Rebel Bitten (Blood Alliance Book 4)

by Lexi C. Foss

  Potent didn’t even begin to describe the male coming to a stop just outside my cage door. He oozed power and sex. Domination. Superiority. Arrogance.

  I nearly suffocated on his presence, his hypnotic gaze holding me captive before him.

  My vampire professors had nothing on him. They could command a room, but this male seemed like he could command an entire army with a single look.

  “Where did you learn how to do that?” he asked, his voice so deep and sensual that it scattered goose bumps down my arms.

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Th-the university.” My palms clamped tightly around the bars as my knees threatened to buckle beneath his penetrating stare, his irises roaming over every inch of me.

  “You took warrior classes?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Why?” His midnight eyes met mine once more. “What was your goal?”

  My heart went from stuttering to racing in my chest, answers populating my mind before I could think them through. “I wanted to be a Vigil.” Although, I couldn’t quite remember why at the moment. So foggy. So strange.

  What silver glimmer had I caught in the dark? I wondered then, glancing over his T-shirt and jeans, only to spy a watch on his right wrist. That. How had I missed that?

  “And they sent you to the breeding farm instead,” he replied, his sinful gaze dropping to my chest before lowering to the apex between my thighs.

  A shiver skittered down my spine.

  I’d stood naked in front of countless supernaturals before—humans, too—but something about this vampire had my nerves climbing into my throat.

  “I think you would have served better in a harem,” he mused. “But your genetics must have marked you for breeding.”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer that, so I said nothing.

  He continued to study me as if I were a present, appreciation evident in his gaze.

  “How did I get here?” I blurted out, then immediately froze as his eyes snapped up to mine.

  “You don’t remember?”

  “N-no,” I admitted.

  “Fascinating.” He tilted his head in an eerie manner, another wave of intrigue overtaking his features. “I suppose you did imbibe a lot of my essence.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “I what?”

  “My blood, pet. You drank my blood.”

  “Why?”

  “To live,” he answered as if that explained everything. “Your memories will return shortly. I suspect nightmares will accompany them.”

  He spoke the words nonchalantly, which only seemed to heighten the chill sweeping over me.

  I don’t want to remember.

  But I did want to know a few things. Such as… “Who are you?” I realized the faux pas of my question the moment his eyes widened.

  A series of edicts from my life began to chant through my mind, some course I took as a child ingrained forever in my head, even beneath my apparent memory loss.

  Humans do not address their superiors.

  Humans do not look at their superiors.

  Humans do not engage their superiors.

  Humans bow to their superiors.

  Humans are here to please their superiors.

  Humans are food.

  Humans are meant for pleasure at the hands of their superiors.

  Humans do not—

  “I thought society broke humans of the penchant for speaking out of turn,” the vampire mused, dragging me out of my inner chant.

  I needed to apologize, to beg forgiveness, to bow at his feet. And yet, my body refused to do all those things, as if I were being held up by invisible puppet strings that forced me to disobey.

  Some part of me was fundamentally broken.

  I’d given up on the idea of perfect acquiescence. I no longer wished to be an obedient human. But I couldn’t figure out when or how that had happened, the deciding memory a loose strand in my mind without a proper end.

  However, defiance felt right.

  Powerful.

  Freeing.

  “I’m Ryder,” he murmured after several long beats of silence. He didn’t so much sound displeased as he did amused. “As to your earlier inquiry about how you got here—you stumbled onto my property and attacked me and my lieutenant. Well, I suppose he’s a sovereign now.”

  “Your sovereign?” I repeated, the title meaning something deadly inside my brain. Only royal vampires have sovereigns.

  “Yes. A recent change that occurred while you napped on the floor.” He lifted a shoulder. “I needed someone I could rely on to handle a few affairs down in San José, and he’s the only one I could trust.”

  “San José?” I felt like a parrot repeating words, but this location was one I didn’t recognize. Where am I? I wondered, not for the first time since waking up. However, now I no longer wanted to know so much as needed to know.

  “Ah, yes, you wouldn’t know it, would you?” He sighed, the sound distinctly underlined in annoyance. “I’ve never enjoyed the whole region renaming, but I suppose I’ll need to remove the current title, won’t I? Can’t have the vampires of this region thinking Silvano is still in charge since Kylan killed him and all.”

  Kylan.

  Silvano.

  Two vampire royals.

  And if Kylan killed Silvano, that meant there’d been a change in the regime. And if this male was talking about sovereigns and renaming regions… then… “You’re a royal vampire,” I breathed. Which I’d already deduced a few minutes ago, only his name hadn’t registered as familiar, so the full thought hadn’t connected.

  Until now.

  “Apparently,” he muttered. “It’s not a job I ever desired to obtain, but here we are.” His gaze returned to mine, a calculating gleam radiating from his depths. “Which means, sweet pet, that I need to decide what to do with you.”

  I shivered, the bars at my back suddenly colder than before.

  Twenty-two years of training just to become a breeding doll. And now this.

  No, thanks.

  I was done with this bullshit life. If he didn’t kill me outright, then I’d just have to fight—

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  Am I hungry? Is that some sort of vampire joke?

