Immortal Skye (Vampire Mates)

by K. L. Bone

  “Please,” she begged, “Rónán.”

  “I’m here,” he whispered, taking a knee.

  “Until I fall asleep.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured, leaning forward to place a soft kiss upon her cheek.

  With his promise, Julia closed her eyes, surrendering to cursed slumber.

  Rónán remained kneeling for some time before he pulled a chair beside the bed. Once seated, he watched over his young love, heart aching at his inability to help her.

  When one of his kind transformed to human, they shed their seal skins, which transformed to a thin cloak. If this cloak was taken from them, the selkie to whom it belonged was bound to serve the thief who possessed the key to their freedom, until its recovery or return.

  Dozing, Rónán was awakened by a hand touching his shoulder. Expecting a maid, he straightened in the chair, wiping at his eyes as found Lord Stewart Skye standing at his shoulder.

  “My lord,” he said, startled. He moved to rise.

  “Remain seated.” The vampire positioned a second chair beside him. “It’s early still. Julia’s ability to withstand the daylight will not fully develop for many centuries. In this way, we may speak frankly.”

  A pause followed before Rónán invited, “What do you wish to discuss, my lord?”

  Skye studied the sleeping form of his only child. “I was born a vampire, as was my daughter. We are pure-bloods, not to be trifled with the desires of lesser beings. Pure families have intermarried for as long as our kind have existed.”

  Silence fell between them, Rónán waiting for the vampire lord to continue.

  “I never loved my wife. She was a great partner, yes. A political partner with whom to navigate the upper echelons of the vampiric world. A producer of my heir. But never my love.”

  “That’s sad, my lord.”

  “Is it?” Skye questioned. “To never feel as you do now? The heart breaking in your chest even as it continues to beat.”

  Rónán shifted uncomfortably, eyes moving toward Lord Skye in apprehension.

  “Do not deny it. I did not come here to blame you, but instead to consider the conundrum which has been created. A most unique event for a pure-blood vampire.”

  “What are you referring to?”

  “Can’t you hear it, Rónán? Or have these decades out of the water made you as deaf as a mortal?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Do you not, Rónán? Truly?” Skye reached out, grasping Rónán’s right wrist before pulling him none-too-gently from his chair. Moving him closer to Julia’s sleeping form, Skye pressed Rónán’s fingers to the side of Julia’s neck. “Do you feel it now?”

  Fingers forced deep into her flesh under the weight of Skye’s hand, Rónán detected the steady thump no pure-blood vampire was ever meant to possess. “Her heart,” Rónán whispered, “it’s beating.”

  “Yes,” Skye’s voice returned to more stoic tones as he pulled back.

  Rónán moved a second hand to her upper chest to press against the continuing beat. “How?”

  “There is only one way for a vampire’s heart to beat, Rónán.”

  “Which is?”

  “When they have found the other half of their soul. Their destined mate, as lesser,” his term for those who were turned instead of born, “forms of our kind refer to it. Finding such mates is a rarity, and among our kind, virtually impossible. Now do you see my obstacle, Rónán? My daughter’s heart was born still, never meant to beat in the rhythm of lesser beings.”

  “You’re telling me I’m her,” Rónán searched for the term, “soulmate?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. However, were her heart to break at an early stage in this transformation, it would return to stillness, and my daughter would again be as she was born.”

  Drawing a sharp inhale, Rónán met the vampire’s dark eyes. “This is why you are here? To force me to break your daughter’s heart?”

  “That is one way to state the objective. However, you might find a more favorable outlook in seeing this as a release from your bound servitude.”

  “Release?”

  Skye nodded. “I would give you back your cloak, and allow you to return to the ocean you love.”

  Rónán eyed him cautiously before shaking his head. “If all you require is her heart broken, why offer my freedom, instead of death, or some other form of torment?”

