Laird of the Underworld : Book 1

by Verna Cyril

  Alaric snickered as he listened to her thoughts silently. He watched her face and neck heat up with ridiculous shame.

  She shot him daggers, “What have you done ?”

  Befuddled, Alaric returned her stare with indifference. “What do you mean, what I’ve done?” His eyes now twinkling mischievously, “We made love.”

  “We?” , Genevieve scoffed in dismay. She sat up and in a very defensive tone continued. “You kidnapped me, then seduced me!”

  Alaric snorted: “I highly disagree,” then grumbled, giving her his broad back. “I wouldn’t call it ‘seduce’ if I were you.”

  Genevieve gasped, “How could you?”

  Alaric returned her stare then raised his palms up in surrender. “Look, just calm down. There is a perfect explanation for all of this.” He ran his other hand through his dark hair in consternation. Her behaviour was definitely a shock to him, he thought, not what he was expecting after such a pleasurable experience.

  Genevieve sneered, “Which is…..?” Her words hang bitterly in the air.

  Alaric’s thoughts returned to what he thought was a valid explanation. He disputed. “This marriage was a mutual agreement between our parents.”

  “You mean, when your father held a knife to my father’s neck? Is that what you called mutual?”, she replied scornfully.

  Alaric’s jaw tensed, when he finally spoke, his voice was strained from bleak annoyance. “Your father promised your hand at sixteen years old. You were mine to take.”

  “Is this why you kidnapped and seduced me?”, Genevieve retorted sharply.

  Alaric’s eyes widened in disbelief unable to contain his disapproval at her prolonged accusations. He was failing miserably at keeping his anger in check. He clenched his fist, thinking this entire conversation was unnecessary. However, his dutiful wife did not understand the customs of a Dunkan bride. Not to mention the fact that she knew nothing about the culture of a vampire. Vampires always took what they wanted and single-handedly annihilated anyone who stood in their way. Vampires were blood-thirsty, dominating creatures with an insatiable appetite to conquer. He drew a breath then listened to her thoughts silently. She was overwhelmed by anxiety. The pensive look that crossed her beautiful features while she thought of her father nearly made him sick with disgust at himself.

  Genevieve pulled her knees to her chest dolefully on the bed. Father! she thought.

  Alaric’s heart lurched. Not only did he feel her pain but he heard it in her voice. He quickly closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms on the bed, “Genevieve, I care a great deal about you”, he whispered.

  Genevieve closed her eyes; shivers of excitement ran down her spine. “I know nothing ...”

  Alaric intruded, placing his index finger to her lips. He knew what she was thinking. “About me? I know.” he soothed her.

  Genevieve waited for him to explain.

  There was no easy way to tell her. “We are very much alike,” he pointed out.

  Genevieve frowned, “I don’t understand.”

  Alaric tightened his hold around her waist and whispered in her golden tresses. “I am a vampire.”

  Dumbfounded, Genevieve stiffened then slowly looked over her shoulder to meet his penetrating gaze. Alaric loosened his hold and held her at arm's length to look into her radiant face. Her huge cinnamon pools were wide with disbelief. Genevieve turned away from his gaze and watched quietly through the large double pane windows into the sooted sky. Countless stars, peekaboo at them from the heavens. A barely audible snort followed by ripples of laughter spilled the room. Soon, Genevieve was slapping her knees and shaking with laughter in his arms. Unamused, Alaric’s countenance remained grim as he waited impatiently for her to finish. Breathless, Genevieve sat up and finally looked at him. Her hands on her chest in sheer amusement. Her smile slowly broke as she stared back into his deadpan profile. His eyes were void of any expression.

  She shifted uncomfortably, head tilted to one side, her smile now faded. “You are serious, aren’t you?”, she whispered in disbelief.

  To Alaric’ surprise, Genevieve squealed then bolted from the bed.

