by C. D. Gorri
I narrow my eyes at her, convinced that she's not telling me everything, but for now I'll let it go. Dragan is the one who needs to answer my questions when he returns.
“So, you and him?” She gives me a sly grin. “Dragan always said he didn't believe in fated mates, and yet here you are.”
“Fated what?”
Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back. “Forget I said anything. It’s not my place. Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?”
Reluctantly, I let her lead me into the bathroom where she opens the bag she's been carrying with her and starts to pull out all sorts of bottles of potions and lotions. In the shifter village, we use very plain things. Our soap is made from boiled-down goats’ milk, and it stinks to me. Whenever we had the odd foray into the human towns or villages, I always bought myself a small bar of scented soap. Most wolves can't stand that kind of thing because they find it overpowering, but because I can't actually change form, my sense of scent isn't quite as strong as theirs.
“So, what sort of smells do you like best?”
I stare at my helper and think. “I don't know. It's not something I've ever really pondered. I suppose I quite like roses.”
“Okay, rose is good. Roses are quite... innocent, though, aren't they? I feel maybe we should go for roses but mixed with something else. Something heady, and a little musky maybe. Give me a moment.”
She opens her bottles and starts to inhale the contents one at a time, smelling them, and making hmmm and ahhhh noises. Some of them are large and filled with a creamy colored lotion, whereas others are tiny and filled with oils. With a smile, Melissa starts to mix things, pouring tiny drops of oil into the cream, mixing them together and adding lotion from another bottle, and then another. Wonderful scents suffuse the air, and I take a deep breath in.
“Ah,” she says happily. “This reminds me of the smells of my childhood home. Before I got turned, my father was a diplomat, and we lived in Morocco. We could be in the souk right now. Okay, try this.”
She waves the bottle with the creamy lotion under my nose, and I take a breath. Oh, wow. It's stunning. I can smell roses, another floral scent and something really sexy and dark almost.
“Are you a trained perfumier?” I ask her.
“It's one of my talents, yes.”
I dread to think what her others might be.
Blithely unaware of my thoughts, she grins at me. “If you wish, you can get into the shower and use this as a lotion to wash all that awful mud from you. While you’re doing so, I will mix up some body moisturizer to match. I have some clean clothes with me too, and we can try those to see what suits you.”
She pulls piles of well-folded material out of the bag and marches into the bedroom placing it carefully on the bed.
I stare at the huge, square shower head, and the complicated dials below it, and realize I don't know how to use this shower. I feel stupid, but we don't have such things where I come from.
My helper comes back into the room. “Do you wish me to turn the shower on for you?”
“Yes, please, but don't make it too hot.” I cover up my ignorance by pretending I'm letting her wait on me.
She turns the dials this way and that and keeps sticking her hand under the water until satisfied. She turns to me with a smile.
“It is ready for you now. Shall I help you undress?”
“No, that's okay. I can do that bit for myself, thank you.”
I don't need her watching me undress then getting showered. It seems weird.
“Good. Well, I'll wait for you in the bedroom. There are towels on the shelf. Just wrap yourself in one when you're finished, and we can get you dressed. Don't forget to use the body lotion.”
She is so cheerful and committed, it sets my teeth on edge.
I'm in this strange new world, held against my will, and she's acting as if I'm a guest in her wonderful luxurious hotel. Although, this place is more luxurious than any hotel I've ever been in - not that I've stayed in many.
Sometimes, when my father went to the human settlements on business, he would take me with him and let me wander around the towns or villages while he peddled the wares that we make in our community.
We don't use human currency for much, but we do need it for certain things, which is where my father’s role within the pack came in.
I step under the water and sigh as the powerful spray beats down over my aching body, washing away the dirt and the trauma too. It's as if, as the water caresses me and I use this beautifully scented lotion, the past few hours seem to drift away.
For one moment, I wonder if it would be so bad to stay here. I could live in this luxury, protected from everything outside and end up being taken care of by Dragan.
It's such a seductive notion. My whole life, I've never been protected nor cherished. I’ve been abused, bullied, and ignored.
Angrily, I wipe away a solitary tear and carry on with the task at hand. When I finish washing myself thoroughly, I step out of the shower and grab one of the towels. Wrapping it around myself, I sigh again at the softness and nuzzle my face against the cloth. It's the softest material I've ever felt - fluffy, warm, and smelling of summer meadows.
Hesitant as to what sort of clothing I’ll find laid out for me, I step into the bedroom.
“You forgot the body lotion,” Melissa says. “Can’t have you presenting yourself with dry skin.”
Presenting myself? To whom?
“Give me one moment.” I turn back to the bathroom but realize she's following me.
“Allow me,” she says.
She takes the body lotion and starts to rub it into my shoulders where they are exposed.
“You can drop the towel, you know? It’s nothing that I've not seen before. And you’re certainly not my type, no offence. I prefer them more masculine to you.”
Hesitantly, I drop the towel. With brisk, sweeping motions, she rubs the lotion in. When she's finished, I sniff at my skin and wrinkle my nose. I sneeze, and she laughs.