  Rather than reply, I just stared at him.

  He studied me back in kind, his inquisitive gaze unnerving. It was the kind of look a monster gave his food before playing with it.

  “You’re still hopped up on my blood, so perhaps you don’t feel it yet. But with all that physical activity, in addition to healing several fatal wounds over the last three days, you should be famished.” He slid his hand into his pocket to pull out a key. “So how about we discuss your fate over a meal?”

  This had to be a trick.

  Some cruel game.

  What royal vampire asked to dine with his food unless he intended to make her the meal?

  The door clinked as he swung it open. “Come, pet. Let’s find you something to eat.” He turned as if he didn’t have a care in the world, which, I supposed, he didn’t. I was a human. A mortal. The bottom of the food chain in his eyes.

  But what he misunderstood was the fact that I had nothing to lose.

  If he didn’t plan to return me to that breeding prison, then he intended to dine on my blood. Neither option appealed to me.

  However, I wasn’t going to turn down his invitation to leave my cell. I just had no intention of following him to the dining room.

  The cement floor was cold beneath my feet as I trailed after him, my eyes scanning for anything I could use to incapacitate him. It all depended on my ability to catch him off guard, which wouldn’t be hard since he’d given me his back.

  He thought I was a meek little human.

  A broken doll to fuck with.

  Oh, he couldn’t be more wrong.

  I was fueled by hate and vengeance. A will to kill. To slaughter. To survive. I would take him down and escape, or die trying.

  Ther
e, my brain supplied as we turned a corner toward a staircase. Just along the wall before it was a table littered with various tools, the metal glimmering enticingly in the low light.

  Take me.

  Use me.

  Hurt him.

  That was what those items told me. I grabbed one as we passed, my fingers wrapping around the wooden handle that led to a blunt top. A hammer. Perfect.

  I raised the item in the air, angled it right for his head, and swung downward.

  Only to have him spin around in a flash, his hand catching my wrist and halting my movement midway. His opposite hand snagged my hip, forcing me to turn with him as he slammed me up against the wall across from the table.

  “Drop it.” Two words uttered like a command one might give a dog.

  I didn’t have a choice, his strength superior to mine in every way. I released the hammer, and it fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

  “Good girl,” he said, pressing me into the wall with his thighs against mine. He released my wrist and grabbed my throat, giving it a squeeze. “Hmm, tell me your name.” His irises captured and held mine, daring me to lie to him.

  I knew better than to try.

  Mortal identities were all meticulously cataloged, and I’d undergone countless classifications at the university, each one requiring blood donations and fingerprinting for identification purposes.

  “Seven hundred and one of year one hundred and seventeen,” I replied formally, my hands lying limply at my sides. During my university days, the term prospect would have been added to the beginning. But I was no longer a prospect. I was assigned.

  He blinked at me. “I asked for a name, not a bunch of fucking numbers. What do people call you?”

  “Seven hundred and one of year—”

  His palm tightened around my throat, restricting my airway and effectively silencing my voice. “No. What did the other humans call you at the university?” He didn’t release me, his gaze narrowing. “If you give me another damn number, I may not allow you to breathe again. Nod so I know you understand.”

  I tried to swallow but couldn’t, his grip so tight I was starting to see spots.

  So I bobbed my head, hoping that would convince him to release my throat.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he said, “Mouth a name for me.”

  Tears stung my eyes, my inner fight battling the urge to just succumb to his strangulation. I was so conflicted that I couldn’t even seem to lift my hands to claw at his grip. It wouldn’t change anything. He’d just hold on, perhaps even tighten his grasp and snap my neck.

  Wouldn’t it be so much easier if I just ceased to exist? But then I would have fought all these years for nothing.

  Which was exactly how I felt when they put me in that breeding camp.

  Yet my abhorrence still felt fuzzy, as if it had all been from a nightmare, not reality. However, I knew the world didn’t work that way. Everything was real. Including the hand squeezing my throat, threatening to kill me if I didn’t give this royal vampire a name.

  How incredibly bizarre. Names were for supernaturals, not humans.

  That wasn’t to say I didn’t have a secret one.

  Because I did.

  I just wasn’t supposed to go by anything other than my number.

  My university roommate, Rae, had given me the nickname over a decade ago, telling me we needed a way to communicate. It served as a defiance. I couldn’t remember now why that was important, the memory fading before I could grasp it. That disappointed me because somehow I knew that was a day I didn’t want to forget.

  “Are you flirting with death, sweetheart?” Ryder asked me, his eyebrow arching.

  His dark eyes held a note of amusement in them that didn’t match the threat of his hand around my throat. Perhaps this entertained him—my weakness and impending death. Typical vampire.

  It made me want to defy him, not by withholding my name but by giving one, to show him I’d been living in a world of defiance for years. That his oppression meant shit to me. That I would overcome this, even if it required my death.

  “Willow,” I mouthed at him, the lack of air making it impossible to add sound.

  His gaze dropped to my lips. “Say that again.”

  “Willow,” I repeated, then gasped violently as he loosened his grip on my throat.

