Laird of the Underworld : Book 1

by Verna Cyril

  Genevieve shuddered, grimacing. He lifted up his shirt she was wearing and exposed perfectly shaped buttocks. Genevieve tensed, then turned around just in time to see him raise his hand to slap her behind. He chuckled softly at the sight of her beautiful face scrunched up in anticipation. He brushed her hair away from her neck and gently caressed her glutes. Leaning forward, Alaric kissed both creamy cheeks. Genevieve tensed in his arms then struggled to break free.

  Alaric did not budge. “You might as well give up,” he teased her. Genevieve was breathless. “Why can’t you give up?’’, she scoffed. “I am not yours to keep and never will be.”

  Alaric muttered dauntingly: “We are married, so you might as well get used to the fact that you belong to me now.”

  Genevieve's shoulders began to shake as she silently broke into tears. My efforts were useless, she thought in defeat then let out a shaky breath as she turned to face Alaric with misty eyes. She whispered, shaking her head in disdain: “You can’t, you can’t just marry someone against their will.”

  Alaric heaved, then reluctantly let go of her. Gritting his teeth, he moved over to his side of the bed and said in a matter of a fact tone. “You said, yes.”

  Genevieve’s voice was filled with turmoil when she spoke again: “I never said yes, you did.” She wiped away the tears that were spilling down her cheeks and snorted.

  Alaric’s heart melted. “Genevieve, the vows I made were true. I promised to always protect you and treat you like the princess you are. Please just give this marriage a chance, I promise, you will learn to love me.”

  Genevieve looked back into soft amber eyes, then reluctantly tore her gaze away from his handsome profile.

  Alaric waited patiently for her to respond. Silently, he listened to her thoughts then finally, he said: “You will see your father again.” Genevieve’s beautiful face lit up. Her large cinnamon coloured eyes were now dancing with merriment and her heart raced with pure joy.

  Alaric averted her gaze, now regretting his hasty decision to please her. Frowning , he stood off the bed then clipped. “Just not now.”

  Genevieve grew faint. She searched his grim features and saw his jaw was set. There was no changing his mind. Solemnly, she turned on her side, giving him her back and stared at the crimson sky through the slits of the heavy curtains. Over and over she had wished that this was just another nightmare. She breathed, then soon she heard Alaric’s footsteps retreating from the room. She released a shaky breath then closed her eyes shut, begging for some sleep. It was evident, she thought remorsefully as she again felt a heavy lump in the back of her throat. It was evident that I will never see my father again.

  Jaw clenched, Alaric stomped out of the room. No one dared to defy him, not even the most feared men in his pack. His blood surged through his veins in blind rage. He knew he had to do something to appease his anger or else he would be hell-bent on beating her. “Mother,” he growled.

  Katherine who was sipping caviar in her very sophisticated saloon sighed. “Alaric.”

  Alaric lifted the empty glass off the kitchen counter then crushed it into pieces. “I am having a little trouble with my new wife.” he gritted. “I believe she needs to learn the customs of a Dunkan bride.”

  Katherine suddenly appeared behind him in his kitchen. Alaric turned around to face his mother, a sardonic smile splayed across her lips.

  “My dear, your father also had a hard time, getting me to …...” She cleared her throat, her amber coloured eyes darting across the room. “I suggest you be more gentle with her,” she added.

  Alaric sneered. “How much more gentle can I be?” Annoyed, he clamped his jaw then gritted tersely. “I am trying my best.”

  Katherine felt her son’s frustration. He was a strong man and had conquered everything he owned. Accepting Genevieve’s willful behaviour would definitely be a challenge. “I know that she is high spirited and again, she is not used to our traditions. Until then, my son, I plead of you, be gentle with her. It is indeed a terrifying experience to be taken away from your home and into a foreign land.”

  Alaric heaved then leaned over the kitchen island.

  “For now, I suggest you be considerate.” Katherine reminded him, then left.