  “Because the heart must be broken by the lover in question for the bond to be severed. Killing you, or any other act committed against you by my hand, would not break this magical seal. Instead, you must trounce upon her love for you, leaving no trace of it to be found. Since I do not believe you to be a man who would do so, even possessing the knowledge that freeing her heart for her impending marriage would be best, I instead offer you an opportunity to regain what you lost. The freedom to depart for the ocean and people you care for.”

  “You honestly believe I would be so shallow?”

  “For your freedom, Rónán, would you not? And is it truly harmful to remove the temptation from a betrothed woman, to not fall into the arms of another man?”

  “She hasn’t even met him.”

  “Nor have thousands of brides who, nevertheless, walk down the aisle to wed every day.”

  “She’s terrified, and doesn’t want this.”

  “Doubtful as terrified as she would have been without the carnal knowledge of a night in your arms. That experience, at least, should have eased several fears. I am being generous in this allowance of your night together. Luckily, Caleb does not believe himself to be receiving a virgin. However, should you be discovered in her bed after they are wed, you will not find me so forgiving.”

  “Forgiving?” Rónán spat. “You admit she and I are meant for each other, by your own beliefs and sacred laws. Yet you intend to give her away to the highest bidder. To force her to—”

  “Do her duty? Yes. To the family, position, and bloodline into which she was born. I fully expect Julia to meet her obligations, Rónán. This coming night, my daughter will learn her place, selkie. The question becomes, are you willing to learn yours as well? If so, you will pledge to break her heart when she wakes at dusk, and shall in return be granted the freedom you desperately crave.”

  Rónán looked from the vampire lord back to his innocent daughter. “I promised I would keep her heart safe, no matter what transpired.”

  “Then honor your promise. Keep her heart protected, Rónán, sheltered beneath the waves forevermore. Every shattered piece.”

  Rónán shook his head. “Please, Lord Skye. Have compassion. She’s your daughter.”

  “Yes, my daughter. Mine, Rónán. To do with as I see fit.” Skye stood. “Marriage to the Black family is imperative for the continuation of our ancient bloodline. I shall not allow her blood to be sullied by impure filth!” The lord stepped back toward the door as he called to the stationed guardsmen.

  Numerous men answered, entering the room at their lord’s command. “Escort Rónán to a cell. I will not have him disrupting tonight’s festivities, nor swaying my daughter from her nuptials. You made a poor choice, Rónán. You could have been freed, finished at last with your service with responsibility for my daughter’s protection transferred to another family. Now, you will remain my prisoner, and soon regret refusing my gift.”

  The summoned knights stepped toward Rónán, whose gaze flew to his love, still trapped in the power of her enchanted sleep. “Please don’t harm her.”

  “Harm her?” Skye laughed as Rónán’s arms were wrenched behind him, and secured with thick, silver shackles.

  “I would never harm my own child. She is, after all, the future of my bloodline. However, due to this unexpected development, I am afraid more drastic measures will be required to gain her compliance. Do not worry though, I shall permit her heart to remain with you. She will not require it to satisfy her husband. Her other assets will do.”

  “Please, my lord, don’t!”

&n
bsp; Rónán’s plea ceased as a crude cloth was forced between his lips, turning his protest to mumbles as the men maneuvered him toward the door. Struggling, he managed to turn for one last glance at the slumbering beauty, golden locks tumbling over her sleeping form, before he was forced from the room.

  Chapter VI

  AD 40

  Isle of Skye, Scotland

  Soon after sunset, Julia awoke. Groggy, she wiped at her eyes to clear blurred vision, mumbling her protector’s name through parched lips. “Rónán?”

  “Afraid not,” the unexpected voice replied.

  “Father.” She struggling to a seated position. “I didn’t—”

  “I decided to sit with you myself. After all, this is the last night you shall awaken as only my child.”

  She searched the room, wondering if Rónán had stepped back upon her father’s arrival. Her heart twisted as her love nowhere to be found. “Where’s Rónán? He was sitting with me.”

