Kidnapped By The Vampire Prince (BBW Paranormal Romance)

by T. S. Ryder

  Overnight his men worked on the camp. They kept the best of the caravans and burned the rest. The women who decided to stay were put into one cart. Sir Reese chose a young girl named Theresa to take care of Avery. She fed the pale woman freshly cooked rabbit and a large glass of water. By morning, Avery’s color had almost completely returned. There was a pink flush to her cheeks and chest, as she remained asleep in Alastair’s bed. He was constantly turning around and staring at her as he attempted to work. He found resisting the urge to touch her was a constant struggle.

  “What’s happening?” she mumbled as Alastair pulled her to her feet. She was still half-asleep and groggy, her eyes barely open. The pale sun was just appearing over the mountains.

  “My men and I are done here, now we return to the Red Castle on the Sea,” Alastair said to her. He held her against him to help her walk. Her heart was thumping in her chest and the sound reverberated through his body. He leaned down and smelled her hair, resisting the urge to kiss the crown of her head. Every time he was close to her body he felt a primal drive to remove her clothes piece by piece, but he restrained himself. He needed to let her recover fully.

  “Now we shall travel to the coast and board our ships. We will be in Varlyn within a week,” he smiled as he put her in a bed in the back of the best caravan. He made sure she was comfortable before closing the door and mounting his horse.

  He rode out in front of the caravan, leading the way. He would have rather ridden with Avery, but Alastair wasn’t an old man. He wasn’t going to ride in a caravan with the women. It would make him look weak. Still, his resolve was not so strong. He could not stop his eyes from travelling to the caravan where Avery slept. He imagined her sleeping form—naked on the furs. The thought forced him to adjust himself on his saddle.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He longed to feel the steady drumbeat of her heart and to bask in the warmth of her body. He wanted to watch her breathe and trace his fingers along her cheek and collarbone.

  His first and only night with her, Alastair had lost control. He had come so close to killing her. Only foolish vampires killed humans when they drank from them. It was better to keep them alive, leaving open the option to come back for more. But she had tasted too good. She felt so right in his arms. Waiting was a torture, but he knew she wouldn’t survive if he fed from her now.

  He wanted to stop the caravan and go to her. There were a hundred warriors and dozens of captives as well as the wagons trailing behind him filled with bounty. He would have brought it all to a screeching halt for just a few drops of the woman waiting for him. That was what a foolish, prideful Lord would have done. But Alastair was smarter and better disciplined than that.

  On this expedition, he had captured gold, gems and weapons. He had secured the disputed borders and killed the nomads who had been stealing from local villages. Peace had been restored. But in his heart, he knew that none of that compared to his new human captive. Avery was the real prize. Alastair couldn’t wait to show her his splendid palace with its gorgeous rooms. He would have a dressmaker come and make anything she wanted. He would drape her in gold and jewels solely for the pleasure of removing them. He would have her whenever he wanted.

  And what of Myrcel? A small voice in his head asked. Myrcel was his wife. He tried not to think of her. They had been engaged when they were both five years old and married when they turned sixteen. Theirs was a political union, almost doubling the lands under his father’s rule.

  For ten years they had been married. Ten long miserable years. She hated him. She hated his touch and his embrace. She wanted nothing to do with him. They sat together at political functions and once a month he went to her bedchamber as was required. But neither of them enjoyed it and still she bore him no sons.

  He would have to keep his new human woman away from his wife. He would keep Avery a secret from Myrcel. He would protect this frail human from his bitter princess. He had to. He wasn’t willing to give Avery up.

  Chapter Four

  She continued to sleep. It seemed at times that she could barely keep her eyes open. Sitting up was exhausting and eating drained all of her strength. The bite marks on her neck were sore, but she was alive. More than that, she was well-cared for and well-fed.

