The Shifter's Secret Baby Girl

by T. S. Ryder

  They tasted sweet. Alastair knew that he needed to feed on humans other than Avery. He preferred her healthy and strong rather than pale and weak. He had restricted his feeding to their lovemaking, feeding off his servants the rest of the time. Avery had spoiled him. Even these sweet little servants weren’t enough for him anymore. He only wanted one thing.

  “You leave for The Sands in a fortnight. How are the preparations going?” his father asked.

  “Well,” Alastair said with a nod. “My men are eager to get back out into the field. They are still drunk on their success from the last battle at the borders. It made them all wealthy men, and now they are eager for more.”

  “Good,” his father said as he watched the servants pull up their dresses and leave. Once they were alone, his manner changed. He relaxed back in his chair and gave his son a mischievous grin. “Will you bring your new favorite human with you?”

  Alastair was shocked. He stared at his father wondering how the old man had heard. He had struggled so hard to keep Avery his secret. She was always in his rooms. Occasionally she would go stir crazy and beg to go out into the streets, so on those days he would dress her as a servant and Sir Reese would sneak her in and out of the palace.

  “There are no secrets in the palace,” his father said with a chuckle. “Trying to keep one is a fool's errand. I’ll be honest, my boy. I was surprised to hear she was still here. Normally you grow bored after a few days.

  “She’s different,” Alastair said. This was the last thing he wanted to discuss with his father, yet he could not deny the wisdom of the King. He was the only person who knew what Alastair was going through.

  “Do you love her?” the King asked.

  “I do,” Alastair said quietly. “She is the only thing that I want.”

  His father nodded and reached down underneath his chair and pulled up an elaborately carved box. The box was made of deep dark wood with a delicate rose carved in the top. Alastair opened the box and saw a stunning piece of jewelry. It was a necklace, worn high up on the throat. There was a large red gemstone in the center, surrounded by diamonds on gold chains.

  “The Flower of the Court,” his father said. “No has worn it since Alisia passed. Give it to your human.”

  “I thought the flower was only for vampires,” Alastair said staring down at the expensive jewels beneath him. He ran his hands over the hard gemstone and imagined himself placing it upon Avery’s neck.

  His father waved his hand away. “The Flower of the Court is given at the discretion of the King, or the Crown Prince. It is a marker that the woman who wears it is favored by royalty. No one will touch her. She may come and go as she pleases. That’s what this was made for. Human or vampire, she brings you joy. Ours is a difficult role, you should enjoy the few pleasures given to you.”

  “Myrcel will not be pleased. She is already unhappy about Avery,” Alastair continued. It felt strange to speak her name in front of his father. She had been his secret, but soon everyone would know her. She would have status and she could come to dinners and events. She would be protected.

  “Myrcel is never pleased and she bares you no sons. A woman should not make her bed an icy chamber. It should be kept warm and sweet for her husband. But when your human wears this, she will be untouchable, even by the Princess,” the King shook his head and stared out over the sea. “You and Myrcel were a logical union. It does not surprise me that there is no love there. I was the one who yoked the two of you together. Now I give you this, that you may experience happiness and love. Make it known that she is yours. Claim her, love her.”

  “Thank you, father,” Alastair said.

  He carried the heavy box back to his chambers, tracing his hand over the rose carved into the lid. He remembered his father’s Flower of the Court, a stunning vampire named Alisia. She had been kind and sweet. In fact, his mother had been fond of Alisia, the courtesan took pressure off of the Queen.

  There was no chance Myrcel would feel the same way. But a Flower was the King’s right and Myrcel would have no choice but to accept it.

  Was it possible that Avery was growing more beautiful? She seemed even shapelier than she had before. Her breasts seemed bigger and there was a glow about her face that could not be denied. She sat up when he entered, her eyes wide.

  “How is your father?” she asked.

  “Well,” he answered. She was on the bed and he sat down next to her presenting the heavy box. “I have a gift for you.”

  She looked down at the box and then up at him. Even after all of this time, she never asked for or expected extravagant gifts. He could not help but reach out and caress her cheek.

  “The gift is inside the box,” he said with a gentle chuckle. “Open it.”

  Her eyes went wide and she gasped, placing her hand on her hollow of her throat as she stared at the jewels. He could see the shining red rubies reflected in her grey eyes. She shook her head.

  “It is too much, My Lord,” her voice was a gasping breath as she looked between him and jewels over and over again as if she couldn’t believe it.

  “You have not called me My Lord in a long time,” he said as he removed the elaborate necklace. “Let’s not fall back on old habits. This is not just any ordinary necklace. This is only worn by The Flower of the Court.” She looked up at him in confusion. “The Flower of the Court is the title of the King or Crown Prince’s official mistress. It protects her. It allows her to go anywhere she wishes in the castle. My father gave it to me. He knows about you and he approves. This is yours now. You are my flower and now everyone will know it.”

  “But what about...” it was as if she couldn’t say the name.

  “You need not worry about Myrcel. She knows what this means and she has no power over it.”

  She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “It’s too much. I don’t deserve this.”

