Laird of the Underworld : Book 1

by Verna Cyril

  Laird

  of the

  Underworld

  Copyright © 2020 by Verna Cyril

  Copyright © 2020 by Verna Cyril

  All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law

  Chapter one

  The smell of the ocean freshly filled Genevieve’s lungs as her father hauled her out of the rocking fishing boat. He didn’t have to say a word to her, the agony and urgency in his voice was enough to send shivers down her spine. They scrambled down the dock, heaving. Terrified, she followed him across the isolated street which was usually heaped with merchants by dawn.

  The wind howled and bit icily at Genevieve’s skin, forcing her to pull her cloak closer. The clouds hung threateningly over their heads blanketing the stars in the sky. Genevieve watched as her father frantically tied the boat to the dock. They began to move with the shadows again and proceeded north, towards the closest inn available. Her father impatiently walked into the open lobby. At the desk was a queer-looking older woman who provided a warm toothless grin.

  "Please madam, a room." Jared placed a substantial amount of cash on the desk. Minutes later they were escorted up the stairs to a quaint little room on the left side of the inn.

  Genevieve sank on the bed in despair searching the area in horror. Vividly coloured wallpaper covered the wall and a broken nightstand stood unattractively alongside their bed. She turned to her father. "What is going on?"

  Jared faced his daughter. Lines furrowed his face, already wearied from years of working on the ocean. He didn't answer immediately but walked towards the window and peered through the blinds. He then sat down next to her on the bed and took her hand. Genevieve had inherited her mother's exceptional beauty. Flawless skin, almond-shaped hazel eyes and a huge mane of blonde tresses that fell over her shoulders, she was turning eighteen in a few days and he knew what this meant. "We were chased, but we are safe now. Don't worry, get some sleep."

  "Chased!" Genevieve whispered in alarm. "By whom, father. What is going on?", she cried fearfully.

  Jared stood up again, ran his fingers over the sheathed blade at his waist. If he could only change time, he wouldn't have allowed himself to fall in love with Genevieve's mother. He'd given up everything he'd known for her, including his people, vowing never to return to his homeland. Now, after twenty years of moving away, they had finally tracked him down.

  Norwick, one of the eldest of the pack, had found them four years ago, promising to return in two years when Genevieve was sixteen. Jared had fought Norwick over his daughter and hopelessly that day, had sworn to keep a sacred promise: that Genevieve is handed down into marriage to Norwick's son. Having delayed the process two years ago, Jared knew that they would return again.

  For fear of losing Genevieve, Christina had immediately packed their belongings and moved as far as they could to a small town. For over a year they had lived peacefully and comfortably. Genevieve lived the life of a normal teenage girl like her mother always hoped for.

  After a year and a half of moving, Christina fell sick and was diagnosed with aggressive cancer. Jared mourned, Sadly he was unable to save his wife. Later that same year, she passed away, leaving Genevive in extreme depression. Now, he turned around to face his daughter.

  Genevive had never seen her father so despondent. Anxiety filled his eyes. He was strong and intimidated many, hence the reason why she could not understand his sudden fear. He grabbed her and buried her face in his broad shoulders. For the first time, Genevive, heard her father cry. He cried like a child. Fear held Genevive still. She could not believe what she was hearing

  “ Father, it’s going to be all right. I will call the police this instant. “

  “ No, Genevieve!”, he snapped. “The police are futile right now. I just want you to know that I love you and I will protect you till I die,” he reassured and kissed her on the forehead. He could tell that the pack was close. He closed his eyes. He was outnumbered, There were ten of them approaching. The floor began to tremble under their feet, the lonesome light flickered in the room.

  Genevive’s heart raced. “Father, what’s happening?”, she cried fearfully, searching the room. She stared at the door worriedly as if someone would swing it open.

  She looked up and gasped. What she saw nearly shook the life out of her. There were ten large men approaching them. Their steps were formidable. They were garbed in leather black trench coats with hoods, long black trousers and black boots covered their legs and feet. Genevive squinted her eyes then reopened them. It was odd because she could not believe that she had just seen them walking in thin air through the brick wall . How could this be?, she thought. Speechless, gawking as they entered the room, through the vast hole in the wall. It was like a big black vortex, Genevive’s throat went dry and her eyes rolled in her head. She fell helplessly into her father’s waiting arms.

  The humming was loud, Genevieve woke up in terror. She saw that her father was pinned to the floor. Angrily she yelled: “Let go of my father!”

  Jared kicked his opponent in the gut. The unexpected blow placed a disgruntled Norwick on the floor. Momentarily, Jared stood up and was attacked all over again. This time, she watched as her father was held up in the air like a doll and tossed to the floor. The nightstand broke in pieces. Genevieve screamed then attempted to run towards him. She swore profusely at his attacker.

  Norwick clucked his tongue. Before she could move any closer, she was grabbed angrily from the back. Her body slammed back into her captor’s rock hard chest possessively, nearly knocking the breath out of her lungs. She struggled to get out of her attacker's grip. Her efforts were pointless.

  Norwick continued to wag his head in disapproval, glancing over his shoulder at Genevieve then back at Jared who was pinned to the floor. “She swears, didn’t you teach her any respect?”, he growled.

