Rose Bound: The Rose and King series Book 1

by J. J. Marshall

  Her breath hitched and blood roared within her ears.

  She couldn’t let herself go down that road. The one where she fell head over heels for some guy. No, she’d done that once before and gotten burned. She couldn’t give in to her emotions. Because if she did, there was no telling what she might do. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Rose focused on her surroundings. Her breath staggered as she fought to get a grip on her feelings. Her legs trembled and stopped as the trees around them opened up to their camp in the meadow. She rolled her shoulders, feeling the tension in her body ease up and sighed again, but it wasn’t enough.

  “You could have warned me,” she snarled, breaking the silence that hung in the air between them. She headed out into the clearing before she could hear Ollie’s reply. She didn’t care what it was. She could have lost him. And the thought of losing him unsettled her.

  The sun peeked over the horizon casting the sky in deep oranges and yellows, melting into the purples and blues of the early morning. Had Rose not been irritated with both herself and her wolf, she would have stopped and marveled at the beauty. Their sleeping rolls were still in the same spot, washed in the early morning dew, and deer roamed the clearing, poking their heads up from their breakfast grazing to watch.

  “I didn’t think it was a problem to bother you with, lass,” Ollie replied as he stopped closely behind her. She could feel the heat radiate off his body, calling to her.

  Rose whirled on her heel.

  “Not a problem? Not a problem?” Her voice raised into a shout. “You could have been killed, Oliver!” Ollie’s body tensed, flinching at her words. She’d used his first name. His whole first name. “What if I hadn’t gotten there in time? What if they had killed you?”

  “But they didn’t, lassie. Besides, I’m fully capable of protecting myself.” Sucking in another deep breath, Rose closed her eyes, fighting against nerves and anger. Fighting against the hold this damned wolf had on her world. Her lids peeled open and Rose closed the space between them, leaning into Ollie’s bare form. She raised her hands to his cheeks and stared into his eyes for a long moment, eyes that stole her away.

  “I can’t—” she began, her voice trembling as she tore her gaze from his and looked into the distance. Ollie’s warm finger grazed her chin, pulling her back to meet his gaze.

  “That’s not—” Rose pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

  “Can’t what, lass?”

  “I can’t lose you,” she whispered. Ollie’s heart thudded in her ears, roaring like the beast he shielded within.

  “And you won’t, lassie,” he whispered, his feral eyes boring into hers. His voice was weaker than it should be. Using his index finger, Ollie tilted her chin up toward his. The heiress’s breath faltered as Dawson’s lips met hers with a ferocity only his wolf could bring out.

  Wild and hungry.

  Rose pushed hers against his with equal hunger and something more. Longing? Desire? She didn’t know nor did she care.

  Ollie’s hands caressed her face before deepening their kiss. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, dancing circles with her own. Her breath halted as his faltered, shattering Rose into a million tiny pieces. His teeth grazed at her bottom lip, beckoning for the primal sounds that grew within her body. Her hands roamed, studying the hardened muscles of his chest and abdomen. His heart thundered in her vampire ears as he pulled back. He studied her as though he was unsure he should continue, unsure of what exactly was happening.

  Her hands slid to his side, becoming sticky with fresh blood. Ollie winced, gently grabbing her hand. His breathing was shallow now, his heart sluggish. The hand wrapped around her wrist trembled.

  “Ollie?” Rose searched his face, frantic to find the cause of his distress.

  “It’s nothing, lass. Just a bit of silver, is all.” His words came out forced, laced with pain. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Tora had sliced him deeply with a silver dagger.

  “Lass,” Ollie grunted. “I need—” Ollie became unsteady, wobbling on his feet.

  “Sit down! I have something to counteract the toxins coursing through your veins!” Rose snarled as she helped Ollie to sit. She had to make it back to camp, back to her supplies.

  “Don’t move,” she warned before rushing back to their camp. Tossed in a heap to the side of where their bedrolls lay, sat her pouch of concoctions. Rose gritted her teeth and then began to rummage through the contents.

  “Damn it! Where is it?” Rose dumped vial after vial of shimmering liquid onto the ground, praying to Dia that they didn’t break. She wouldn’t have time to replace everything. Not now. Not with ghouls after them.

