“My head swelled.” Ollie paused, squeezed Rose’s hand and took a deep breath. Rose looked up at the wolf who continued staring into the sky.
“But then my pops passed, and my world came screeching to a halt. It is believed among certain wolves that when one passes, they become a star in the heavens, forever to run with their pack. When he became one of those stars looking down on us now, I lost a part of myself. I broke off from the pack and started working the rings in the Underground. It was quick money and easy fame. I never worried about having full balls or a bed to sleep in. They usually came hand in hand.”
“Brothels?” Rose asked quietly. Ollie nodded. Rose stifled her snort of disapproval.
“Aye. That’s when I met Gavin and boy, was he in some rough shape. A high-end vamp in a low-end town. We sort of clicked, ya know? And we’ve been friends ever since.”
“Was there a point to this story, Dawson?” Rose asked quietly.
“The last thing Palmer said before Gavin left was that Gav’s parents were dead. I know my best mate and the monster that lives within him. We need to find him before the towns and hills run red all around us.”
A chill ran down the heiress’s spine. She knew what lived within Gavin. All the covens did, and she knew just how bloody his warpath could be. Rose lowered her gaze. Oliver Dawson was her partner now, whatever that meant.
“Then we find him,” she whispered and squeezed his hand. “For better or worse, we’ll find Gavin.” Her eyes lifted to see the wolf’s sheepish grin. Rose’s heart thudded and her mind whirled when Oliver pulled her to his chest. Ollie tilted her head up toward him with his index finger and leaned in, grazing his lips against hers. Butterflies curled into fire, lighting the pit of her belly with need. She wanted the wolf. She needed him. She wanted to taste him, to feel his tongue dance with her own, but the moment was fleeting as Ollie pulled away.
“Thank you,” he whispered, before turning back to gaze at the stars. A lump formed in the heiress’s throat and she wondered if the wolf was thanking her for the encouraging words, the stolen kiss or simply just being there to listen. Rose bit at her lip as she raised a hand to her mouth.
“We should make it to the tree line before setting up camp,” Rose mumbled, lost in her thoughts.
Gavin
A cloud of smoke slithered through Gavin’s parted lips as he pulled a lit cigarillo from between them. He’d never been a smoker before Ollie, but feeling the burn in his lungs and the taste of tobacco on his tongue brought a sense of calm to the Prince of Blood. He remembered the first time he took a drag and the sensation that swept over him… ahhh yes, he’d been hooked ever since. Now, after finding Oliver’s favorite blend in a small shop he’d plundered after his Ripper had devoured the townspeople, he found it brought him closer to his late friend. Calm was something he needed now more than ever. Even if it was forced.
The four royal covens were coming together to decide his fate, or so Gavin had been told in between drunken stupors. A week had passed and keeping to his chambers, Gavin spent days indulging in dark liquors and bloodwhores from Tatum’s slums. With his many hungers sated, Gavin’s head was clear. His heart hurt, but was not utterly broken, not for the moment.
The covens were set to arrive later today, laying a sense foreboding thick in the air around the prince and he realized just what all that entailed for him.
Lorelei. A Bloodworth fully befitting her family name, and his former fiancée. She had caught him secretly releasing blood slaves in the middle of the Winter Commons, a holiday spent dressed to the gills, where vampires danced the night away with blood spilling from their victims and chalices. A shiver ran down Gavin’s spine at the memory. His Ripper was absolutely delighted in the bloody celebration. Gavin sucked in a breath. He had run shortly after the next Winter Commons, unable to face his parents, unable to face anyone after his kills.
Just as his thoughts were taking a darker turn, the pitter-patter of young feet caught his attention. A small rap on his door had Gavin lurching for the handle and yanking it open.
“Gavie!” Aurora sprang up and into his arms. He plastered a smile on his lips and looked down into his sister’s face, much like his mother’s—so young and wise. Negative thoughts dug their claws into his mind as Gavin struggled to think of happier times. He picked at his smooth lower lip, nicking it with his fang. Gavin could feel the air changing into something sinister. Sweat peppered his brow as his breath came in short puffs. Something was amiss, lurking, just waiting for him to slip.
