these emotions, Amelia.” Once again it came out as a confession and one that eradicated all my anger before even his last word was uttered.

  “It is beyond my control and…” the moment his sentence trailed off I couldn’t stand it, I had to ask,

  “And…?”

  “I think you get that I like control here, sweetheart,” he said, telling me something, like he said, I already knew.

  “And me?” I braved the question.

  “You are not something I can control, no matter how much I try.”

  “Then stop trying,” I offered, making him laugh once without humor before he kissed my bare shoulder and lifted his head up to pin me with a knowing gaze.

  “That, I am afraid, is not in my nature.”

  “Then where does that leave us?” Again, it was a question that took all my bravery to ask, as I feared the answer.

  “When one of us learns when to submit and the other learns patience for when it doesn’t happen,” he replied and I actually closed my eyes as his words hit me. That’s what he needed, my submission. I decided now was not the time to discuss this and because I didn’t have the answer he wanted, instead I reverted back to my greatest defense…

  Humour.

  “Fine, then I will learn patience as I wait for you to get down to your knees and worship me.” At this I saw the flash of his teeth as he grinned, before swiping away my wet hair and whispering in my ear,

  “I have to say, Pet of mine, I like your idea of submission and look forward to seeing it…soon.”

  “Good, I’ll get you a cushion.” To which he chuckled and kissed his way up my throat making me relax back and let out an involuntary moan. But then this ended in a shriek as I was suddenly swept up in his arms and carried from the room, after he made the door open on its own of course.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I am going to give you what you need,” was his husky toned answer and I sucked in a deep breath having to stop myself from muttering up a thank you to the Gods. But then something in my face must have given away my thoughts as he lay me down gently on the bed before placing a fist either side of me. Then, whilst looking down at me, he said in that annoyingly knowing tone of his,

  “To heal you, Pet, not fuck you.” At this I rolled my eyes at him and tried to squirm out of his space, which he wouldn’t allow. I knew this when one hand came to my neck to still me and his head lowered, all the while holding his body weight up with one arm. It was as if he was doing a one armed press up with his body at an angle seeing as his feet were still on the floor.

  Gods, but just the sight had me near panting and flooded my mind with delicious images of him in his training room. Of course, in this flicker book of sexiness he was always shirtless and holding something heavy enough that it tensed his muscles. Or maybe he was just beating the shit out of a punching bag before coming to me to throw me over his shoulder, his sweaty shoulder. Oh, but there was always the option of him tripping me up and lowering me to the floor and making love to me on the mats like he promised.

  Okay, so I was most definitely starting to see the benefits of letting him train me in his style of fighting, especially if it ended in one of my sexual fantasies.

  Now making me wonder when he was just going to crawl up over me already! But instead of doing as I was screaming at him in my mind to do, he gently ran his nose up along my cheek, the one not bruised, and asked me in that dangerously seductive tone of his,

  “Did you just roll your eyes at me…again?” At this I smirked and lifted my head as much as his hold on my neck would let me. Then I said in a challenging voice,

  “Yeah, I did, so what you gonna do about it…stud?” At this his lips twitched as he fought a grin and told me…

  “Oh sweetheart, you have no fucking idea!”

  Chapter 12

  Tree of Death

  Cold…I was so cold.

  I don’t know what had happened but when I opened my eyes, I found myself outside surrounded by snow and a near crumbling arched wall. I gasped at the sight before me, asking myself had I been sleep walking? By the Gods, but it was one of the most spectacular sights I had ever seen, like stumbling into some winter wonderland that was equal parts exciting as it was disturbing.

  It was that eerie silence that was as if the entire world around you had been put on pause, for not a single thing moved. Nothing that was, but me. It made you feel like an intruder. As if nothing living was welcome here and as stunning as it was, you had to decide if seeing it was worth what it could potentially do to you. The secrets it held. The memories written into the very stone that surrounded it. It was as if the entire garden was an entity of its own and its spirit started to warn you against entering its domain without its master’s permission.

  It was a feeling so strong that it made me wonder if a witch was involved or was it some kind of casting that Lucius himself had someone put in place. Either way, I decided to brave it as the sight of the place
was just too alluring to ignore.

  I started to scan the vast space, starting along the wall that framed this secret winter world. It was one that seemed to be held together by the roots of some fallen tree. Either that, or it was the thickest vine I had ever seen that ran along the top of the wall. A wall that framed a truly incredible space and one you would never expect to find here.