  It’s got to be here someplace. Sucking in a breath, she scanned the ground, her eyes resting on the smallest vial. Thank the goddess! The vial was filled with shimmering gold and water lily nectar. A cure-all for silver-related ailments. Rose remembered finding the rarities on her venture through the snow-capped mountains of Caradar Hill on her way to the Bloodworth Manor.

  Rose jumped to her feet; time was not on her side. The longer she fucked around, the more the silver would infect Ollie… and kill him. Moving faster than she’d ever ran before, Rose dashed back to the wounded wolf. Ollie had laid back on the wet grass, his long, tangled hair shone like honey in the sun’s embrace. Rose moved, feeling a pull deep within her core like a moth to a flame. A very sexy flame. She kneeled down next to him, looking down into his paling face.

  “Ollie, open up,” she cooed, nudging him. A faint groan escaped his parted lips as Rose yanked the cork from the vial with her fang before offering the contents to him.

  Ollie’s eyes slipped open, finding her own. “You look like... an angel.” Rose snorted a very unlady-like sound at the compliment.

  “Oh, now I know you’ve lost it!” Yet, despite herself, she flushed at his words. “Take this, you big oaf.”

  Ollie obediently opened his mouth for her to drop her mixture into. The golden liquid pooled down his face as his throat worked on swallowing the magic. Good boy. Color rushed back into Ollie’s pallor complexion, the effects quickly taking hold. Rose’s lips quirked into a smile, radiating across her face, the pull within her strengthening, becoming an unbearable need.

  “I want you,” she whispered, pulling his mouth to hers, forcing him to prop on his elbows. Ollie pulled away and stared back into her hungry eyes. His eyes glinted a mischievous look. Oh, Rose’s wolf was very much back to his normal antics.

  “Want or need?” he asked, leaning in to trail kisses down Rose’s jaw to her neck. His fingers curled around the bottom of her shirt.

  “Just... just shut up and fuck me.”

  A low groan resonated in Ollie’s throat as Rose pulled her shirt over her head and unfastened the knives from her hip. Slowly, she lowered her leather pants from her legs, stepping out of them until she was in nothing at all. She kneeled down, closing the space between her and her wolf. His lips moved greedily against hers, probing her mouth wider with his tongue as the two danced in perfect harmony, coaxing the pull in her core closer to the edge. Rose pulled away, a moan tearing from her as her body relished the feel of Ollie’s touch.

  Ollie’s mouth ravaged her body, sending bursts of unimaginable pleasure through her veins. Groaning, she begged for more, digging her nails into the wolf’s shoulder as he kissed her hips. A primal growl answered her as he pulled back.

  “Your moans are music to my ears, vampiress,” his husky voice crooned, before his mouth slid between her thighs. Color flooded Rose’s vision as Ollie’s tongue played her body, flicking that sweet spot, tearing moan after moan from her before dipping in and out of her core. She tilted her head back, fingers scrunching in those luscious honey locks. Rose’s back arched as ecstasy ripped through her. Surfacing, Ollie moved up her body and grasped her face between his hands, kissing her lips. She could taste herself on his tongue, taste his want, his need with every move of his lips.

  “What do you want?” he asked, flicking his tongu
e out to lick at her lip.

  “You,” Rose panted. Ollie lowered her to the slick ground before moving himself to the spot beside her. His fingers wandered to places she’d longed for him to touch, squeezing and teasing her until that musical moan escaped her lips and she begged for him.

  Nestling her hand between his thighs, Rose grasped at his hardened member and stroked. Ollie snarled, his wolf coming alive. He lurched forward, hand twining in her hair as he kissed her into oblivion. He positioned his newly healed body against hers, and then, he thrust into Rose over and over. Rose bit into her lip, nestling her face against the wolf’s neck, stifling her cries of pleasure with each new thrust.

  “Sing for me, lassie,” he moaned. Skin against skin, mouth against mouth, Ollie and Rose clung to one another in a desperate attempt to fill a dark void within themselves. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge. A growl tore from Ollie’s throat as he thrust deeper until release found them both.