  Chapter eight

  Alaric inhaled deeply into the rich caviar in his glass and propped himself against the floor to ceiling windows with a broad shoulder. He watched anxiously as the afternoon sun slipped past the horizon in his living room, then tensed. There was no telling what the Crinamortes would do to her if they found her in such a vulnerable state, he thought pensively, then slowly, made his way back to their room where she was sleeping soundly. He stood at the doorway gazing at her for a long time. She looked so peaceful. Telepathically, he woke her. Awake my wife.

  Whimpering, Genevieve stirred. Alaric knew she was dreaming. He closed the distance between them and nudged her awake.

  “Richard, no!”, she sat up, panting in cold sweat. Genevieve opened her eyes. The room was completely dark except for the blazing electric fireplace. The blackout curtains disabled any natural light coming in from the windows.

  “ Shhh....”, Alaric whispered as he sat next to her and lifted her onto his lap. “ It’s just me.” He buried her face in the crook of his neck and gently stroked her hair.

  Quietly, he read her thoughts. It was especially centered on this guy Richard. A sudden rush of jealousy coursed through his veins. “Who is he?”, Alaric snapped.

  “He? ”, Genevieve repeated groggily.

  Alaric groaned bitterly: “Richard?”

  Surprised, Genevieve inhaled sharply, her face heated in embarrassment. “It's nothing. I guess it was just a bad dream.” She leaned back on the fluffy pillows.

  Alaric fisted his hands then remembered his mother’s advice. Be gentle Alaric, be patient.

  Genevieve sighed, eyes darting across the room nervously. The urgency to flee from this dark stranger’s sight was increasing hour after hour, his company had become almost unbearable. She glanced at him sideways from where she sat against the pillow on the bed. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and white t-shirt. His chin was stubbled with new hair growth, which gave him an even more masculine and appealing look. The white t-shirt stretched attractively over his broad shoulders. She looked at him beneath her lashes approvingly. Genevieve almost screamed out loud at how her body betrayed her mind. She blushed and wet her lips. Finally, she uttered: “How long are you going to keep me here?”

  Alaric crossed his arms across his chest. “As long as you are my wife,” he muttered flippantly, a shapely eyebrow arched in arrogance.

  Genevieve winced, then watched as he got off the bed. She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she insisted:“ You are a vampire, I am a human.”

  Alaric slowly pulled his shirt above his head, his amber-coloured eyes locked with hers, quickening a burning desire between Genevieve's thighs. She flushed and her nipples grew taut under the shirt she was wearing.

  Alaric snickered fully aware of her thoughts then shrugged. “I guess I want some half-human half-demon babies running around here.”

  Genevieve dropped her gaze to her painted toenails, and gulped. Babies?, she thought, then lifted her chin, her hazel eyes blazing with contempt as she stared back at him. “I can assure you that children are not at the top of my list.'' A tiny frown creased her brow as she continued: “Do you even know anything about me?” She watched as he began to strip off the rest of his clothing. Genevieve quickly averted her eyes then cleared her throat, blushing. Alaric chuckled then crossed the room wearing only his undergarment.

  She blushed, tall, dark and handsome. Genevieve thought dreamily as she watched him disappear into the bathroom. She released her breath. She hadn’t realized she was holding it till he was gone. She had seen many attractive men in her life but Alaric was the ideal. She bit her lower lip apprehensively. Just his stare made her hot all over. She felt so inexperienced, like a child. She couldn’t help but feel like a lamb ready to b
e slaughtered by its prey. Genevieve drew a shaky breath. Of course, she blamed her father for making her so docile. She had always lived by his rules.

  Memories of her first crush flooded her mind. She sneered, but no, daddy would not let her date. Not until her last semester of high school. She scoffed as thoughts of her first date ran through her mind. Father had always ensured she was chaperoned. He had always treated her like a twelve-year-old; picking her up and dropping her off on every date with Richard. Genevieve flushed, Her father was famously known for his old school ways. She remembered clearly how he would constantly preach to her about marriage before sex. Grief overwhelmed her all over again. Her father’s last words rang through her head. Obey him and he will love you. She could not help but feel a little resentful now. Father had lied to me all this time. Had he known all along that I was supposed to marry this man. Was this why he had never let me go out and party and have fun like the other teenage girls around me? Was it because of this blasted marriage contract that he had made?Bitterly, thoughts of her as the wife of a vampire flashed through her head. Dreadful images of her stuck with this stranger, knitting by the fireplace, with a house full of babies in the middle of nowhere ran through her mind. Rage pulsed through her veins. Daddy’s perfect little girl, she thought as she dug her nails into the sheets. I always lived by his rules! Now look at me, she continued, stuck, God knows where with this pompous jerk! Genevieve nearly broke into tears again.