  She turned to face him hastily backing away to the bedroom door. She grimaced. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  Alaric sighed deeply, his lips drew into a tight line of annoyance. Impatiently he drummed his fingers over the mattress. His strong long legs crossed at an ankle. He gazed at his young wife under his eye lids in boredom. Her heart was racing, the sound pounded in his eardrum. He gritted his teeth, eyes locked with hers as he slowly stood up from the bed. His eyes ran over her chalky pallor. She looked like she would fall over and faint any moment from now. “I am not going …” Too late, he thought as Genevieve sprang towards the open door. “Not likely”. Alaric muttered under his breath and in a heartbeat, shape-shifted from his position to where she stood.

  Startled, Genevieve flinched, screaming as she anxiously tried to step away from his reach. His arms circled her waist molding his naked form against hers, his arousal pressing hard against her waist. Panicking, Genevieve let out a yelp. Alaric quickly placed his finger on her lips to silence her then breathed in her ear: “Shh...”

  Knees buckling, she inhaled sharply as he nuzzled her ear.

  “I am not gonna hurt you,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

  Genevieve shivered. “Please...” she whimpered with a grimace.

  Alaric sighed, then let out a growl of frustration. She didn’t trust him. Rage pulsed through his veins. He lifted her, Geneveive now a kicking,screaming banshee into his arms, crossed the room and dropped her onto the mattress. Genevieve heaved, her airways nearly blocked, fighting to get her hair out of her face.

  Alaric stood over the bed, his emerald green eyes shone with unpredictable rage.“You are my wife and my role is to protect you, not harm you,” his face now twisted with hurt.

  Genevieve remained quiet.

  Icily, he continued:“Do you believe that I am some kind of monster?”

  Silence hung heavily in the air. “Answer me,” Alaric demanded through clenched teeth.

  Genevieve flinched. Confused and scared, she opened her mouth: “I…I don’t know.”

  Alaric watched as her beautiful eyes darted around the room with apprehension. Frustrated, he tore his gaze from her then began to pace the room. Genevieve silently gazed at his large back and strong thighs rippling with strength during every stride. Absentmindedly she bit on her lower lip as her eyes followed him across the room. He was the epitome of masculinity. He was not lanky or too buff. He was just the perfect height and build of a real man, of a sexy demi god. When he turned to face her, his perfectly chiseled face and sun-kissed chest nearly made her groan out loud. Unable to contain herself, her eyes roved lower down his abdomen, tracing down the line of hair to his private parts. Genevieve’s cheeks and neck grew pink from embarrassment as odd but pleasurable sensations spiraled down between her thighs. When he finally spoke, his deep voice was laced with honey. He walked over to the bed and sat away from her ready to explain everything that had occurred before their wedding.

  Genevieve listened as tears pricked her eyes and she listened to Alaric explain to her about the covenant between their parents. Genevieve's mouth dropped, as tears brimmed her eyes. She wanted to speak but was suddenly caught speechless for the first time in her life. She dropped her face in her palms. But why didn’t father tell me? she thought

  “Your mother,” Alaric replied tersely.

  Genevieve stiffened at the mention of her mother. She raised her face that was now stained with tears. Her voice was hoarse when she responded. “My mother, what do you mean my mother?”

  “Your mother never wanted any of this for you. So, she made your father swear not to tell you”

  Genevieve, who was angry at her father minutes ago, was now chastising herself for her behaviour. This wasn’t her father’s fault. She rocked herself sobbing. Poor father. He must have been heartbroken to keep t
he truth away from me. He had given up everything he’d ever known for the sake of love. She felt Alaric’s hand on her wrist as she mopped tears away from her eyes.

  Genevieve gave Alaric her back, eyes glazed, she stared into the fireplace. She was no longer ashamed to show this man her vulnerability. She didn’t give a damn anyway with what he thought of her. The flames crackled and seethed. She felt his arms encircling her waist. She shook her head, feeling exhausted from everything that had occurred. “I am tired.” she rasped, curling over the mattress. “I will sleep now.”

  Alaric’s arms fell to his side. He could tell that she was tired. Hastily, he slid under the blanket with her and pulled her into his arms again.

  Hurt, Genevieve buried her head in his shoulders and wept softly. She closed her eyes and thought. I am not ready for any of this. Nothing could ever prepare me for such a change. It was just too much to bear, she whimpered.