  The garden didn’t hold much in way of design. Nothing more than snow covered hedges that seemed to line the wide walkway in the centre. Something that led to a single dead tree in the middle that was all twisted roots and beaten bark that was nearly as white as the snow that surrounded it. But the difference was the shape, as its base was big enough to actually fit people inside, as it was hollowed out. It also had a sizeable opening facing me and one that looked as if an age ago some beast had ripped it open at the belly and peeled back the edges to create a door.

  Despite its harrowing appearance I found myself drawn to it. And even though it was dead there was a startling beauty about it and I couldn’t help but find myself taking my first steps in its direction.

  So, I walked closer, feeling the cold penetrate my bare feet as though I was stepping on icy shards, something in itself that should have stopped me. But despite this, I still continued on, feeling compelled to do so as if something inside its bare core was calling me to it.

  I walked down the centre walkway, briefly looking to the side and expecting the view of the mountains from the strength of the moon’s light. It was the brightest I think I had ever seen and it lit the whole garden in a midnight bluish glow that made the floor sparkle and glisten. The only sound to be heard was the crunch of snow beneath my own feet, and one I made with each footstep I took.

  It was surprising then that by the time I made it to the tree, the faint sound of laughter could be heard. It was almost as if a ghost had made the sound and I frowned before whispering the only name I could think it belonged to,

  “Mum?” I asked, knowing that I would have recognized her laughter anywhere. It was just so familiar to me that I even found myself running my hand along the bark, as if this action too was also familiar. As if I was actually stepping into history and being led to do this by someone in the past that was trying to pull my presence back there. Could these have been the actions of my own mother, some 30 years ago?

  This thought made me shiver as it was far from a pleasant thought for obvious reasons. The story went that Lucius had kidnapped my mother and held her ransom for something he wanted in return from my father. By this point they had been enemies for a while, since the second world war, so it stood to reason that my father wasn’t Lucius’ biggest fan.

  But once again I knew little of the details as it wasn’t like anyone was telling me anything of the past. I knew this was to shield me in some way but to shield me against what, was another question. But then, looking around my surroundings now, and I felt anything but shielded. For starters, I didn’t even know how I’d gotten here and I looked down at myself to find I was wearing Lucius’ black T shirt and for once my usually tanned skin was deathly white.

  But then my heart froze, and my fingers curled, with my nails scraping against the bare tree. Because this time when I heard the ghost of laughter, it most certainly didn’t belong to my mother. My head whipped one way and then the other as I tried to search out the cause, my loose hair fanning to the sides and looking even darker than usual.

  Then I heard it,

  “You don’t have his love.” I frowned and narrowed my eyes as I tried to find the person that would dare question how Lucius felt about me. The whole garden was vast in its size and went far beyond the tree, with what looked like a thickly dense woodland at its end. I knew then that the voice had come from that direction and I looked back over my shoulder at where I knew was the safety of the castle.

  “You don’t believe me…come…see…for…yourself.” The voice spoke again, in a taunting way that had my teeth on edge. I wanted to discover who it was, I really did, but then something inside me was screaming in my mind that it would have been a mistake. That it was what they wanted, and they were using my fears against me. So, I pushed away from the tree and instead of being fooled into going nearer to the forest, I stepped away from it. I turned back towards where I knew I could gain access back inside but after one footstep the next voice I heard was directly behind me, making me silently scream,

  “The silent garden wants your blood…and it will take it!” This last part was hissed at the same time I felt a painful hand take hold of my shoulder and turn me suddenly. I was whipped around with force giving me no other choice but to face my stalker in the night. A blood red cloaked figure stood looking down at me with a hood framing nothing but ominous darkness. Then two white eyes started to glow, and I opened my mouth to scream but yet again, the sound was stolen from me.

  “This place will feed from your screams young one, and the tree of death will feed from the blood of Kings…once it has been found.” A voice spoke from within the darkness of the hood and I shivered in the spirit’s grasp. Then it raised a rotted hand, one made of nothing but chipped and hacked bloody bone, barely buried beneath burnt flesh. Blunt, bloody fingertips void of nails, gruesomely looking as if the tips had been chopped off. I thought the sight a sickening one but as it pointed towards the tree I screamed again with no luck of a soul hearing it, for the spirit had been right.