  “Yes, and I relieved him. For your own good, you will not see him this night, or at least not until after the ceremony’s completion.”

  “What?”

  Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s not play games, Julia. You grasp my implication perfectly well.”

  Julia’s head lowered, a flush creeping along her neck to color her cheeks as her lips formed a thin line. A strange thrumming filled her ears. Raising her gaze, she searched for its source, but saw only her father.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “It?”

  She nodded.

  “How many times have I told you to be more specific in your questions, Julia?”

  “Rónán,” she clarified tersely. “He saved my life. How could you reward him with slavery?”

  “He’s hardly been living in a prison.”

  “He was born in the ocean. Water defines his kind. You taught me those stories yourself. How could you take the ocean from him?”

  “He saved your life.”

  “Exactly! And you punished him for doing so. Would you have preferred me dead? How could you be so heartless to the man who saved your daughter’s life?”

  “My actions were not intended to be cruel, Julia. They were meant to protect you, my child whose life I value as much as my own.”

  “Protect me?” Julia shook her head. “I don’t—”

  “Fate brought Rónán to you, Daughter. He saved your life when all others failed to do so, rising from the sea as though a gift from the gods. He was fated to watch over you from that point forward, until the day you came of an age to be gifted to another protector. I was not willing to chance him returning to the ocean when the gods assigned him to save you.”

  “You had no right!”

  “Where your safely is concerned, I have every right.”

  “Then let him go. If you’re giving me to the Black family, there’s no longer a reason for him to be here. Give him back his seal coat. Allow him to return to the ocean.”

  “A compelling plea, for you lover.”

  “A wedding present,” she countered, “for a dutiful daughter. Release him, Father. He doesn’t belong here, and even if he did, your reasons for keeping him vanish on this night.”

  Lord Skye held her gaze before stating, “We shall see.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Safe. For now.”

  The implied threat weakened her voice. “Don’t harm him.”

  “Those words,” her father replied, “are the exact plea Rónán made as he was escorted from the room. As though I would harm my own child on her wedding night. No…it would not do.”

  “Are the Blacks here?”

  “They arrived an hour ago. But you will not be permitted to meet with the groom until the ceremony.”

  “What? I’m not even to meet him before becoming his wife?”

  “No,” Skye replied. “What good would that do? Such a meeting will not change the evening’s outcome.”

  “Please, Father, if I cannot meet my groom, then let me see Rónán. I must—”

  “You may not, and if you wish to keep Rónán safe, or have any hope of me considering your request, I suggest a show of contrition and acceptance on your part. Embrace my decision with grace, Julia.”

  “Please, Father, I beg of you.”

  “Shh…” He pressed a finger to her lips, then rose from his chair to wipe her tears on the back of his sleeve. “Be a good girl now.” He held her gaze as he smoothed a stray strand of golden hair back to frame her face. “If you’re very good, he might live through the night.”

  Threat issued, Lord Skye left the room, leaving his daughter in heart-wrenching fear.

  Closing her eyes as she trembled, Julia again heard the faint, thumping echo she could not place.

  Chapter VII

  AD 40

  Isle of Skye, Scotland

  Gowned and veiled, the ceremony passed in a blur of stranger’s smiles and unfamiliar faces. Whisked down the aisle on her father’s arm, Julia recalled little, other than seeing her fiancé for the first time as he was pronounced her husband.

  Tall and lanky, Caleb Black had a thick French accent, which caught her off-guard as he recited his portion of their vows. For her turn to repeat them, a lump lodged deep in her throat. However, she swallowed hard, and forced herself to speak the promises that sealed her fate.

  After the ceremony, she was escorted to the grand banquet room where her father had arranged an elaborate feast, guests taking turns congratulating the new couple, and toasting renewed alliances with blood-filled flutes.