  Ollie

  Blades of grass pricked at Ollie’s exposed flesh, irritating his taut tanned skin, as he pressed close to Rose’s naked body, relishing the warmth of her skin next to his. She had fallen asleep quickly after finding her release for the second time, while he, on the other hand, was plagued with sleeplessness. His stomach knotted in on itself and Ollie swore it was because he knew what loomed ahead. He knew what danger it meant to follow his friend and the bloodbath the Prince of Blood would create.

  Gently, he pushed his massive frame to a sitting position, careful as to not wake the sensual vampiress next to him. After an eventful dawn, he needed sustenance. They both would. Running his fingers through his sandy locks, Ollie’s jaw dropped as he spotted clothes folded neatly at the end of his bedroll. Where had they come from? He’d been stark naked when they fell asleep. Silently, the hulking wolf grabbed the clothes and pulled out a plain white tunic to cover Rose before ambling to his feet. He didn’t treasure the thought of leaving her here lying naked alone.

  Then, he pulled brown leather pants and grabbed one of Rose’s discarded daggers and turned to take a look at Rose before setting out to hunt. She remained asleep, a halo of gold splayed around her head. Sunlight glistened off her bare body, shadowing the best parts of her. Ollie smiled as his mind played her moans over in his head. He’d made her sing and call his name as the sun rose. He’d staked his claim on the heiress. Ollie turned to face the Forest of Knowing and disappeared into the trees.

  The underbrush was alive with movement, rodents running awry and birds close behind them, both unaware of the threat he posed. Just how Ollie liked his prey to be.

  Unaware.

  Bold.

  Ollie crouched low and remained still, waiting for his breakfast to scamper by.

  Catching a few squirrels proved easy, taking Ollie no time at all. The further he ventured into the forest, the more he found, and soon, Ollie’s wolf ears pricked at the sound of running water.

  Shoving the carcasses into the waistband of his leathers, Ollie made for the pool. The mud sloshed beneath his feet as he approached. Wreathed in cattails, the body of water lay hidden within the trees. Ollie tightened his grip on the dagger’s hilt and hacked at the vegetation until there was a clear path. He kneeled, splashing the spring water onto his dirty face, catching a glimpse of himself in the rippling pool. He raked his wet fingers through his tangled locks, an attempt at taming the curls running wild to his shoulders, but it was no use. His sandy curls tangled back together, hanging back into his face.

  “Fuckin’ aye,” he said to no one. He cut a piece of leather from his pant leg away, securing back his hair. He’d need to get a fresh cut and shave when he reached Tatum. And maybe a visit to Madam Juniper’s. A smile played on his wolfish lips. Gavin would be pleased. He’d always hated how unruly Ollie would let himself get.

  “Aww, why so glum, puppy?” a female voice chirped. Ollie stiffened. He’d been so lost in his own thoughts that he’d let his guard down. His fingers tightened around the hilt of Rose’s dagger, the cool tip resting along his forearm.

  You fucking twit. Turning, Ollie stared into dark almond-shaped eyes and dark skin with dreaded hair.

  “Come to kill me?” he asked, arching a brow. The bandit smirked as she sat down, kicking her booted feet into the water.

  “Nay. If I wanted to do that, I’d have gutted you while you were deep in thought.”

  “So, what do you want then?” Ollie snapped. He didn’t have time for trouble. Gavin had enough of it and Ollie was sure he’d be cleaning up the mess. His eyes flashed to the weapons fastened at the bandit’s side. How quickly would she turn on him? Noting his lingering gaze, Tora’s smile spread across her face.

  “I’m not gonna kill you, mutt. Ease up, will you?”

  “What? No posse with you today?”

  “Well, granted that I’m alone, should be answer enough,” she quipped. “Believe it or not, I can go off on my own, puppy.”

  “Stop calling me that, lassie.”

  Sticking out her bottom lip, Tora said, “Not a fan of pet names, I guess. So, I see you got my note.”

  “Um, what note, lass?” Ollie asked, truly confused.

  The bandit leader simply rolled her eyes in response. Ollie knew he had to tell her something she’d want to hear, but would that get him killed?

  “You set out the clothes?” Ollie asked, gesturing to his still naked chest and trousers.

  “Ay, I did. I seek answers.”

  “Okay, let’s begin with introductions. You know my name, but I seem to have missed yours,” he grumbled.

  “Tora. My name is Tora.”

  “And what are you doing in these parts, Tora?”