  Misty-eyed she watched as he returned to the bedroom, in his birthday suit.

  Genevieve drew back, eyes widened in surprise then, pretended not to care.

  Alaric was furious. Is this what she thinks of me?, he thought. That I am a threat and a pompous jerk? He yanked the sheets then landed on the mattress next to her grudgingly. He waited for her to say something, when she didn’t he hissed: “Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe I was a genuinely good guy who would just like to live a normal life also?”, he snapped. “Did you ever bother to ask anything about me?”

  Stunned, Genevieve stared back into angry emerald eyes. She remained silent.

  “I will have you know that a life of knitting by the fireplace and a house full of babies is definitely not the cup of tea for this pompous jerk.”

  Genevieve flushed.

  Inwardly seething, Alaric held her chin roughly then stared into frightened hazel coloured eyes. He muttered: “I can read your thoughts, madam.”

  Appalled, Genevieve gasped. Her cheeks a glowing red. “You can?”

  Alaric’s tone was merciless: “Yes”, he replied.

  There was a lengthy silence. Appalled, Genevieve stared into the distance. She wondered if she would have time to make it to the door. Reluctantly, she turned to face him then mumbled miserably: “I apologize.”

  Alaric sighed. He knew he had been rough with her. He mumbled: “It's ok, things happen,” then chuckled softly: “I guess we can come to a mutual understanding.” His eyes roved over her body in appraisal. A devious grin curled his lips. “How about we start by making those little green-eyed demon babies we talked about.”

  Genevieve puffed: “I think not”. She fluffed her pillow, then gave him her back. “I am exhausted.”

  Alaric’s jaw clenched. He leaned closer to his bride then smothered her with kisses from her face to her neck. “I promise it will be more pleasurable this time.”

  Genevieve’s limbs grew weak. “I think I am ok,” she protested. The deafening sound of her heart racing was enough to drive Alaric insane. She was constantly tense around him.

  He hated the fact that she feared him. He whispered in her ear: “Trust me.”

  Shivers ran down Genevieve’s spine.

  He could tell that she was uncomfortable letting her guard down, which he thought was perfectly understandable. Yet Alaric felt robbed of his right to protect her. He couldn’t live with the fact that she thought he was a threat to her. Softly, he pleaded: “Please, Genevieve.”

  Flustered, Genevieve whimpered, eyes shut tightly. She wagged her head, “I can’t, I am sorry.”

  Wounded by her honesty, even so, Alaric reached out to pull her into his arms. “Genevieve...”

  “No, I won’t”. She tossed the sheets off her and darted across the room with hands fisted at her side. “I don’t want to trust you.” she hissed, turning on her heels.

  Startled by her sudden outburst, Alaric gritted: “And where do you think you’re going?”.

  Genevieve looked over her shoulder and ignored his rising temper. She was convinced she had had enough.

  “Genevieve!”, he yelled as he watched her storm out of the room and down the staircase.

  With Alaric at her heels, She slipped into the large sitting room, breathless, Soon she was at the main entrance.

  “Stop!”, Alaric growled, his voice laced with venom.

  Outraged, she retorted: “No, I will not!”

  Alaric grunted irritably. He moved across the room with alarming speed and spun Genevieve around by the arm to face him.

  “Let go of me!”, she scoffed as he tightened his grip on her arm. “I am not yours to command, I will go wherever I damn well please!”

  Alaric pulled her closer then hesitated as his mother’s words resonated through his mind. Loathsomely, he released her, followed by a low expletive. His head was pounding. He turned away from her frightened gaze, giving her his back, his face twisted into a grimace of bitter disappointment.