  Genevieve watched as he nearly cracked her father’s neck. She began to sob. “Please don’t. Whatever you want, I will give.” She held her palms up in defeat, “Just please, let my father go.”

  Jared groaned, he grabbed the knife at his waist and stabbed his attacker in the leg.

  Norwick growled, kicking the knife from her father’s hand furiously. Reflexively he caught it in mid-air and placed it at her father’s throat.

  Genevieve screamed in agony. “No…, please. No!” She attempted to free herself again.

  “Relax”, her opponent’s voice was unyieldingly hard as he crushed her to him.

  Irritated Genevieve bit at his arm. “Unhand me, You brute!”, she returned.

  Alaric grunted. He tried his best to remain patient, knowing that she was unfamiliar with their culture. However, she was persistent in making him angry. First, she had called him a brute and now she had resorted to biting his arm. Not to mention, she did all of this in the presence of the Coven. Those who dared to jest under their breath received a deadly scowl. No one was brave enough to continue. In return, he squeezed her hard, obstructing the breath in her lungs. She slumped over his large frame, panting for air.

  Genevieve tried to turn around to get a look at her opponent’s face but he would not let her. She watched as the blade dug into her father’s neck. She begged again. “Please , I beg of you , please stop.” Her sobs were enough to make Alaric reconsider. He let go of her and instantaneously Genevieve ran to her father’s side. Norwick threw the blade to the floor and watched as the girl gathered her father in her arms. “ Father, are you ok?”. She rocked him fearfully.
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br />   Jared looked away from his daughter’s eyes, the heartbreak he experienced now was worse than the injuries inflicted on him.

  Norwick removed his hood slowly. Genevieve gasped, His eyes were black as coal and murderous. His face was pale and expressionless with a crooked nose. His hair was white silver. She had never seen anyone look so pale before. He spoke with authority. “You have brought us shame, Jared.” He spat on the floor. “You gave up your strength for the love of a mortal and look at you now.” His voice was bitter, a scowl furrowed his brow. “It is time!” He faced his acquaintances.

  Genevieve watched as someone hesitatingly approached her. She could not see his face, for it was also hooded. She yelled: “Get away from me”, then gazed down at her father. “Father”, she stared down at his blood stained face.

  Jared finally looked up at her, tears in the corners of his eyes. “Be obedient, my child, don’t fight him and he will love you.” This was the last words that he said to her as she was viciously torn from her father’s side and into this stranger’s arms. He grabbed hold of her with little but no remorse as she stomped and kicked to get away from him and back where she belonged. Genevieve had never cried this much in her life as she felt this man’s arms slid possessively around her waist.

  She wept until she was light-headed with a sore throat. Unfathomable as it was, she felt them moving high into the sky. She felt like it was a dream. She knew that it couldn’t have been. Exhausted, her body slumped into his hard chest, eyelids heavy. The cold bit at her skin and wind howled distinctively in her ear. She fell asleep, weary from all that had transpired that evening, nonetheless in the arms of a stranger.

  Genevieve woke up that morning in a dreary room. The curtains were heavy and voided the place of any light. She cringed, then began to sob again as the memories of what transpired ran through her mind. “Father….”, she murmured, then gulped. Her head was spinning. She sat up on the bed. She was alone and immediately noticed that she was undressed. Genevieve’s cheeks burnt . Did he undress me? “That bastard!”, she cried pulling the blanket around her naked form then anxiously walked towards the huge drapes covering the large windows. She jerked them open. The sun blazed ferociously outside. Worriedly, she monitored the surroundings outside from the windows. She saw nothing except for the forest, great evergreen trees a few distance from the back yard. The place looked remote. Tears pricked her eyes as she scurried away from the windows, searching the room frantically for her clothing. All she could get her hands on was her cloak. She carelessly threw it on and scurried towards the door, hoping that she might find someone who would be willing to help her find home.

  “Going somewhere?”, a deep but velvety voice resonated across the room. Genevive yelped in alarm with her palms in mid-air. The cloak which was wrapped around her fell open, giving Alaric a full view of her full round breast, rosy little buds, slender waist and a small mat of hair over her private parts . His eyes raked over her body hungrily, then as if staring at her very soul, he stared from an angle in appraisal.

  Alaric watched as her cheeks grew pink and she struggled to cover herself. He almost laughed but instead he waited for her response.

  “I am getting out of here!”, she replied boldly.

  Alaric raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her level of confidence. He had remained silent all this time watching her sleep. It was very difficult to ignore her completely while she murmured softly and made sweet little sounds while she slept.

  Genevieve was appalled. She had been so sure that she was alone. She stood there, fuming. “Who are you…. what do you want from me?”, she asked, as she struggled to get a full view of his face. He was still wearing his hood over his head. For some reason, the room was filled with light but that very corner where he sat was void. Her heart drummed against her chest. She felt frightened all over again.

