by C. D. Gorri
“I’m lost,” I say. “I was with… erm, friends, and I got separated from them, and then the darkness fell.”
“You must be frozen.” The female that the voice belongs to steps forward, close enough for me to see her clearly for the first time.
It may be dark, but the moon is risen, and my eyesight is clear on a bright night. She is tall, slender and beautiful. Her clothes are strange and not in the fashion that most humans wear these days. She is wearing what seem to be leather trousers with knee-high boots, some sort of woolen garment and a leather vest on top. She must be cold herself, surely.
“If you come with us, we can give you some food and warmth,” she offers with a smile.
My inner wolf whines. She might not be able to show herself, but she guides me still from within. I have seen her in my dreams. She’s white and so beautiful if hurts. Right now, my beautiful white wolf is not happy.
The woman in front of me is strikingly good looking, but in a chilling way. Her face is strangely inanimate; it’s oddly unlined, too perfect and very pale.
They have walked close enough for me to scent them now. Three females and two males.
I take a deep breath.
Oh no.
It can’t be.
I breathe again.
I’m certain of it.
Vampire.
My muscles tense, and I prepare to flee, but a steel grip shackles my wrist as sure as if handcuffs had been slapped on me.
“Oh no, you filthy wolf. No you don’t. No running for you. You’re in our territory now, and you came so close to our fortress that we were sent out to find you, at great danger to ourselves, I might add. It was barely dark when we set out in search of you. We could have been burned. You need to come and meet your fate. Auction for you, lovely. It might be the Queen who buys you. She can always use more servants.”
The Queen. This cannot be happening. As far as my understanding of vampire society goes, each nation has a vampire king or queen. Here in Scotland, the vampire queen is ancient and greatly feared by all who know about her. They may keep to themselves in their weird fortress, hidden away from human sight and separate from the rest of us preternatural creatures, but they have an army big enough to defeat any wolfpack.
If there was one creature I did not want to meet tonight, it would be a vampire.
“You’re a wolf shifter, aren’t you?” A different female asks. “And yet, there is something not right.”
She leans in and scents me as if she is wolf herself. Do vampires have a keen sense of smell? Seeing as I’ve spent my whole life avoiding them, I wouldn’t know.
“Yes, definitely something not quite right with you, Red. The Queen will tell us what it is. The Queen knows everything.”
I ignore the nickname and frown. I’m pretty damn sure their queen cannot know everything. How can she? These vampires spend their lives hidden behind a fortress; I know that much. They gave up their fighting for supremacy a long time ago. It is rumored that they used to fight against the dragon shifters on the side of the humans. Then they allegedly switched allegiance. Who knows what the truth of the matter is, though, because it’s all lost in the misty passage of time.
We wolves do not have a written history, so our knowledge is passed down orally from mother and father to young in a never-ending, wonderful chain of knowledge.
As to what the vampires do to record history, I have no idea.
The vampires hate us. They see us as nothing more than vermin. Humans at least provide them with something they need, sustenance. It’s rumored, however, that they cannot drink shifter blood because it can kill them.
I’ve always known to avoid vampires, but I didn’t know they had a fortress so close to our land. In fact, I do recall my brother being told not to go beyond the stream by the old oak tree, and I crossed that a while back. I should have remembered. Come to think of it, why did my parents never warn me? Maybe I wasn’t worth educating on these things. The thought has a sharp pain piercing my breast.
As these awful creatures drag me behind them, I get a flash of my future; it’s powerful and haunting. I stagger as the vision blindsides me. It is not the first time I’ve seen something from my future, but this cannot be right. I’m wearing silks and jewels, and young women are waiting on me. A handsome man stands in the corner of the room, watching with a smile as the women cater to my every need.
I shake my head and blink, trying to clear the vision and focus on the here and now.
Ahead of me, out of the mists, looms a fearsome site. It’s a broken-down, crumbling old castle. How can they live in this? There are no windows, and no roof. The wind howls around and through the wreck, and I shiver as I instinctively hang back.
“Don’t drag your feet,” the female holding me says. “This is your new home.”
“She can’t see it properly,” says one of the males.
“Ah, of course. One moment my dear.” The female that has hold of my wrist passes her hands over my eyes and whispers something in a language I do not know.
When I open my eyes again, I gasp.
In front of me is the most wonderful palace I have ever seen. It’s a pale, gleaming building, jutting high against the sky, dominating all around it. There are fancy, ornate gold tops to the turrets. It’s so opulent and enticing.
This is the real vampire home.
This is their fortress of legend.
What I saw before was a mirage meant to deter visitors.
I glance up at it again, and its majestic walls hold a terrible strength despite their beauty.
The place is resolute and commanding. You can tell by one glance that it has stood here for hundreds if not thousands of years. What magic do these creatures have to make it appear as nothing more than a wreck?
The vampires clearly have more power than I ever understood. Running away from my pack may have been the worst mistake I ever made.
I’m about to enter the lair of the vampire.
Chapter Two
Dragan
I watch the Legion finish practicing their drills. The army I have created grows stronger day by day. The Queen will be rightfully proud come Sunday eve when we celebrate the anniversary of her ascendancy to the throne. The display by the Legion will be the pivotal point of the evening. Twenty of my men will ride their undead, horse steeds, carrying torches aloft as the other warriors form a battle display.
The battle displays hark from a much earlier time, back when the Legion actually fought. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss those days. Back then I had a purpose. A drive. Now, I, and my men, are reduced to mere showpieces.