  Genevieve released her breath. She stared at his broad back. Her eyes ran over him. He was shirtless with another one of those sweatpants again.

  Softly, she demanded: “I want to go home”

  Alaric let out a low guttural growl then slammed his fist on the counter, which made Genevieve flinch and her heart race. “You are home!” he said, his eyes now boring holes in her.

  Genevieve returned. “Please!”

  Alaric groaned. He was furious that she would constantly feel the need to defy his authority. “I said, no!” His voice was cold enough to make a grown man flee.

  Genevieve stiffened. She stared back into his now startling eyes. There was no more fight left in her. She held her chest as tears rolled down her face.

  Alaric knew he had broken her spirit. He had never intended to, but his bride was headstrong, with a willful personality that needed taming. He approached her and reached out to cup her face. His warm naked chest pressed against her perfectly shaped form, “Listen to me.” Genevieve grew silent, sniffling.

  “You are my wife and it is my duty to keep you safe. There are other creatures out there who would do anything to have you. Even if it means killing you,” Alaric muttered in frustration.

  Genevieve panted with a shudder. “But my father can protect me.”

  “No, he can’t”, Alaric pointed out harshly. “It was just a matter of time before they found you,” He caressed her face, “Can’t you see?” He stared into her eyes. “You are half-mortal, half-vampire, if they find you now who knows what they will do to you in such a vulnerable form, you will be hunted down and killed.”

  Genevieve gasped in disbelief. My father knew this? Disgusted, she inhaled deeply as tears continued to well down her cheeks.

  Alaric whispered angrily: “Listen, your father made the right choice by giving you up. I am the only one who can protect you.” Pensively, he wiped a tear off her cheek as a fierce desire for her overwhelmed him. He needed her, to tease her and taste her. Desperate, he locked his lips with hers in a heated kiss. Genevieve sighed as his lips lingered down her neck. Anticipation surged through his loins. He was eager to have her. In a frenzy, he lifted her petite frame into his arms and rushed over to the large rug on the hardwood floor.

  Enticed by her unique flavour and compelling beauty, he quickly planted kisses down her stomach, whispering between tiny kisses: “Promise me, promise you will never leave me.”

  Genevieve cringed, pretending not to hear him. Her heart lurched. She didn’t wish to lie but he was persistent.


  Desperate, Alaric held her face to look into her eyes. Genevieve groaned inwardly, it was like he was staring into the depths of her soul. “Promise me,” he reiterated in a whisper.

  She inhaled deeply, finally giving in.“I will never.” Impulsively, she met his lips in a passionate kiss. A soft purr escaped from the back of her throat at the feel of his hardened member penetrating her. She held onto him tightly as he gently invaded her, relishing every stroke, every touch as he began to rock inside of her excitedly. Genevieve eagerly met his thrust.

  She gasped at the feel of Alaric’s canines sinking into the flesh of her neck. Her fingernails dug into his skin as his lips met hers into a hot kiss.

  “You are mine,” he hissed as he reached his climax. Breathlessly, he ran his fingers through her hair, then slowly lifted himself up to feast on her radiant features. Alaric completed the transition, grazing his wrist and sharing his blood with her. Genevieve hesitated then partook freely. She was still shakened about him reading her thoughts, now she was even wary of thinking around him. Ridiculous , she thought. The only sure escape was to try to hide her thoughts away from him. She tensed then flushed at the feel of his weighty stare. He was staring right through her. “Are you ok?”, a lopsided smile quirked his lips.

  Genevieve’s cheeks reddened. “Never been better,” she reached for his hand.

  Alaric planted a kiss on her wrist and groaned: “You are so beautiful.” Then brushed his lips over hers. That night they made love till the break of dawn.

  Chapter nine

  Genevieve woke up that morning with a splitting headache. Wincing, she opened her eyes slowly to the beams of sunlight gleaming from the large windows. Pain shot through her left eye. The metallic taste of blood still on her lips. She whimpered. “Oh my god, why do I feel so awful?”.

  “Good morning.” Alaric entered the room whistling cheerfully with a cup of freshly grounded coffee, a morning paper in his hand.