Hidden Realms

by Unknown

  The music restarted and slowly, the chattering began again. Whatever grand entrance this prince had made was done and the party resumed. Still, no one approached me and I shuffled to the fringes, trying to decide what to do next. Voices swirled around me. Sheridan had given up on her argument and sat at a table in hushed conversation with the wrinkled old man beside her. Thill, they’d called him. Snippets of conversations reached me. I ignored most of them but one comment in particular caught my attention.

  “I can’t believe Regan is going to have to marry that monster. Maybe she can kill him when he falls asleep on their wedding night.”

  I searched through the small huddles of guests until I found the speaker. She had light-brown hair, shoulder length, and a pointy chin. Her eyes were the same exact shade of green as Carter’s. I remember seeing them sitting together behind us at the council meeting. I assumed this must be Bevin, Carter’s sister; the one who planned on helping Regan train for the competition.

  “Dummy. Vamps don’t sleep,” said the girl beside her. She was small and slender and had her hair cut shorter than Bevin’s, in a pixie cut.

  Bevin snorted. “That explains the dark circles under their eyes.”

  I turned back to the front before they could notice me listening in. I kept my expression carefully neutral and stared down at my hands. The sureness in Bevin’s voice sparked anger in me. She was acting like it wasn’t even a question that Regan would win and become the alpha.

  What about me? I had a chance. It might be small compared to her. I might not have the fighting skills or hunting skills she did (the thought of killing and eating something in my wolf form made me want to gag), but it was possible. Or it could be. If I wanted it.

  And for some reason, the knowledge that I’d been so easily counted out had awakened competitiveness inside me I hadn’t known was there. After what Regan said earlier, I couldn’t bring myself to entertain the idea of forfeiting any longer, but I refused to be cast out of the running so easily. I could at least put up a fight, show them I should be taken seriously.

  If I was ever going to belong somewhere, Paradise was it.

  I made a decision. I would learn to fight. And hunt. And I would find out everything I could about leading a pack. If it meant I had to marry this Owen guy, I’d do it. No more daydreaming about a friendly vampire in the woods. I would be loyal only to my pack and somehow, I’d earn their loyalty back.

  I was a Vuk. It was time I acted like it.

  “I’m going to go find a drink,” I said to no one in particular and stomped off.

  There wasn’t a drop of alcohol in the clearing. It was all apple cider and punch. Punch? In a gathering of werewolves? I couldn’t believe it. I would have been much more prepared to find glasses of blood or something for the vampires.

  I found a mostly unoccupied buffet table and stationed myself next to it, snacking on grapes and scanning the crowd. Everyone who passed gave me a hard look but I ignored them. What was I supposed to do? Wave to the crowd like the Queen of England?

  “Why is such a beautiful creature standing all alone?”

  I whirled at the familiar voice. The vampire I had met at the clearing had somehow materialized at my back. I hadn’t even seen him arrive to the party. He had been dark and handsome the last time I saw him, but it was nothing compared to the way he looked now. He wore a black suit cut close to the lines of his body that accentuated his slim figure. A brush of hair fell over his eyes—I tried not to dwell on his red irises. Heavy gold rings marked his fingers, the kind of jewelry that was passed down through generations of family. The only splash of color in his suit was a crimson tie. Definitely dressed to impress.

  “You! What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same of you,” he said, circling me slowly. I could feel him behind me even when I couldn’t see him, like he was trailing a hand along my back. I closed my eyes and shivered, ignoring my wolf as it warned me not to turn my back on my new friend.

  “Don’t you know this is a dangerous gathering?” His voice came from my left but still, I pretended to be unconcerned and stared ahead.

  “It’s supposed to be a party,” I said.

  “You don’t believe that, do you?”

  I shook my head. When I opened my eyes, he was standing right in front of me, his chin tilted as he studied me, and it was all I could do to keep breathing. His eyes glimmered. But this time, the red had nothing to do with my fascination. Instead, my attention caught on the way they were focused on my lips.