  Hours ticked by. Then, with a final toast, Julia was whisked from the banquet room to the bridal suite, where she was promptly surrounded by women of both families. Busying themselves around the new bride, the women removed her outer gown and unlaced the corsets and petticoats beneath. Ribs grateful to be free of their restrains, she moved a hand to her sides, rubbing gently. Left only in a thin shift, the women proceeded to unbind her hair, brushing through silky locks until they lay in golden waves down her back. Paint was reapplied to her lips, and a thick blue robe provided to prevent her from becoming cold as she awaited the groom.

  Left alone, Julia moved to the bed’s edge and seated herself stiffly upon it. She struggled for calm, but was unable to find it, body trembling as she pressed her shaking hands together, squeezing her eyes shut through her emotional struggle. She had barely said more than a dozen sentences to the man she was now expected to spend the rest of her immortal life with. Though the thought of forever paled in comparison to her fear over what was about to take place.

  As she shook, the strange noise returned, this time seeming to thump with physical force against her ears. Raising a hand to her head, she attempted to mute the incessant pounding, but her palms pressing against the external lobes of her ears only seemed to intensify the unknown noise.

  Before she could further investigate, the door opened and two people stepped inside. Gavina, Julia’s handmaiden, accompanied by an older woman Julia had never before seen.

  Gavina smiled as she stepped toward Julia. “How are you doing, my lady?”

  “As well as can be expected.”

  “‘Tis natural to be nervous about this next portion of the night,” Gavina assured. “No shame.”

  Gavina extended a hand, and Julia took note of the silver goblet cupped within. “What’s this?” she asked the unknown elder woman who stood next to her maid.

  “Something to help you relax.”

  “Relax?”

  Gavina nodded eagerly. “Should ease the nerves, and help you adjust to your new duties.”

  Julia eyed the goblet, considering, then shook her head. “I appreciate the gesture, Gavina, but I would rather face tonight with no assistance. It is my first time with the man I am meant to spend eternity with. I would like to remember the event.”

  “You will,” Gavina assured. “This is only meant to make the night more comfortable.”

  “Not necessary.”

  “I believe it
is, Lady Julia. Trust me, you want to take this.”

  The normally passive maid’s insistence left her uncomfortable, and Julia shifted away from the trusted figure.

  “Please, my lady, you must take this tonic.”

  “Why?”

  Gavina glanced to the other woman, who offered a smile meant to be comforting, yet instead sent a chill along Julia’s spine.

  “Who are you?” Julia inquired.

  “Lady Glamis,” the woman answered. “I am here to bestow a gift, my lady.”

  “What gift?”

  “There are two pieces to this wedding gift. The first shall be taken now, to ensure a more peaceful coupling. The second I’ll offer after consummation. Consider the tonic an offering of kindness.” The tall woman flashed a toothy smile. “‘Tis a gift from the Bargarran Coven, to ease passage into your new life.”

  Stepping back, Julia kept her gaze trained on the two women. “You’re a witch.”

  Gavina nodded in confirmation, motioning to the woman beside her. “This is Lady Jane Glamis, one of the most esteemed members of the local coven.”

  Alarmed further by the notion the liquid was likely bespelled, Julia shook her head. “I am reluctant and nervous. However, I promise, I require no additional support to perform my duties. I will lie with my husband, as both he and tradition dictate. Allow me to do so of my own accord.”

  “I’m very sorry, Lady Julia. You must take the tonic. Your father, and husband, command it so.”

  “I’ll be good.”

  “Then be so, and prove yourself worthy of their trust.” Gavina held out the silver goblet. “Drink, Julia.”

  Realizing she had no choice, Julia reluctantly extended a hand and took the magic-laced tonic. Raising the goblet, her nose scrunched at the vile, peppery scent as she forced herself to pour the liquid between reluctant lips. The drink was bitter, the spice burning her tongue, and she swallowed quickly in hopes of reducing the amount of time the taste would linger.

  Once emptied of its contents, Julia handed the goblet back to Gavina with a glare.