  The garden had stolen my scream.

  A scream that should have disturbed all life around me had there been any, as the horror that faced me was worthy of the reaction. For the tree had been transformed and mutated into the stuff of nightmares! Gone was the alluring tree of stark beauty, now being replaced by one of death as it was covered in so many dead bodies it was hard to make out where one began and another ended. Pieces of people all wrapped around it and held in place by thorns of the likes I had never known. Its spikes were impossibly big, like daggers that had managed to pierce right through even the thickness of thighs, pinning them to the wood in a bloody mess. The whole tree was covered in blood as it seemed to pour down from the branches, overflowing over the bodies and pieces of people, I thankfully couldn’t make out.

  It was the most grotesque sight I had ever seen in all my life and I fell backwards, ripping myself from the hold of its bearer, the one who wanted me to witness this nightmare. Then, just as I started to fall in a slow motion, doing so now as if time had slowed right down, the person spoke one last time,

  “The blood of Kings must be spilled…

  “Soul bearer.”

  Chapter 13

  Finger of Punishment

  I woke with a start, but I wasn’t screaming like I thought I should be. No, instead I just had my mouth open as if I had wanted to do it, but my voice had been robbed from me. A sight that I could imagine was nothing short of creepy. Especially when finding me suddenly awake with my eyes opened wide with fright and my mouth open agape, screaming with not a sound penetrating the air. Well, it was no wonder I was just glad a certain someone hadn’t woken up and seen it.

  And speaking of that certain someone…

  Lucius was still asleep next to me with an arm still curled around my waist and a hand curled possessively at my hip. I had to say that the sight and feel of it there certainly helped to make me feel safe, which was why I sucked in a deep breath before releasing it again.

  It had been nothing but a dream. Just a stupid dream that’s all and one most likely as a result from the night I’d been through. But I knew instantly it was one that would rid me of sleep for the rest of the night and I looked to the window to see that it wasn’t yet near to morning. So, instead of disturbing Lucius with my fidgeting, I decided to get up and use the bathroom. Besides, I could imagine that after the night Lucius had also had, then he could most definitely do with the sleep.

  So, ever so gently I lifted his arm, knowing I had a chance to escape when it felt like a dead weight in my hands. Then I shifted from under it before placing it back down o
n the bed as gently as I could. After this I grabbed the first thing I could feel and put it on, before quietly tiptoeing to the bathroom, only putting on the light after I was inside, and the door was closed.

  Once inside I used the toilet at the far end as it was tucked away behind a wall. Then I started thinking back on what had happened before Lucius had exhausted me enough for me to basically pass out on him. As it turned out, Lucius’ punishment wasn’t a spanking to my ass, as was per his usual threat. No, this naturally was because I wasn’t yet healed. Something that was established earlier as being a definite sore spot for him. So instead, he decided a more fitting punishment for me was more of the prolonged suffering kind…sexually speaking.

  Now it has to be said this wasn’t fun for me, that was until he finally allowed it to be very fun for me. Something that started with him sitting upright in the bed and the second I also sat up to give him space, he snagged me under the arms before dragging me up to him. This ended with my back being held to his chest and sat in between his legs with us both now facing the window. This was also when I started to squirm.

  His answer to this was by way of banding an arm across my chest as his other hand collared my throat. I sucked in a quick breath and this time, it wasn’t in fear or trepidation, it was pure lust. It was such a dominant hold that it had me swallowing hard, something he could feel sliding down his palm.

  “Ssshh, my captured little bird, it’s time for me to play with you,” he whispered seductively, making me actually feel like some erotic pet of his. Then, in one swift action, my towel was gone and a girly shriek followed. And well, if I thought I was squirming before, then now I was really moving, something that seemed to amuse him greatly. But I also noticed with the way he held me, that he was avoiding hurting me further by staying clear of my bruises, which was why when I didn’t still, he whispered,

  “Be still, or you will hurt yourself.” I did as I was told, because he was right, I needed to stop twisting and force myself to relax. After he was assured that I wasn’t going to move again, his arm over my chest relaxed too before his gloved hand went exploring. The feel of leather clad fingers caressing gently over my skin felt amazing and soon had my head falling back against his shoulder. I knew he was looking down the length of me and with his head angled to one side, that obviously gave him the best view, he muttered,