Gavin struggled to breathe, his chest tightened. What the fuck? What the fuck!
Give in, little vampire, his Ripper crooned. Give in like you did during Winter Commons. Make the halls run red.
No! Never again! Gavin fought to focus on Aurora, squeezing her a little harder than he should have.
You disgust me.
“Gavie, you’re cr-crushing me!” Aurora squeaked, tearing Gavin from his internal battle. After days of numbing the pain in his heart, he needed to be with his family.
He had missed so much of Aurora’s young life, and in a few short years, her fangs would grow in and her thirst for blood would take over. Darkness would pull on her like it did to him. Would she wield a Ripper? So much had happened in her tragic life… Gavin shook the thought from his mind and stared into his younger sister’s eyes.
“What’re you doing here, Little Dove?” he asked and patted her hair.
“Declan was mean and Gavie locked himself away for a long time. Sissy wanted to check on bigger brother. Wanted to make sure he was okay.” Aurora giggled, pushing her index finger into his nose. Gavin’s lips quirked into a smirk as he leaned in to whisper in his sister’s ear. “I escaped the maid and came straight here!” That explained the lack of supervision. Gavin smiled at the thought of his sister sneaking out of her chambers and tiptoeing down the halls to his.
“Don’t you worry about a thing, Little Dove. Gavie has everything he could ever need right here.” Aurora let out another giggle. “Besides, that was days ago. Gavie is fine.” Gavin watched as the tension on Aurora’s face relaxed.
“I love you, Gavin,” she said. “Please don’t leave again. Don’t let mean Declan take you away from me again.” Gavin’s heart lurched as his sister caught him off guard. What could he say to her? Surely, he couldn’t promise her that. If things went south and the covens banished him, then what would he be?
An oath breaker.
A liar.
And that was not something he could be. Not something he would be. Aurora had lost just as much as Gavin and Declan and a little more. She’d lost a childhood full of innocence and heartbreak, lost memories that would never come to pass.
Her future was forever changed because of him.
Ruined because of him.
But Gavin couldn’t help feeling the way he did. He couldn’t help freeing the humans from their slaved posts. Part of him knew that he would have done it tenfold, regardless of the outcome. He would change Tatum, chosen by the covens or not. No Rose Bound ceremony would change his thoughts. If not for himself, for Aurora. He would give her a better world, a freer world.
The castle shook, vibrating from the force of hundred winged beasts flapping their wings. The chandeliers overhead swung, each crystal clinking against the next. One by one, hooves pounded the stones outside, sending a shiver down the prince’s spine. He didn’t need to see who it was or rather what, they were. He already knew.
The Bloodworth clan had arrived.
Gavin knew that his sister had never witnessed such an affair, had never seen the regal black Pegasi descend in formation. Without hesitation, Gavin shifted his sister in his arms and bolted down the hall and staircase leading to the grand foyer.
The castle rumbled beneath the force of the beasts outside, their flapping wings deafening as Gavin pulled open the door and stepped outside.
The cool evening breeze bit at their exposed skin; dusk set in along the horizon. Gavin turned to Aurora an
d watched her gaze fill with awe and wonder as the beasts landed. Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred and then as the last of the Bloodworth’s descended, his sister let out a squeal.
“That one!” She pointed up into the darkening sky, her voice barely audible amongst the chaos. “It’s white!” Gavin felt his stomach twist and curl in on itself, a knot forming deep within his gut. Gavin knew the owner of that beast all too well. A flash of black hair whipped from the side of the beast’s neck as the Pegasus dipped and descended. Aurora let out another squeal, clapping her hands. Her eyes followed the beast’s every move. Atop of the massive white beast sat Lorelei, dressed head to toe in brown fur and black leathers.
Her raven hair glistened, holding a shine that stumped Gavin. He remembered the feel of her silky tresses, the feel of her lips on his skin, trailing down as they enveloped—
Lorelei’s dark almond-shaped eyes slid to Gavin and narrowed. Her lips, as though she’d eaten something sour, curled into a sneer as though she knew the prince’s treacherous thoughts. She slid from her saddle and handed the reins over to her servant before turning back to her Pegasus.