  Alaric sensed her fear, the veins at her neck rapidly pulsed. He inhaled deeply to maintain his composure. He had no intention of having a frightened bride. Her thoughts were discombobulated, a million things ran through her mind fearfully. He listened tentatively. He was fascinated at the thought that she might think him dangerously sexy. He smiled wryly. Momentarily, he stood and approached her, his eyes locked with hers with desire.

  Genevieve’s throat went dry. Her heart continued to race as she looked into his amber eyes .She wanted to look away but felt trapped, locked with his gaze. His strides were powerful and formidable. He stood before her and lifted her chin.

  “Rest assured, I have no intention of hurting you”, he drawled.

  Genevieve inhaled sharply then pulled her chin away from his hold. She looked down at her feet awkwardly, building up her courage, then stepped away from him lifting her chin to hold his gaze bravely. “I am not afraid.”

  Alaric knew she was lying, not only were her thoughts filled with fear, but her eyes were showing. He ignored her, then reached out to touch her face again. Genevieve slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” Unbelievably, she watched as his pupils dilated and seemed to have changed colour. They were suddenly green with hues of amber and silver. Appalled, she bolted for the door and opened it.

  Annoyed at her disobedience, he slammed and locked the door before she could leave. Genevieve shifted the lock impatiently but it would not budge. She glanced over her shoulder in fear. She realised he was standing where she had left him. He didn’t even move, But how could this happen so quickly. Am I hallucinating?, she thought. “What are you, what do you want from me?”. Feeling helpless, Genevieve faced him, holding unto the door to keep herself from shaking.

  Alaric slowly lifted the hood off his head. Genevive gasped. He was provocatively handsome with appealingly bronze skin, dark black straight hair fell over the nape of his neck. A few strands fell casually over his forehead. Attractively messy hair, Genevieve thought. She also noticed that his eyes were amber all over again. She continued to feast on his features. His jawline was strong and his lips were deliciously inviting. For the first time, Genevieve squirmed, a surge of heat rushed down her stomach and shot between her thighs creating unfamiliar sensations. She became oddly uncomfortable as he stared back at her. She ran her hand through her hair and moved away from the door.

  “Soon”, he promised, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved his hands over the piece of furniture next to him.

  Startled, Genevieve gazed at him blankly, confused.” What do you mean by soon.”

  Alaric ran his eyes over her excitedly. “Our union shall be consummated soon.”

  Genevieve blushed. She cleared her throat. “What the heck are you referring to?”

  Alaric smiled lopsidedly. Genevieve’s knees buckled under her. No one had ever had such an effect on her before. She knew she was making a fool of herself.

  “We shall be married by this afternoon”, he said as he walked past her. “The women are coming right now to adorn you.”

  Genevieve began hyperventilating. She could not believe what she had just heard.“There must be some mistake”, she yelled. “I can’t marry you!”

  Unamused Alaric opened the door to leave the room. He had decided to exit through the door, considering the fact he didn’t want her to swoon. Their wedding was in little but two hours.

  “ Wait!..”, Genevieve whimpered, not sure how to stop the madness.

  Alaric paused, his back turned to her.

  She flinched. The room suddenly felt smaller, women and children surrounded her. Genieve gawked. They came out of nowhere. She turned towards the door again. He was gone. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she whispered in disappointment. “I don’t know your name.”

  Chapter two

  Genevieve inhaled deeply in an effort to calm down. However, it was pointless, She could not believe what was happening. Strange women were all over her dressing her for her wedding to a man she had just met. She watched her reflection in the mirror.

  “You are so beautiful”, one of the ladies named Tanya chimed. “Lord Alaric will be a very proud
man when he sees you walking down the aisle to him.”

  “Lord Alaric?”, Genevieve repeated.

  “Yes, my child.” Another woman who was buxom and much older, agreed. Her blue eyes lit up as she explained: “He will be crowned leader over the pack in a few days.”

  “Pack?” Genevieve repeated in disbelief as she touched her forehead in fear, worried that she might be experiencing some head trauma. There was a sudden rap at the door and a woman with undeniable charisma entered the room clapping her hands. “Ladies ...ladies, please stop flocking the bride. The poor dear has a headache. Cease from telling the girl such stories!”

  The other women scurried away from Genevieve then nodded in unison: “Yes, madam.”

  Genevieve watched, pulse racing as the woman stood behind her before the large mirror. To her surprise, the woman drawled with a smile. “Oh my….,you are extremely beautiful. My son has made a wise choice”, she reassured as she stared in approval at Genevieve’s reflection. She clapped her hands: “Bring in the jewelry.”

  Genevieve glared as Tanya hurried to follow the woman’s order.

  She held back her tears, then tried to relax with some deep breathing. She opened her eyes again, then raised her chin confidently. She was indeed beautiful. Dressed in the finest wedding dress she’d ever seen. It was beaded intricately with rhinestones, designed for a queen . It hugged closely to Genevieve’s body and accentuated her curves, falling elegantly to her feet with a train. The straps fell over her shoulder revealing her cleavage provocatively. She openly gasped when a girl named Amber walked up to her and presented her with a heavily diamond necklace. “This is for you, my lady.”

  Genevieve smiled, then leaned towards the girl who was perhaps seven years old and whispered: “Call me Genevieve.”