  I couldn’t help it. I had to touch the arm of his suit. It was spun from fine silk, and I was willing to bet I had never touched anything so expensive in my life. Slowly, I reached out a tentative hand and let my fingers brush along the silky fabric. The moment I did, my senses seemed to come awake and I jerked my hand back as my cheeks heated in a blushed.

  The vampire was looking at the place I touched him, but now a few others were watching. I didn’t have to look up to know. I felt it just like I’d felt him. My wolf growled inside me, warning me just what it was that watched us.

  “This is a mistake,” I whispered.

  His hand brushed my chin. “The party, or…?”

  “All of it,” I said quickly.

  “You have no clue how much I agree, darling,” he murmured. His hungry gaze raked down my body. “You look beautiful.”

  My cheeks heated, but instead of retreat, I planted my heeled feet and stood my ground. I’m a Vuk, I reminded myself. I couldn’t run away from my first vamp encounter, especially in front of so many onlookers. “You look pretty good too,” I said, forcing my voice light and uncaring. “So how are you related to the family anyway? You’re not with those uptight royals, are you?” I turned my nose up in obvious distaste.

  His laughter rang out like the chime of bells. It was surprisingly pleasant and lit up his face. “Uptight royals, hmm? I like that. I’m with them, but believe me when I say it’s not by choice.”

  “Yeah, we can’t choose our family,” I muttered, shooting a glance at my dad. He was in the middle of a tense conversation with the vampire king and queen, but all of their eyes were trained on me. I shivered as the strange vampire leaned in, either unaware or uncaring of our audience.

  “No matter how much we wish we could,” he added softly.

  Our eyes connected. I recognized that expression of distress and resignation. For the second time since I had been abducted to Paradise, I felt like someone understood me.

  Our fingers touched. His eyes widened with surprise—but not displeasure.

  Oh man, what was I doing? That was on the wrong side of the line between flirting and friendly. Considering I was supposed to be at an engagement party—maybe even my own engagement party—I should not have been sharing flirty compliments with anyone. Especially not the enemy.

  I took a step back, but that was as far as I got before the music shifted, signaling something happening up front.

  I turned just in time to see Sheridan climb onto the stage. She strode to the center where a microphone had been placed, a perfect smile on her lips. “A toast!” she said, lifting her glass of sparkling cider. “Could we get Prince Owen and the sisters up here? Please?”

  People turned to look at me. A dozen faces stared with expectation, some moonlight pale, some tan and familiar.

  The sisters. That included me. Right.

  I squared my shoulders, taking a deep breath to try to slow my racing heart. The vampire walked me to the stage, and the crowd parted for us, letting me step through without having to bump any shoulders. I kept my eyes open for this horrible vampire prince I was supposed to marry. If he looked anything like his father—severe, austere, and scary as all get out—he wouldn’t be hard to pick from the crowd.

  My new friend gave me a hand up on stage. I took it, though only to avoid the commentary if I’d refused. I gave him a look that hopefully conveyed Go Away! before turning away from him and making my way toward Sheridan. The lights were so
bright that they warmed my shoulders immediately. I pumped my hands open and closed as my palms clammed up.

  I stepped into line, shoulder to shoulder with Regan and felt someone brush up beside me on my left. I looked over and froze.

  My vampire stranger stood beside me, his attention on the crowd. No one said anything about it and I realized with slow, frigid awareness that he was here because he was supposed to be. And suddenly, everything about him was commanding. He faced the crowd with a charismatic smirk, opening his arms wide. “Thank you so much for having me here,” he said into the microphone.

  I flinched—an icy shiver rocking through me as I understood but struggled to find a reason to be wrong.

  “No way,” I whispered.

  As if I’d spoken only to him, my vampire turned and winked at me before continuing his formal hello and offering up a toast to the crowd. All I could do was stand and listen, numb, as I went through the motions of raising my glass and sipping appropriately to my own—or Regan’s—impending marriage.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  The friend I’d made in the forest—my vampire—was the evil, scary, monstrous Prince Owen.