“Oh no, I hope you're not allergic to my lotion,” she says.
“Not at all,” I reassure her. “We wolves stay away from scented things because we have a very sensitive sense of smell. I like it though. It’s not too much for me. Just might take a little getting used to.”
“I heard that you're different to the other wolf shifters?”
“Is everyone talking about me?” I ask.
“Pretty much,” she says with a small laugh. “What do you expect? You've grabbed the attention of the most eligible vampire of the whole of fortress. You will be like a movie star to our people.”
A movie star? Seriously? Melissa was clearly only recently turned if she’s still talking about human preoccupations like movie stars, and I can’t imagine anything worse than being famous. I like to keep myself private and mostly hidden away from prying eyes.
“Come on, let's go look at the clothes.” She takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom to the bedroom, where on the bed are placed the most wondrous items of clothing I have ever seen. Long dresses in shades of rich emerald, grape, hot pink, and aqua, all shot through with beautiful threads of gold. “Wow, these clothes are incredible.”
She smiles at me and dimples fetchingly. “Yes, they are, aren't they? My sister makes them. That's her special talent.”
“Listen, Melissa, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I want to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth.”
Her face grows serious, but she nods.
“You say that you service the Legion, and you know the layout to these rooms, and yes I understand that you said you come in here to replenish the lotions, but... I don't mean to offend you, but have you been with Dragan.”
She sighs and bites her lip but gives a small nod. “You have to understand that he didn't know you then. He had no attachment to any of us. It's just the way it is in our society. Often, members of the Legion don't take a mate because they are warriors, and even though there hasn
't been a war for centuries, they believe that at any moment they could be called up to fight. So, they simply don't look for one. And we maids have chosen never to take a mate because the average vampire male is very possessive. We choose to be free. Now, of course, if one suddenly came across one’s mate, then that would change the whole equation.”
“Do you guys believe that you have pre-chosen mates?”
“It's not just a belief; it's a fact. We do.”
What am I to Dragan then? I mean, I can't be his mate because I'm a wolf shifter. We're fated enemies, nothing more. I've never heard of a wolf shifter marrying a vampire or mating with a vampire or whatever they call it. I am sure I’ve heard females called vampire brides when they get ready for the big day. Some say the human tradition actually morphed from the ancient vampire tradition and then changed heavily with the introduction of Christianity.
She must see my confusion because she gently places her hand on my forearm. “You'll have to talk to him about all that. I'll tell you something though, you're definitely important to him. He's never brought a female to his rooms in this way and had her dressed and showered for him. And I've heard that he's going to see the Queen. Whatever you are to him, it's something big.”
My heart rejoices at her words, but then the panic hits me. Is he arranging all sorts of things without telling me? Am I going to find myself bound to him forever?
Then I think of leaving, and the panic grows even stronger. The idea of leaving here, leaving his side… it's a physical reaction.
“What's happening to me?” I ask Melissa in a strangled whisper. “I don’t know him, but it feels as if leaving his side would tear me apart. Why?”
“I don't know exactly, but I think it's something seismic. I think your life is going to change forever.”
She takes hold of my hand and smiles at me. I swallow hard and try to keep the panic from rising.
Chapter Six
Dragan
I pound on the door to Sebastian’s room.
It swings open, and I'm relieved to see my friend is there. I enter the room, take a breath in through my nose and don’t scent his betrothed. Thank the gods. I'm glad I can have a moment alone with him to discuss this.
“I heard you bought yourself a little something tonight?” Sebastian twists his head to one side and regards me quizzically.
“You could say that, yes.”
“What's going on, friend?”
“I think I've met my fated mate.”
He gives a holler of laughter and throws his arms up into the air. “Brother, this is too good to be true. After all the teasing and ribbing you've given me, you're telling me that you've also fallen?”
“I think so, but I can't be sure.”
He frowns and walks towards the small wet bar he has in the corner. He pours us both a large glass of Brandy and brings mine to me, the amber liquid rich against the cut glass of the heavy tumbler.
“There is no not knowing. She either is, or she isn't. If it's anything like what I've been through, you wouldn't be second guessing yourself.”
“I'm not,” I tell him. “At least, I'm not second guessing the feelings. It's just that she's a wolf shifter.”
“Whoa. Wait a minute.” He takes a sip of his drink as his gaze narrows and his eyes harden. “Are you telling me that the girl you bought tonight is your fated mate? I truly believed you were buying a house servant to woo your vampire bride with.”
“I wish it were so because I'm pretty sure the Queen is not going to make this easy for me, but yes, the wolf shifter is my fated mate.”
I stare at him and hold my breath as I wait for him to answer. I sip at my drink as the silence stretches. I thought that he would support me no matter what, but I'm not so sure now.
His shoulders sag a little as he relaxes a notch. “Listen, if you believe she is your fated mate then it must be true. You've never thought it about anyone else, and you're certainly not the romantic sort to go get stupid notions in your head. It's just, I've never heard of it before.”
“She's latent,” I tell him. “She can't change. Maybe that's why?”