  Alaric listened quietly to her thoughts until she drifted to sleep. He ran his fingers through her hair and pet her face, inhaling deeply of the scent of her hair. But ahh, Genevieve, he thought as he watched her sleep peacefully. Now that you belong to me. I can never let you go.

  Chapter seven

  “Why did they come?” Alaric bellowed, clenching and unclenching his fist. He turned to face his advisors who were uncomfortably seated at the meeting table. Fury surged through his veins and his nails dug into his palms. “The Crinamortes have not been a problem for this family for generations. So, what would make them want to visit now? “

  The silence in the room was thick. Alaric crossed his arms across his chest and stared into the ceiling at the brilliantly designed chandelier. Thumb under his chin he began pacing the lush red carpeted floor. The meeting room had been refurbished a few months earlier giving the room a fresh and inviting aura, family portraits covered one wall and the one side of the opposite wall was a tall dark stained bookcase. Straight ahead of them was a large flat screen television fitted in the wall.

  Norwick finally entered the room to bear testimony of the long awaited news. “I just received word from our allies, apparently, the Crinamortes have some interest in a special gem that you are keeping.”

  Alaric stopped, midway through his tracks then snickered, his back turned away from his father. “A special gem huh?”, he returned snidely, his voice a deep baritone.

  “Easy there,” Norwick cautioned him, moving towards the large glass table to pour himself a gin and tonic.

  Alaric’s jaw clenched as he turned to face his advisors with a wave of his hand. “Meeting is dismissed. Everyone, out!” . He watched as the men quickly departed the room. He spotted his friend Damon from the corner of his eyes lifting off his chair. He rolled his eyes. “Dammit, Damon, Not you!” He waited till the room was vacant except for his father, Damon and himself, “My wife?”, he boomed.

  His father nodded then pointed in a matter of a fact tone, “They won’t stop until they get what they want.”

  Alaric almost grabbed the glass of gin that Damon offered him and took a large swig. “Over my dead body!”

  His father crossed his arms across his chest then began to explain. “Genevieve is the only vampire who is known to be half-human and half-vampire. Upon her transformation, she is an extreme threat to the Underworld including the Crinamortes. However, if they are able to get a hand on her before she is transformed, she would be the bride of the eldest son of Lord Crinomortes. This would give them the ability to control her powers.”

  Alaric dropped his fist with the empty glass down onto the desk so hard, the glass which was frail against his strength, cracked. “I am going to destroy them all”, he promised under his breath, his eyes blazing with mad fury.

  Damon chuckled, “I believe someone is quite taken with his new bride.” sounding much too frivolous to Alaric’s liking. Alaric gave his friend a death stare, boiling with anger under his now seemingly calm disposition. He clipped: “Laird’s Crinomorte son doesn't deserve her.”

  “And you do?”, Damon chortled.

  Alaric seethed and lifted his fist with a warning at his friend. “How about I wipe that damn smirk off your face?”, then ran his hand through his hair trying his absolute best to keep his frustration in check, “Genevieve is my responsibility now.”

  Damon chuckled. “Chill, man whatever you are doing, I have your back. We’re kool.”

  Alaric nodded, glancing briefly at his best friend. Damon was a six feet tall, African American, with broad shoulders. The women would usually fight each other just to get his attention. He inhaled deeply knowing deep down that his friend would put his life on the line if necessary. Damon had proven his allegiance countless times. Norwick cleared his throat staring at his son who had propped himself with one broad shoulder against the window frame and was overlooking the span of the rich mountainous foliage surrounding their homes. “It is important that you transform her tonight. This is your only chance.”

  Alaric nodded pensively, his thumb under his chin, eyes never leaving the forest trails.

  He could hear his father approaching him, then felt the encouraging pat on the back, followed by the usual comforting words: “It is going to be fine, son.” Alaric turned to look into his father’s face. Sea blue eyes etched with tiny crow's feet stared back at him.

  Norwick’s father added, voice laced with venom: “After Genevieve is transformed we are going to pay Crinomorte an unexpected visit.”