  The story continues in Bitterroot: Part 2 available now.

  About the Author

  Heather Hildenbrand was born and raised in a small town in northern Virginia where she was homeschooled through high school. (She’s only slightly socially awkward as a result.) She writes Young Adult & New Adult romance including the bestselling Dirty Blood & Imitation series’. She splits her time between coastal Virginia and sunny Florida and loves having a mobile career and laptop lifestyle of living in two places. Her most frequent hobbies are riding motorcycles and avoiding killer slugs.

  You can find out more about Heather and her books at www.heatherhildenbrand.com.

  Amelia grew up in a world of half-truths. She knows she's an Elder, but has no idea what that means. Her father reminds her daily that she must maintain control, but he refuses to explain why. Even worse, she's betrothed to the prince of the Immortals and doesn't even know his name.

  Finally breaking free to live a few normal years at a community college, the last thing Amelia expects is to find her best friend in a cheeky southern girl, or fall for a self-assured human who sees her for who she is, not what she will become.

  As she learns more about herself, Amelia realizes the line between love and duty is a thin one. As her power continues to increase exponentially and her questions are slowly answered, Amelia must make the ultimate choice. The question is, will her head win the battle, or her heart?

  Bound by Duty

  By Stormy Smith

  Copyright 2016 by Perfect Storm Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved worldwide

  Prologue

  Her stark white hair fell down around her face. For the first time in one hundred years it wasn’t pulled back in a waist-length braid. Her crimson robes were torn and stained. She bit back a groan, her lips a tight line as the pain ripped through her once again. The invisible knife raked its way up her back as wounds no one could see flayed her skin and weakened her resolve. It had been days of this and she wasn’t sure if she could continue. As she looked up and met the queen’s eyes, Lavignia pushed the anger down and forced compassion to rise yet again.

  “What is it you hope to learn, Julia? What is it you think you have to gain from all of this?” she asked weakly as she tugged on the restraints that kept her tethered to the heavy wooden chair. Her power was already weak when the Hunters had found her, and the enchanted chamber had dampened what remained to a tiny flame.

  The room was dark, but the sun was slowly rising. An orange and pink glow filtered through the small window above Julia’s head. The colorful rays that should have resembled hope of a new day only shed light on the reality that Lavignia would never leave this room alive.

  Julia stepped from the shadows and walked slowly toward Lavignia. She stopped and crouched down, putting herself at eye level.

  “Oh, Livvy, dear. Don’t do that,” she said, her tone patronizing as her ice crystal eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend you can still look down on me from your Elder tower. Don’t pretend you can utter your polite words and suddenly I’ll remember who you are versus who I am. I know exactly who I am. I am the one who rules them all. I am the one they will bow down to and worship. I am the Queen. Not you. Or your sisters. Your time is done.”

  She looked back over her shoulder to the Hunter who stood in the still dark corner of the room and nodded. The Hunter’s eyes burned bright orange as Lavignia’s screams echoed off the walls. Julia raised her hand and the screams dropped to whimpers. With that same hand, she reached out and took Lavignia’s.

  “Livvy, look at me,” she commanded. Dazed, dim violet eyes struggled to focus and find hers. Julia tightened her grip, digging her scarlet nails into Lavignia’s already tender flesh, making her yelp and their eyes connect.

  “Livvy, you need to tell me,” she said. “I know you see it. You knew this day would come and you know I won’t stop until you tell me. I scoured the lands for you. I know there are others left, but they can be saved. You can save them, old friend. You just have to tell me.” Her tone was persuasive and gentle, but the frantic look that passed through her eyes told Lavignia the truth the queen couldn’t hide — she was scared.

  “You won’t harm the others? You will let them live out their lives hidden and free? You will swear an oath?” Her words trailed off and Lavignia’s eyes closed, the torture of the last few days taking its toll. She could only hope the oath would keep her people safe.