“Be a good boy for them, Demetrius,” she cooed while stroking the gelding’s nose. The Pegasus snorted in response and Aurora clapped her hands again. Wriggling free of Gavin’s grasp, she slid down his legs and ran to the beast. Lorelei smiled and scooped the princess into her arms.
Gavin watched his ex-fiancée grin, as she turned back to Demetrius. The two spoke in low voices, cooing to the beast and scratching his nose. Gavin flicked his tongue over his fang and clenched his jaw. He fucking hated this so much. He sucked in a deep breath and then he approached.
“Well, if it isn’t the Prince of Blood, ladies, and gentlemen,” Lorelei snarled out to no one in particular. She turned, lowering Aurora to the ground and faced Gavin. A smile pressed her lips. “Come to escort me to court?” she asked, her tone taking on a note of innocence. But Gavin knew she was far from innocence and grace. He balked and narrowed his gaze. Hardly, he wanted to say. But to give Lorelei the satisfaction gritted against the prince like sandpaper.
“Such a broody little prince,” Lorelei sneered and took a step forward. “Is this how you greet a long-lost friend? A princess?” Gavin choked on his laugh. Friend, hardly. Evil bitch from hell, maybe.
“I need a goddessdamned cigarillo if I’m to deal with you for the next week,” he hissed quietly. He wanted nothing to do with Lorelei or her conniving little schemes.
“A cigarillo?” she asked, arching a thin brow. “Since when do you smoke? Such a dirty little habit. But then again, you did whore yourself around in the Pits for well over six years. Did one of your bloodwhores give you a taste? Or did you pick up the habit to cope with your rotten choices? Need to numb the pain?”
“That’s enough,” Gavin snapped through clenched teeth. Lorelei’s smirk grew wider, spreading across her face. “You will behave in front of the princess, Lore.”
“Oh, you’re right. Demetrius needs to be fed. Speaking of pets, where is Oliver? I heard he was a beautiful little snack?” Lorelei winked. “Did your Ripper have fun with him, Jagger?” she whispered, pushing into Gavin’s personal space. Bile lurched in Gavin’s throat as his vision grew dim. His Ripper pushed against him like a force of nature begging to be released. Gavin flicked his tongue over his fangs, slicing it and tasting the familiar tinge of blood pooled into his mouth, but his anger grew, his veins throbbing to throttle the heiress where she stood.
“Don’t you fucking talk about him!”
“Awe, did I hit a nerve?” Lorelei replied, mirthlessly. A whimper sounded from Aurora below as she cowered closer to the beast, but Gavin’s attention remained locked on Lorelei. He wanted to kill her. Wanted to spill her blood in front of her clan and then decimate them too. Fuck you all, he thought, giving into his darkness. The Ripper grinned within. He wanted to hear their screams and see their blood and—
“Gavin,” Declan hissed from behind him, clasping his shoulder. Gavin’s thunderous thoughts halted. He loosened a growl before turning to face his brother.
“Leave us,” he commanded.
“No. You’re making a scene. The entire Bloodworth clan is here. Pull yourself together.” His brother’s words were gentle but commanding.
“Fuck. You,” Gavin snarled, taking in the clan blooming around Lorelei. Her lips curled again. She’d won. She’d gotten under his skin. Before he could do something he would come to regret, Gavin turned on his heels and strode back into the castle.
“Yeah and this is the hot temper you want to rule us with,” he heard Declan reply, before Gavin slammed the door.
11
Ollie
Trees towered around Ollie as he set up camp. He hated the forest and its magical nonsense. Always knowing, always watching, always haunting. The Forest of Knowing was a brutal place to find oneself, as if he needed to be reminded of his past. Rose laid asleep nearby on the dew-covered grass, the sound of her gentle snores catching on his wolf ears. Ollie smiled. Artemis, did he like this lassie. Everything about her warmed him. Remaining alert, Ollie continued to gather sticks. Rose had chosen a dangerous location for camp, just on the outskirts of a bigger town, all too close to Palmer and his goons.