  Avery had only the vaguest memory of getting on the ship. She smelled the salt in the air and heard the cry of the gulls, but then she was in a hammock and sleep overcame her. They traveled for five days and nights on the boat as her strength slowly returned. By the fifth day, she felt almost totally recovered.

  As the great city of Varlyn came into view, Avery took to the stern of the ship with the other women. The cold ocean wind whipped her hair around. Slowly the spires and towers of Varlyn could be seen as they passed the huge battleships bearing the seal of King Granzen Thorne.

  The city was huge and buildings crowded the shore. They were all built practically on top of each other. They towered high into the sky, shading the streets below them. Flowers grew from window boxes and in elaborate gardens. They passed a crowded market where fish sellers and furriers peddled their wares.

  And then, the castle came into view. It was magnificent. It was so huge with hundreds of windows lining the parapets and four high towers at every corner. Guards paced the ramparts as small figures hurried here and there. The flags of Granzen Thorne flapped proudly in the wind.

  There was a huge crowd waiting for the ship. Hundreds of vampires and humans stood in the streets and cheered as the ship came in. Sir Reese ordered Avery to wait below deck. She would not be part of the ceremonial parade. She would instead go straight to the palace to wait for Alastair.

  Was that good or bad? Avery had no idea. All she knew was that she was happy to not be paraded down the street. But what might be waiting for her at the palace? According to Theresa, Alastair was not a cruel man. But he had almost killed Avery and even though he had spent the last few days bringing her back to health, she still didn’t quite know what to make of him.

  The King arrived and a hush fell over the crowd. Through a crack in the boards of the ship, Avery watched as everyone fell to one knee. Granzen Thorne ascended the gangplank and embraced his son. The crowd cheered. The sound was deafening as the spoils of Alastair’s battles were displayed for all the people.

  Avery was quickly secreted into a carriage. The windows were closed and shades pulled down. Silently and under the cover of darkness, she travelled up the steep hill to the palace. She was not permitted to look out through the curtains. Sir Reese travelled with her. When they left the carriage, he placed a heavy veil over her face so no one could see her.

  When the veil was removed, Avery found herself in a suit of opulent rooms. The floors were covered in a thick carpet and elaborate draperies softened the hard stone walls. There was a huge soft looking four-poster bed in the center of the room. A fire roared in the fireplace and Avery warmed her hands over it. There was a basin filled with water next to soft towels and a soap that smelled of lavender. She walked to one window and looked out to a stunning view of the sea.

  Where was Alastair? What was she supposed to do with herself? She could guess why he had brought her here. She knew that he had enjoyed drinking from her that first night. Maybe that’s all he wanted from her—food.

  She paced around the room. She touched the marble mantelpiece and smelled the fresh flowers in a vase. She ran her hands over the rich tapestries on the walls and the heavy curtains that ran around the large bed. The bed intimidated her. Would she be brought to it? Would she fight him if she was?

  Finally, the door opened and she fell to her knees. There was a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. He was dangerous, powerful and handsome and she still hadn’t sorted out the feelings she had for him. She was his captive, she should have hated him, but she felt exactly the opposite, she was excited to see him again.

  She looked up hopefully, but instead of seeing the strong, chiseled jaw of Alastair Thorne, she saw a haughty woman. She was tall and
thin, pale with long blond hair twisted into spirals that cascaded around her shoulders. She was wearing the most beautiful dress Avery had ever seen. It was black and fit her slim form perfectly. Her face wore an unpleasant expression, as if she had just smelled something foul.

  “Do you know who I am, peasant?” the woman demanded. She spoke in a short clipped voice, her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked down at Avery in disgust.

  “No, My Lady,” Avery said with a shake of her head. What was happening? Was she not going to be with Alastair? Was she instead going to be a gift to this horrible woman? The thought made her ill.

  “I am the Crown Princess of Varlyn, wife of Alastair Thorne,” she proceeded to rattle off her long list of titles, but Avery had stopped listening after the word wife. Of course the Crown Prince had a wife. Avery knew that, everyone knew that. She had just allowed herself to forget. Avery knew nothing of Myrcel besides her name. Rumor had it she didn’t leave the palace that often.