  She didn’t see the triumph that straightened Julia’s posture or the sneer that twisted her thin, painted lips. “Of course, my dear. I swear to you that I will not seek out and harm the remaining Elders. I swear that I will not take their freedom.”

  “Your blood,” Lavignia said, her words barely audible.

  Julia removed a small dirk from the folds of her skirts and repeated the words as she slid the blade down her palm. As the deep red drop hit the floor, she sent a small wave of power through to heal the wound, reveling in the knowledge that she had won.

  “Now, Livvy, darling, you must tell me.” When Lavignia didn’t respond, Julia whipped back around to the still silent Hunter. “Help her. Give her what she needs. NOW!” she commanded, panic finally breaking through her controlled facade.

  The Hunter flicked a wrist at Lavignia and she suddenly straightened, her eyes luminescent and shining at the welcome invasion of power that flooded her system, giving her renewed life for a few precious seconds.

  With sudden clarity, she saw the future that had eluded her. She looked down on Julia with authority and pity as the words that would cement the queen’s fate fell from her lips.

  “You will have your time, but it will end. She will be born to the one who got away. Inside her, the five families will merge and only a man who is both king and companion will tame the wild and set her free. She will be your undoing. She will lead them all.”

  Julia reared back, Lavignia’s words not the ones she expected. Seconds later, her dirk was buried deep in Lavignia’s chest. Lavignia collapsed back against the chair, a content smile mocking the queen from her lifeless face.

  Julia’s breath heaved in and out in short bursts as she turned to the Hunter. “I made an oath. You did not. Find them. Kill them all.”

  Chapter 1

  Last night’s dream had been different. More vivid than normal. Even now, as I sat on the picnic table bench on campus, I couldn’t stop seeing my father’s eyes. My dreams had always been constant and the emotions I awoke with varied from anger, to sobbing, to complete fear. Waking up peaceful was a rarity for me. It was only recently that I could actually recall my dreams hours later. Before, they’d disappear as soon as I woke up. Now, they haunt me.

  My hands still ached from clutching the pillow to my chest as I tossed and turned throughout the night. I didn’t have to close my eyes to see the scene replay for t
he hundredth time today. There I was, standing in my living room, nine years old again, wondering which of my father’s personalities would take the five steps from his study and turn the corner to stand before me. As soon as I saw his wide eyes, his twisted scowl, and his tense, rigid posture, I knew this night wouldn’t end with bedtime stories. So few nights actually did.

  I wanted to back away but had learned it only made things worse when I showed my fear. I had to keep myself from searching the room for Rynna. I knew my nanny was gone. It was just me and my father, and he knew. He always knew when I had lost control, as I had just minutes before. Before I could react, he hoisted me off the ground, his palms cupping under my arms. He held me at eye level, his frantic stare making it hard for me to keep eye contact. I was afraid of my father in these moments; in the times where he didn’t feel at all like himself and I was nothing but a failure to him. For a split second, I thought I saw his eyes soften and an apology flit across his features, then all I saw was the flash of orange in his eyes before he dropped me to the ground and ran out the back door.

  That was the part that made no sense. My father’s power source was green. One of the many colors associated with Witch power. Orange was the power of Hunters — of killers — and I’d seen my father release his power enough times to know that he was no Hunter. I was in mid-thought, wondering why my dreams never made any sense, when Bethany plopped down beside me with a, “Hiya!”

  Her peppy, southern drawl interrupted my latest round of introspection and I was thankful for it. Bethany was one of those people you couldn’t resist talking to. Nice in the most sincere way, even though no one could imagine where all that positivity came from. In her short sundress covered in multi-colored bird silhouettes and her cardigan that she somehow managed to make look fresh and trendy, I wasn’t sure how I managed to win the lottery of college roommates. My messy top-knot, ripped Capri, and basic tee weren’t winning any fashion awards today, but she probably slept last night. I didn’t.