  “Yes, you do,” he said. He stood up and moved behind her. He brushed her hair aside and leaned down and kissed her, feeling her heartbeat and warmth beneath his lips. He placed the necklace on her, wrapping it around her throat and clasping it at the back of her neck.

  She touched the gems with her fingers, parting her lips in the most evocative way.

  “Avery,” he said sitting back down in front of her and taking her hands in his. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she said and she leaned towards him. He kissed her deeply, feeling the necklace underneath his hands when he touched her.

  “My flower,” he whispered into her ear.

  She pulled away from him and opened her mouth as if to say something, but then she just shook her head and pulled him into a hard hug. She clung to him, her hands clutching him and holding him tightly as if she would never let him go.

  “I love you,” she whispered over and over again as he kissed the crown of her head.

  This was so perfect. This was so right. After Myrcel, he never thought he would experience love. He thought his life would be filled with her cold bed and the occasional night at a brothel. Now he had this wonderful warm woman in his arms and he was never letting her go.

  Chapter Ten

  Avery couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. The necklace Alastair had given her was the most expensive thing she had ever seen and now she was actually wearing it around as if it were nothing. It glittered and shone in the light. She turned her head this way and that admiring her glamorous reflection.

  She still hadn’t worn it outside of the rooms. She knew that was the whole point, but she was too scared of Myrcel and her brother’s threats. She didn’t know what to do about it. She should tell Alastair, but she wasn’t ready for him to know of the prophecy. It would change everything. She would no longer be his simple human companion, but something else, something bigger. Her life and the life of her baby would be out of her control.

  She placed her hands on her belly. If this baby was the fulfillment of the prophecy, it would always be in danger. Even inside of her. She loved the l
ittle thing more than she ever could have imagined. She would have done anything to protect it. She didn’t care about the prophecy, she cared about her baby. But she would be the only one who did.

  Alastair would soon be leaving on his expedition to The Sands. She had begged him to take her along. She knew how to survive long journeys and she would help, not be in the way. He finally agreed, but if he knew she was pregnant, he would never let her go. He would make her stay here. She would be trapped in the palace run by a princess who hated her, she would be alone and unsafe.

  There had been pregnant women on the caravan. They had survived and given birth to healthy babies. Avery could do the same. By the time she was showing, they would be halfway there and it would be too dangerous to send her back alone.

  She just needed to make it to their departure. They left in twelve days. She just needed to keep the pregnancy a secret, stay away from the Queen and avoid her brother for twelve days and then everything would be alright. Twelve more days.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Enter,” Avery said, quickly removing the necklace and putting it back in the box. It was too much, too fine. She wasn’t ready to be seen in it.

  A servant entered the room, a tall, strong female vampire. Avery looked at her in confusion. She carried nothing in her hands other than a long black piece of cloth. “What are you doing here?” Avery asked.

  The vampire gave her a cruel smile and then suddenly she was advancing. She was terribly fast and strong. In a moment, the black fabric was over Avery’s head and she was being wrapped up in it. She screamed, but the fabric muffled her voice. In mere moments she was trapped, her arms pinned to her sides.

  She struggled as hard as she could, but it was no use. She was confined in the fabric and the strong arms of the woman. She was lifted off her feet and tossed over the vampire’s shoulder. They made a left-hand turn at the door and then they were hurrying somewhere.

  “Help! Let me go! Someone help!” Avery struggled, but it was in vain. She fought as hard as she could, but it was futile. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew who had her. Myrcel. It had to be. She thought of the little thing growing inside of her. Did Myrcel know? What was she going to do? Why hadn’t she told Alastair? If only she had told him, he would have protected her. How long was he going to be gone? How long would it take for someone to know she was missing?

  They were going down, she could feel as they descended a steep set of stairs. The dungeon, that was where they were taking her. Down and down they went as the air around her grew cold and damp. She could hear someone far off moaning in pain.

  Finally, they reached level ground. The vampire took a few steps and then threw Avery roughly onto the cold, wet floor where she was unraveled from the fabric until finally she was free.

  Gasping for breath she looked around the dark cell. It smelled terrible, like stagnant water and human waste. The three stone walls were wet and cold, the fourth wall was iron bars. The vampire that had grabbed her, slammed the door and laughed at her from the other side.

  “Why are you doing this?” Avery screamed. She jumped up and raced toward the bars, but there was nothing she could do but weakly pull at them.

  “Human whore,” the woman said her face in a nasty sneer. “You’re getting exactly what you deserve.”

  “I demand you release me. I am the Flower of the Court to the Crown Prince Alastair Thorne. I share his bed and I am protected by him.”

  The woman scoffed and said. “Look how far his protection has got you.”

  “He’ll know I’m missing. He’ll come looking for me.”

  “It will be far too late when he does,” the vampire said as she nodded behind Avery. That sick, twisted smile appeared again.

  There was something behind her. Taking a deep breath, Avery turned around slowly. In the far back corner of her cell was a body, next to it a large sack overflowing with gold coins. The body was slumped over and clearly dead. She moved slowly towards it.

  She toed the corpse and it fell over.