He knew they could have traveled with immortal speed, but with her lack of feeding and Ollie’s injuries, the rush would simply impair them further. He did not want to hurry his time with her any more than he had to. Ollie kneeled down to grab another twig for his bundle as his mind drifted to Gavin.
Gavin was a wild card when grieving. He had seen the aftermath of Lorelei’s betrayal, and how she’d taken her sweet time with it. He saw how Gavin had been in the pubs and tavernas in the Pits. The amount of blood that coated his suit when he’d finally slump onto the bar. His deep-rooted need for blood was usually well contained. The Ripper tore at him when he was at his lowest, Ollie knew this. But what he didn’t know was if Gavin thought he had successfully killed him or if he had fled to get to his siblings. Either way, the war raging within him was sure to wreak havoc on those that crossed his path. Oliver shuddered at the thought. Though he loved his friend, there were places in his mind even he did not dare tarry.
The trees of this place recorded time, emotion, and history. Whether it was blood or sweat spilled, the roots of the trees drank up the emotions and actions that transpired beneath their branches. Before the Wars, this place was farmland, lush and green, abundant with the sustenance of life, or so Ollie had been told. Then Limos plagued the Night, spilling the essence of innocent life into the soil. From it, grew haunting trees that trapped souls and the memories of those who perished here. If Gavin had passed through, Oliver was sure a breakdown would follow.
His friend was strong in will and body, but his heart was another entity altogether. As Oliver looked over at the sleeping vampire noble, his own heart leaped. Rose shifted in her restless sleep, making a strand of golden hair fall across her face. Oliver longed to reach over and tuck it away. But voices pricked his wolfish ears, stopping him from doing just that. He turned abruptly to the right. Females were close by. Oliver glanced again at Rose before he moved quietly, swiftly, back to the camp and lowered the bundle to the ground. He grabbed for one of the heiress’s unstrapped daggers and stole away into the night with one of her knives in hand.
“Mother! Why must you always intervene? We should have killed him!” a female voice chimed. Ollie approached a clearing where the lack of bloodshed failed to nourish the trees. The clearing was absent from all life, aside from a group of women. Most were young, of varying descents, except for one that was older and greying. Each woman of the clan was dressed in tanned leathers and furs, with berries juices painting their sun-kissed skin.
“Darling, in time you will see that murder is not always the correct answer. You cannot simply kill off all of your problems,” the aging female said. Ollie turned, hiding behind a nearby tree and watched the group.
“I can try,” the younger one resp
onded, eager for blood. She must be the leader.
Ollie shifted forward to get a better look at the women, paying close mind to the position of his feet. One wrong move, one twig snapping, and the group would know his location.
“My sweet Tora, have you not an ounce of your humanity left?” the old woman asked, reaching out and placing a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.
Tora shrugged off the tender touch and turned toward her elder. Now facing Oliver, he could see her exotic beauty. His eyes scanned over her, slowly drinking her in. She’d be any man’s fantasy. Her eyes were the perfect shade of cognac. She had curves in all the right places and her midnight hair braided back in five braids, cascading until they melded into the rest of her curls. Purple paint streaked along her high cheekbones. On her back was a bow and quiver, and dual daggers were strapped to her hips.
She was a warrior.
A goddess.
“It has been a few days and still its stench lingers here,” Tora replied. Oliver inhaled deeply, trying to catch what she was referring to, but he was downwind and the only thing he could smell was a woman who was ovulating. His carnal need to procreate was surfacing.
“They must pay for what they did to me. To all of us.” Tora’s voice was now a whisper.
Who is ‘they’?
“The beasts who enslaved us will pay for their crimes, Mother. I can assure you of that.”
“My dear girl, but someone was benevolent. We were released.”
Tora’s eye’s flickered to the older woman, her face twisting into something much darker. “Does that excuse their monstrous behavior? We were blood bags with vaginas and they used us however they wanted!” Murmurs rattled through the group of bandit women, some in agreement with the young leader.
Rose Bound: The Rose and King series Book 1 Page 9