  “One more time,” he demanded.

  “Willow.” It came out on a rasp, my lungs burning as much-needed oxygen poured down my abused airway.

  “Willow,” he said as if tasting the name. “Yes, I like that.”

  He drew his thumb across the pulse point of my neck, his body solid and hard against mine.

  “What will I do with you?” he mused, his gaze dropping to where my breasts met his chest. His pupils flared, as did his nostrils as he inhaled my scent.

  I swallowed, my throat raw. It had seemed like a rhetorical question, so I remained silent while he considered me.

  “You intrigue me, pet,” he finally said after a beat. “I suggest you continue to do so. It’s the only reason you’re still alive.” His dark eyes met mine once more, holding for a long second. Then he took a slow step backward, his hands falling to his sides.

  I didn’t know what to say. How to react. Where to even look. So I just continued to stare into his fathomless eyes, those dark, hypnotic orbs giving nothing away.

  Age and experience poured off him in waves.

  This vampire was old.

  Lethal.

  A royal.

  And he claimed that I intrigued him.

  What the hell was I supposed to do with that information?

  He didn’t break my stare, his lips curling into a cruel grin. “Try to attack me again and you won’t enjoy the consequences.”

  With a final look that promised punishment should I disobey, he turned for the stairs once more.

  “Come, little Willow,” he called back to me when I didn’t immediately follow. “And leave the hammer. I have much more efficient weapons upstairs.”

  I gaped after him. Was that a threat or an invitation?

  Only one way to find out…

  4

  Ryder

  A hammer. My lips twitched. Not the most inventive solution. However, it was nice to know that my new pet had a fighting spirit. We’d explore more of that side of her later.

  Her footsteps were quiet behind me. Hesitant.

  She probably thought I intended to bite her.

  A fair expectation, one I would absolutely be taking her up on at some point, but not today. She was only recently recovered, and I wanted to ensure she had her strength before we truly played.

  I led her to the kitchen, then pointed to a pair of stools framing my kitchen island. “Sit.”

  She didn’t argue, just slid up onto the leather seat and folded her arms across her bare stomach. Nudity didn’t seem to bother her at all, something I suspected was a result of her upbringing.

  A gentleman would probably offer her a shirt.

  As I skipped etiquette school, I didn’t see the point. If she wanted to prance around my house naked, I wasn’t about to stop her. Plus, she had nice tits, which I could see now over the island.

  Beautiful sight.

  She could sit there all day like that, and I’d be a very happy man.

  Besides, it’d been a while since I entertained a woman in my home. Let alone one as stunning as Willow. It shocked the hell out of me that society had wasted her looks on the breeding camp. She had “harem” written all over her with those long legs and fuck-me eyes.

  But I imagined many humans were built like her nowadays with all the specialized breeding Lilith had put into place.

  So robotic and boring. Although, I supposed it was efficient. They created Willow, and for that, I could be temporarily pleased with the system.

  I went to my fridge to find some bread, deli meat, and cheese. With Damien’s recent visit, I had some fresh groceries from Silvano Region. He lived just inside the near
est city, making him a decent connection to current society when I wanted an indulgence.

  While I had pretty much everything I needed in storage, I sometimes craved something a little different. And Damien knew my appetite well.

  Willow watched while I assembled two sandwiches—one for her, one for me. Her eyes grew round as I moved, her shock coming to a head as I slid a plate across the island to her.

  “You don’t like turkey?” I guessed.

  “Wh-what?” She shook herself. “I… I mean, I think, yes.” She frowned at the food as if it were foreign to her.

  “Do they not give you sandwiches at the university?” I wondered out loud, unclear of what was customary for the human diet these days.

  “Um, no,” she said, lifting the bread to examine the contents.

  I picked up my sandwich and took a bite while she watched. Then I asked, “What do they feed you?”

  “Vegetables. Protein.” She set the bread back on top, then picked up the food like I did, and brought it to her nose for a sniff test.

  I smirked. “Worried?”

  “N-no,” she stammered softly before taking a nibble out of the crust. Her brow furrowed while she chewed. “What nutrient is this?”

  “Bread.”

  “Bread,” she repeated. “Like a carb?”

  “Yup.” I enjoyed another mouthful of my creation while she set hers down on the plate.

  “We’re not allowed to eat carbs,” she said, confusion evident in her voice. “They’re not nutritional for our body chemistry.”

  I just stared at her. “Seriously? You’re going to argue with me over a sandwich?”

  “I, no, I’m just… I don’t understand. Is this a test?”

  “Yes,” I drawled. “It’s a test of my patience. Now eat the fucking sandwich, Willow.” “Not nutritional for our body chemistry”? What kind of bullshit is that?

  No wonder she was so thin. Society had fucking starved her.

  She tentatively ate another bite, her eyes on me the whole time as if she were afraid I might punish her for disobeying.

  Where the hell did my fighter go? I preferred the chick with the hammer, not this breakable little doe. Had I choked it out of her? Because that would be disappointing.

  Her nose scrunched as she continued to eat, her distaste showing.