  “Surviving,” was all she said, tipping her head back and closing her eyes.

  “We’re just passing through,” Ollie replied, hoping that his response would buy him enough time to get Rose and get the hell out of these woods.

  “Ah, yes. You and your vampire enchantress. Tell her she has nice aim. But the next time she throws a knife my way, tell her not to miss, because when I throw one back, I won’t.” Ollie tensed. His jaw feathered as he gnashed his teeth together.

  “Don’t threaten her,” he snarled as his wolf began to surface. Kicking her boots, Tora laughed as her eyes followed the ripples.

  “I think the fangbanger can fend for herself, puppy,” Tora replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Ollie’s breaths came in short puffs as his heart thundered in his chest.

  “Yes, she can, lass. But she doesn’t have to do so with me around. And you’re lucky I’m around.”

  “Is that so?” Tora asked, arching a brow at the wolf. Ollie’s heart beat faster in his chest as he watched the bandit slowly slide closer to him.

  “It is.”

  “Why are you so nervous, pup?” Tora asked in a low, husky voice.

  “I don’t trust you.”

  Ollie stepped away from the girl. It was true, he didn’t trust her, especially when she looked at him with a twinkle in her eye and a weapon strapped to her hip. The smell of Wolfsbane emanated from the bandit—the drug that was Ollie’s undoing. He wasn’t sure how she’d managed to get her hands on the substance.

  “You dropped your squirrel,” Tora said, picking up the kill and holding it out.

  “Keep it,” Ollie replied. “I-I’m- gonna go now. You’re not gonna ambush me, are ya, lass?” A sly grin passed over Tora’s lips.

  “Not this time, puppy. Not this time.”

  Rose

  A few hours passed and the sun streamed down, stirring Rose at the warmth of it. Smiling before even opening her eyes, Rose wriggled in the delightful sunshine, something that was not customary for her people, as creatures of the night.

  “Ollie?” she whispered, cracking her eyelid open. Once again, she awoke to no sign of the wolf.

  “Ollie!” she shouted, sitting upright.

  “Calm ya’self, lass, I’m over here.” Rose spun to the sound of his voice. She felt her heart return to a normal rhy
thm. He sat cross-legged on the ground, skinning squirrels, shirtless. Rose watched for a moment as the knife effortlessly slid through the creature’s hide. Her eyes flickered to Ollie’s arm, the way it flexed as it wielded the knife.

  Goddess, what was she becoming? Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the events of the early morning. The way his body moved effortlessly with hers. The feel of him. Oh goddess, yes.

  “I-uh, yeah, we should get going.” Rose coughed, clearing her throat. She hopped to her feet, searching quickly for her trousers and tunic. When she came up empty, she looked to Ollie who was placing a bit of raw squirrel into his mouth from the blade. He nodded toward a low-hanging branch on the edge of the clearing. Rose scowled as she sauntered over to yank on her clothes, feeling eyes on her as she dressed.

  “Okay, are you ready?” Rose asked, tossing him the linen shirt that had been draped over her. With a nod, Ollie stood, his mouth full of the tiny morsel and the remainder of the squirrel still in hand. He held out the second skinned squirrel and nodded.

  “Eat. You need blood before you go into a rage.”

  “I’m not a Ripper,” Rose huffed, pulling the dead animal from his hand.

  “No, but you still need to eat,” Ollie replied. He stood from his spot and bent down to sling their packs onto his shoulder. Rose sighed, knowing that he was right and lifted the squirrel to her lips and sank her fangs deep into its back. Cool blood rushed into her mouth, nearly gagging her as she drank. Her stomach churned, protesting, but Rose drank until the last drop was gone.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she said, leading the way across the clearing toward Elirion’s capital.

  15

  Ollie

  Hills of lush green greeted Ollie as his feet clambered up the loam-covered trail toward Northpass Village. He knew the place well, being so close to the stone quarry where his pack lived. Northpass was a small village on the outskirts of Tatum, where shops and fun could be found. Cleaner than The Pits, the townsfolk took pride in their quaint village. Humble and kind, they never once judged Ollie for his race. Never once looked down to him, unlike most places he ventured. But something told the wolf that the Northpass he remembered would remain only in his memory. A pain in his gut told him that whatever lay ahead was a product of a Ripper.