  She couldn’t scream. It got trapped in her throat, her mouth was open, her eyes wide. She was screaming and screaming, but no sound came out. It was her brother. It was Tristan. It looked like something had ripped his throat open. His body was pale save for the huge red gash across his throat.

  “I was almost impressed with his arrogance,” Avery recognized the cold voice of Myrcel instantly. “He tried to blackmail me. Can you believe it? This peasant dressed as a guard. I laughed right in his face. He didn’t like that, fortunately, he didn’t live long in his anger.”

  Avery turned and looked at the tall beautiful Vampire Princess. Even here, in this dungeon, she was stunning. Her long blond hair was perfectly arranged and her clothes were the finest Avery had seen. But always there was that snide expression on her face.

  “I want you to know something,” Myrcel said slowly. Her eyes never leaving Avery’s. “You are nothing. You are not special. You are not going to bear a great hybrid King. You are a whore and a plaything. Alastair can put all the fancy jewelry he wants on you. It changes nothing. I am his wife. I will bear his heir, not some human slut.”

  “You think he would return to you after hearing about this?” Avery demanded. “He loves me. He hates you. If he finds out you’ve touched me his vengeance will be swift and fierce.”

  “Yes, if that were the case. But Alastair will hear of none of this. What he will hear is that you attempted to escape with your brother, a bag full of his treasures in your hands. You were found by the guards and you tried to run, but took a terrible fall. The palace is filled with my allies. I will have witnesses to confirm it.”

  “He won’t believe you,” Avery said.

  “He will have no choice but to believe me. I will have all the proof and you will be nothing more than a messy smear on the ground. Don’t worry little human, he will not mourn long. He has had many playthings before you and he will have many after you are gone. In a few years, you will be nothing more than a hazy, distant memory and my son will take the throne. Everything is falling into place now. Enjoy these last few moments, human. Death is coming for you.”

  She turned and walked away. Panic flooded Avery’s veins. She needed to do something. She struggled at the bars, but they were built into the walls. She searched the bag, hoping for something to use as leverage, but there was only the soft and malleable gold.

  She took a deep breath and turned over her brother’s body hoping he had some tool on him. His skin was cold and she tried her best to avoid looking at the huge gash on his neck. But his pockets were empty. She was trapped.

  Forlornly she touched her belly. A smear on the pavement. That was her destiny. She would never give birth to the human vampire hybrid that would reunite the Kingdoms.

  Chapter Eleven

  He opened his doors and was surprised that Avery wasn’t waiting for him. He had got used to her always being there. But now that she wore the Flower she could come and go as she pleased. He took off his jacket and his boots and moved over to his table, looking for a correspondence. There on the table was the carved box the flower came in.

  He smiled when he looked at it, it would bring Avery safety. But as he looked at the box, something shone from the corner, so he reached over and flipped the top up. The necklace was inside, one of the strands hanging out a little bit.

  Why wasn’t she wearing it? If she left his chambers without it, there was no protection for her. Something twinged in the back of his head. His instincts were that of a warrior and he knew to trust them.

  “Avery!” he shouted. He raced around his rooms, checking everywhere, but there was no sign of her. She wasn't here. Where was she? What had happened? There was no sign of struggle, nothing overturned, no clue of what might have happened to her.

  Myrcel, it had to be. There was no one else who hated Avery. Even his father approved of the human.

  Storming down the hallway he raced to Myrcel’s rooms, throwing open
the door. A maid went scurrying away. But he was too fast for her. He grabbed the girl and held her fast.

  “Where is your mistress?” Alastair demanded. She cried out and shook her head back and forth. “Do not make me ask you again.”

  “Dungeon,” the girl whispered and he dropped her and raced down the hallway. Every step seemed to take an eternity. It felt like he was trying to run through water. This was a nightmare. One where he couldn’t get where he needed to go fast enough. It felt like miles between him and the dungeons.

  He raced down the stairs two at a time and found the dungeon master. He grabbed him by the throat and pushed him back against the cold walls.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  “Who, My Lord?” the dungeon master said. His voice choked as Alastair tightened his grip. “Lie to me and there will be no end to the suffering I bring to you.”

  “Please, My Lord. The Princess, she threatened my daughters-”

  “Where are they!?” Alastair screamed.

  “The lowest level, My Lord,” the dungeon master answered. Alastair threw him against the walls and raced down. Guards got out of their way as he passed, their mouths hanging open.

  “Come with me,” he ordered and they all fell in line behind him.

  The lowest level, they raced down to the deepest dungeon. This was where they put the real criminals. The ones who they made suffer as much as they could. It was no place for his soft human. She would never survive down there. The door was locked, but one of the guards had a key. He quickly opened it and then stepped into his own fetid dungeon.

  “Avery!” he screamed.

  “Alastair!” the call was far away. It echoed around the dungeons.

  “Find her,” Alastair ordered and the men scattered and began racing through the jail. He called her name again, but there was no answer. Someone must have her and they must be covering her mouth with their hand. The thought enraged him. He would kill that person and rip out their throat with his teeth.