  Alaric gave his father a curt nod then walked past him.“Right, I will ensure she transforms tonight. The Crinamortes will rue the day they crossed me.”

  Damon nodded in agreement as excitement coursed through his veins. He clapped his hands and ran his palms together cunningly. A vindictive smile curled his lips. “Finally,” he breathed. “Finally, some action!

  ***

  Alaric returned home right away. Genevieve had stayed in their room all morning. He stood there silently gazing at her overlooking the scenery from the patio. She was staring excitedly at the rocky mountains and large Pine trees. “ Make yourself at home”, he interrupted her thoughts, then walked over to their bed. Calmly, he began pulling off his shoes and loosened his tie.

  Genevieve gasped, a hand on her chest. “Alaric, you startled me, I thought I was alone.”

  She stared up at him, heart palpitating. His hair was attractively messy again, amber eyes soft with passion smothered her. Shivers of anticipation ran down her spine. Genevieve could not help but remember last night. Her cheeks heated in response. She now felt like a fool, humiliated of course. She cleared her throat to redirect her thoughts. Earlier, she had been thinking of how she would beg him to send her back home to her father. Would he reconsider his decision? Maybe they could annul the marriage. After all, she never wanted to be married.

  “No!” Alaric snapped, already reading her thoughts. His voice was harsh enough to stop Genevieve from making her request. Yet she continued. “Alaric, I am not in love with you, I miss my old home.”

  Alaric drawled. “You are home.”

  Genevieve continued to placate him. “But I don’t belong here.”

  Alaric crossed the room peeling off his shirt. “This topic is not up for discussion.”

  Genevieve heaved. She had had it. She was tired of his nonchalant behaviour towards her request. She shook her fist angrily at him. “ You bastard, I want to go home. I don’t care to be here. I hate you!”

  Alaric paused on his way to the bathroom. Fists clenched, he slowly turned to face Genevieve then hissed: “What did you say?”

  Genevieve placed her hands on her hips, she was definitely not going to shy away now. He needed to know that she meant every word and she had no intention of taking it back. She was going to say how she felt, whether he liked it or not. She opened her mouth, dragging her words.“I said…”

  In the blink of an eye, he was looming over her, his emerald amber eyes burning holes in her skin. He was angry with her, she thought dreadfully. Heart drumming, Genevieve main
tained a straight face, determined not to shrink in fear. She refused to step back, his vice-like grip biting into her tender flesh. Inwardly, she groaned.

  “I suggest you take those words back, madam.” Alaric warned under his breath.

  Genevieve’s eyes pricked with unwanted tears and her throat burned. When she finally spoke, her voice was strained: “I will not.” She stamped her feet and continued heatedly. “I hate you and I don’t want to be here anymore!”

  Haughtily, Genevieve rose her chin, her hazel eyes blazing with opposition.

  Alaric gazed back into fiery eyes then reluctantly shoved her arm to her side causing Genevieve to suck in her breath from the shock it caused through her now sore wrist. It was evident she would maintain her course of action. He sighed, then walked past her to the shower. He was burning up from all this heat. He didn’t have time for this right now. He wiped his now perspiring brow and headed towards the dressing room.

  Genevieve followed him across the room. “Didn’t you hear me? I want to go home,” she dragged her words.

  Alaric faced her again but this time, his face was red with fury. His eyes a startling emerald. He was definitely not in the mood for her ranting but Genevieve was beyond frustration. She just wanted him to listen to her. “This is no way to address me, woman. You need to take that back!”

  Genevieve puffed. “Never!”, she yelled, inwardly seething. “You are an inconsiderate, pig-headed bastard!”

  Alaric grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to the bed and shoved her not too gently over the mattress. Genevieve squealed as he turned her over on her stomach holding her firmly down with his left forearm. She continued screaming as she struggled to get on her knees. Genevieve realized in disbelief that she was trapped.

  Alaric’s aim was to teach her some respect. Even now he could hear her accelerated heartbeat. Nevertheless, he held her still. “You know what Dunkan men do to their disobedient wives?”, he whispered.