  “Why were you not with the rest of the parade? Why were you brought here?” the Princess asked. She had not given Avery permission to stand and so she remained on her knees.

  “I do not know, My Lady,” Avery said.

  The woman reached down and grabbed Avery’s hair roughly, pushing her head aside to reveal the two small red dots on her neck. It was the only thing that remained of Alastair’s touch. The woman traced her hands over the wounds and then roughly pulled Avery to her feet.

  The Princess was tall and she towered over Avery, looking at Avery in disgust, she glared at her full breasts and thick thighs.

  “Why would a fat thing like you be brought to the palace in secret?” she asked. Avery could guess this was a question she wasn’t expected to answer.

  The Princess shook her head and then pulled Avery close. “Humans like you disgust me,” she hissed. “You are weak and soft, built to feed us and nothing more. Were it up to me we would keep the humans in cages like you keep cows. You would be our food. Born to breed and be devoured, nothing more.”

  She tightened her grip on Avery’s hair and jerked her head back exposing Avery’s pale throat. She licked her lips and Avery, understanding what was about to happen, struggled to free herself. It was too late. Myrcel descended on her, biting savagely into her neck, reopening the old wounds.

  Avery fought against it as hard as she could, but the venom entered her system and made her slow and sluggish. She pushed weakly against the Vampire Princess, and let out a weak cry, but this just made the woman bite down harder.

  Almost immediately she went weak as again her blood was pulled from her body. The Princess was rough as her fangs dug into her flesh, cutting and scarring her as she greedily gulped Avery’s essence.

  Everything was fuzzy and far away. There was a roaring in her ears and her heartbeat was slowing, she felt terribly cold. She was aware that she was dying and the Vampire Princess showed no interest in stopping. Suddenly, the door slammed open and with a roar she was pulled away from Myrcel. Stunned, confused and weak, Avery fell back onto the soft carpet, landing on her back. She struggled for breath as blood trickled down her neck.

  “What are you doing?” It was the voice of Alastair. Through her half-closed eyes, she could see his tall, strong form. His fangs were bared and he positioned himself between his wife and his conquest. His hands were balled into fists and he seemed to be on the verge of launching himself at his wife.

  “I was feeding, husband dear,” Myrcel said. There was blood on her lips and she licked it off with relish. “Were you not going to share your treat with me?”

  “No,” Alastair said. “I did not intend for you to see her. After all, it has been years since you have set foot in my chambers,” disgust dripped from his voice.

  “Why would I come in here when you permit it to be infected with this trash? She’s a human, Alastair. She should be fed upon and then left, not brought to your home. I know your disgusting tastes, I just thought you would have the decency to keep it out of our home,” Myrcel said. Her voice was low. She descended upon Alastair like a snake. Avery wanted to warn him to be careful, but she had lost her voice. She was far too weak and could barely lift her head off the floor.

  “These desires of yours are shameful,” Myrcel continued, “I was getting rid of her. I was doing you a favor.”

  “I know what comes from your favors,” Alastair said. He took his wife by the shoulders and pulled her close. “Do not involve yourself in my affairs. Do not ever come here again,” he warned and then he released Myrcel. With a final hiss in Avery’s direction, she stomped out of the room.

  Chapter Five

  He pulled her to her feet and helped her to the bed. He brushed her hair aside and then he licked the trail of blood off her neck. He licked and sucked every last drop that had stained her skin. She didn’t fight him. Instead, she turned her head to the side and a soft moan fell from her lips. Alastair struggled to control himself as he tasted her alabaster neck. He could feel the thump of her heart on his tongue, her blood made him salivate. He bared his fangs, but stopped short of piercing her skin.

  “I’m so very confused,” Avery said weakly as her eyes grew heavy.