“Possibly. Still seems strange. You need to go see the Queen.”
I take another sip of the drink and let the burn warm my stomach. “I know, and that's where I'm headed next. I’m dreading it though, because if she tells me I can't be with Lisbeth, then I will have to leave here; I can't let her go.”
Sebastian smiles finally, and it's a broad one. “You've definitely met your fated mate, my friend. I feel exactly the same way about my betrothed. I would leave everything behind for her if I had to. I doubt the Queen will want to lose you though. You're her best warrior, and you lead her Legion. Without you, she's vulnerable. The mage is powerful, and it’s true that his magic protects her. There are no enemies really here for us to worry about, but you know what the vampire kings and queens are like. If one of those other families thought that they could take over this fortress and run the Scottish vampire clan, they would. She needs you. For that, you are lucky.”
I nod at him, thank him for the drink, and with newfound resolution, prepare to go and see my queen.
“Dragan.” The Queen greets me at the door of her chambers, which is highly unusual.
Where are her waiting-maids? Where is the damned ever-present mage?
She smiles, and as if she’s a mind reader, which she may well be, she says, “I told everyone to leave us.”
“You knew I was coming?”
“Word travels. I heard you’d found yourself a highly unusual mate, and I didn’t think we ought to have witnesses to our conversation.”
I hold a deep and abiding respect for my Queen. She’s old enough to have seen the fall of Carthage. She’s led armies into battles I’ve only read about. Unlike me, my Queen was born a vampire. She’s a true-blood, whereas I am only half. But, if my Queen tells me my betrothed has to go, then I will disobey.
I have no choice. My body is no longer my own, but simply a weapon my mate can avail herself of when she needs. There are other ways I wish for her to avail herself of me, but I don’t know if she’s untouched. I believe she is. The wolf shifters are not like us vampire. They’re old fashioned, and they control their females until marriage, keep them intact, and then make them produce more damn shifters. Therefore, my latent will need a gentle hand, and a vampire taking his betrothed for the first time is anything but.
“You look concerned,” the Queen says. “Don’t be. If you think I’m going to tell you to abandon your little latent, I’m not.”
A huge weight lifts from my shoulders, and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips as I think of Lisbeth back in our rooms, waiting for me. Our rooms. Washed, scented and expectant.
“I’m not sure how to proceed,” I admit. “She’s not one of us. Whilst she isn’t human, shifters are much more vulnerable than vampires. They have nothing like our strength, female shifters especially.”
Some alpha male wolves do indeed have the strength of a vampire, but they’re rare and become pack leaders through many decades of building that strength.
My female latent has no fighting experience, and I believe her pack mostly shunned her. I doubt she had the rudimentary physical education most shifters receive.
“She can take strength from you when you feed her your blood.”
I stare at the Queen. “Turn her?”
Why hadn’t I thought of that? It’s so obvious.
“Take it slow with her, my warrior. Don’t turn her but give her enough to lend her your strength. If you turn her, she can’t have young, can she?”
I’m utterly lost now.
“She can’t anyway. She’s latent.”
The Queen moves deeper into her chambers, gesturing for me to follow. I do so, super aware that this is not typical. A male vampire alone with his Queen without any of her maids-in-waiting – scandalous.
Her rooms are opulent and scented with neroli and bergamot. Battery-operated, fake candles
radiate light on every surface, reflecting off polished wood and gold-veined marble. Many of our kind still love their candles but use ones that cannot catch fire instead.
The Queen stands tall and resolute, her posture perfect, neck long and elegant. She hasn’t aged much to look at beyond a woman in her mid-twenties, but she’s so old, she probably can’t remember much of what she’s seen.
“I asked you here without anyone else around, which I am aware is highly unusual, because I wanted to show you something. It’s extremely secret because we, the leaders of the vampire nations, always believed if it were to be public knowledge amongst our kind, it would make every latent a target.”
What? Has she got something to show me to do with Lisbeth?
My heart rate quickens. We vampires have heart rates so slow; humans can’t detect them. Mine must be racing at a good ten beats per minute now as dread fills me that Lisbeth may be in danger.
“There’s a prophecy. Ancient. Powerful. I believe it to be true, and so do many others. It states that one day a latent will appear from the wolven folk, and she will become a vampire queen to a half-blood king, and they will create a new breed who can procreate and re-stock the vampire nation.”
My mind reels as I try to take onboard what she is telling me. My Lisbeth might be a fulfiller of an ancient prophecy? It can’t be.
“Of course, it may all be nonsense, or your little red-haired latent might not be the one, but you will know when you take her and drink her blood and give her yours.”
“How?”
She walks to a large, lacquered wooden dresser and opens the top drawer, using a gold, drop-down handle. Taking out a heavy, ornate book, she turns back to me and goes to sit on the brocade sofa.
“Come sit with me.” She pats the seat next to her.
I do so, uncomfortable with this close proximity to my Queen. It’s disrespectful.
“Dragan, I am about to tell you something which may change your life, so please, forget the hierarchies for one moment.”
I do as she says and try to let it go. I ensure there is a respectable gap between us, however.