  “I know,” Alastair answered, his hand took hers and he squeezed. “Sleep now. I will answer your questions in the morning.”

  He drank blood from a chalice and watched her sleep. Her dress slipped, revealing her bare shoulder and he traced his hand along it, all the way to her neck. Her wonderful, soft neck. The sound of her breath was like music.

  She woke the next day and was able to walk around. Sitting up in bed, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and looked at him sheepishly.

  “Good morning,” he smiled. A plate of food had been set out for her and she dug into it with relish, biting into the eggs and tearing the bread with her teeth. Her every movement captivated him. He could have easily sat and watched her all day.

  “Good morning, My Lord,” she replied.

  He walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down next to her. “I apologize for the Princess’s actions the other day. I had intended to keep you a secret here for your protection, but you must be very careful in the palace. There are spies everywhere and Myrcel is not pleased. But I don’t want you to worry,” he said, cupping her cheek with his hand. “I am the Crown Prince and I will let no one harm you.”

  She nodded and smiled up at him, before returning to her food. “What are you doing, My Lord?” she asked nodding towards his table covered in maps and scrolls.

  “Working,” he said with a shrug. “Managing a kingdom is a heavy burden.”

  With a blanket draped around her shoulders, she stood and walked over to the table. He wanted her to get back into bed. Her skin was still pale and there were bruises under her eyes. She swayed when she stood up, taking a moment to gather her balance.

  She stood over the table and traced her delicate human finger over the roads through The Sands. The Sands were the southernmost part of the Kingdom. Most of it was desert, but there were valuable mines that had added to his father’s wealth.

  “Your map is out of date, My Lord,” she said tilting her head to the side. He stood up and walked to stand next to her. She was so close he could smell her sweet, human scent. He wanted to kiss her, to gather her up in her arms.

  “What do you mean?” he asked as he stared down at the maps. “My father’s mapmaker was just there last season to update the maps. He personally travelled down each of these roads and made these reports.”

  She gave him a knowing look and said, “Did he actually do it? Or did he just take the money and say he did it? The roads of The Sands are long and harsh. We travelled through them last summer. It was horrible. Just the desert as far as the eye could see. It was sweltering during the day and freezing at night. We did not have enough water to bathe or cook properly. It took us weeks to get through it,” Avery shuddered at the memory, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

  “This ro
ad here,” she said pointing to a narrow lane that wove around a tall mountain, “is impassable. There must have been a mudslide or something, as the road is blocked by giant boulders. It took us four hours to go around them.”

  He watched her finger as it moved over the map. He leaned down over the map with her. Her face and neck only inches from his mouth. He could not stop himself, he brought his hand up and placed it on her lower back, letting it rest there.

  “There’s another road here,” she said, pointing farther north. “It’s not on your map, but it’s controlled by bandits. They demanded seven gold pieces to let us pass. My father-” she stopped suddenly and pulled her hand away from the map, pulling herself in and holding the blanket tighter.

  “Your father what?” Alastair asked. He did not want her to stop speaking. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know that she didn't hate him for killing her father.

  She shook her head and took a deep shaky breath, “We were pooling our money together to pay them. Everyone was putting in an equal share. But my father didn’t want to, he resented it. He...he offered them me instead.”

  Anger rose in his chest. It was a furious, righteous anger. If only he had known, he would have made the man suffer more. He hadn’t deserved such a quick end. He deserved pain and then even more pain until he finally broke.

  “Thank the Gods the men had a harem at their camp,” she said, her voice catching in her throat as she struggled to keep from crying. “They weren’t interested in me. I paid my father’s share instead and we were allowed to pass.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alastair said. He tightened his grip on her and slowly pulled her towards him until she was facing him. A tear slipped down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. “You needn’t fear him anymore. He’s dead and you are safe with me.”

  “Am I?” she asked, her grey eyes staring into his. “Why am I here?”