The warriors finish their rehearsal and stand in perfect formation facing me. I give the order for them to retreat to their various lodgings and rooms for the night.
Our fortress palace is huge and contained in a massive courtyard, surrounded by the square of the protective walls. There is a space in that courtyard the size of a village that houses shops, taverns and spaces for us to gather and socialize. Built within the four walls of the palace itself is a warren of living spaces, much like the German palaces and castles of Bavaria. The building may be ancient, but it is full of modern luxuries within. We vampire have taken full advantage of the advances the humans have made in the technological realm.
Now, thanks to them, we not only have a plentiful food supply, but we also own electric blinds that close out the light entirely. It may sound like a small thing, but I know several vampires who, in the past, were incinerated when they fell asleep blood-drunk and forgot to close the blinds.
At the start of sundown every evening, steel blinds all around the fortress windows and doors close as one, locking out any outside light. We also have wonderful electric lighting, again saving many a vampire life, as the use of candles wasn’t always the safest bet.
There are very few ways to kill us, but fire and sun are two sure-fire methods.
I stare up at the starry sky above me and blow out a long breath.
> I’m bored, and, if I’m being truthful, jaded with this easy life. My best friend, Sebastian, is curing his boredom by taking a wife. He claims she is his fated mate, which is frankly ridiculous. I don’t believe in fated mates. I’ve been on this earth for hundreds and hundreds of years and never met mine.
Still, Sebastian is happy, and that is all that matters. Or so I tell myself.
His fated mate is a vampire from Estonia. She is very beautiful and only fifty years old. She was turned aged twenty-two, and Sebastian was turned aged thirty-five, but is six hundred years old. So my wedding speech is full of jokes about the age gap.
Most vampire these days were turned, but there are a rare few who are born this way. Those vampires are our leaders, our kings and our queens. True-blood royalty. They tend to live longer than those who are turned. It’s simply not true that vampires are completely immortal. Most succumb to a form of madness by the time they reach two to three thousand years old. Vampire dementia, Sebastian calls it. At this point, most of them take their own life.
Our Queen is well beyond those years. She is still going strong and a formidable ruler.
If there were the wars of old for her to fight, then she would win every damn one. As it is, we hide behind these fortress walls and live a life of exquisite boredom. We’re over indulged on every level, our whims catered to by fanatical human fans.
At some point in the last thirty or forty years, vampirism has become inexplicably popular amongst the humans. It means we have a steady supply of blood from young, naive people who believe feeding us is romantic.
The fortress is full of these donors. Most of them will go back to their lives unharmed, their memories wiped. However, some end up staying for their whole lives. Some humans have blood so exquisite, it tastes to us like the most famous wine and intoxicates us in the same way. Those humans we can’t bear to let go, but we try to make their lives as comfortable as possible.
I pull the leather gloves from my fingers and slap them into my left hand, holding them as I storm into the main entrance of the fortress. I need to find Sebastian and make preparation for his feast night before his wedding next week.
My boots echo off the four walls as I stomp over the paving stones. I push open the heavy main doors and enter into the hive of activity that is the entranceway to our home.
There is more noise than usual, and I look around me, alert. Have those pesky Fae tried to breach our defenses again?
I have told the Queen many times that she should let me go and level those meddling fairy folk with my Legion, but she won’t hear of it. She says they are more nuisance than danger, but I don’t trust them one bit. Underestimate the fairy folk at your own peril.
Unfortunately for us, they seem to have a particular fascination for vampires.
A howl rents the air outside, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It’s always the same reaction; first, a moment of pure joy as I think the wolves from my childhood home in the mountains are calling to me. Sadly, it’s quickly replaced by a rush of revulsion when I recall that the only wolves around here these days are those filthy shifters.
I grit my teeth and physically stop myself from going out there to climb the walls and tear them limb from limb.
The wolfpacks almost eviscerated my fellow vampire, many centuries ago when the wolves were plenty in number. Now they are decimated, and I am the one with an army that is many in number. They are rebuilding their numbers, though, through a program of intensely promoted procreation. Shifter females are now nothing more than vessels. Even with the shifters trying to create a population surge, however, the Queen won’t hear of us attacking first. She says there’s been a certain peace between the supernatural creatures, a kind of unspoken equilibrium that we have reached, and she doesn’t want to be the first to break it.
Attack is the best form of defense, but our queen wants to honor the pact we all signed two hundred years ago. Personally, I don’t see the point in holding onto something so old when those wolves and the Fae keep making incursions right within our territory. Most of the time, they stick to the border and play games of dare, but every once in a blue moon, some idiotic shifter will venture too far and near to our fortress, which we cannot allow. Those shifters become our servants, kept by us to serve their term as agreed in the peace treaty. Personally, I think we should simply kill any who trespass. The peace treaty also states that any vampire entering wolf territory is also kept as a servant. None of us bother going into their territory. Why would we? Plus, we’d burn as they’d be very unlikely to give us a safe place to stay.
On this and all other matters, however, publicly I defer to our ruler.
“Take her to the great hall, and we will hold an auction,” a female says to my left.
I turn to see Xenia with a young human in her grasp.
I stare at the human for a long moment.
She is beautiful, the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in years… decades, despite being a bedraggled, muddy mess.
Her hair is red and long, full of waves and wild curls. Her face is petite and heart-shaped, with huge blue eyes. She has rare coloring and a regal bearing, for one wearing such ragged clothes and covered in mud.
Her gaze lifts, and, for one electrifying moment, collides with mine.
If I were a lesser male, I would reach out and grab hold of something for support, but I don’t. I plant my feet firmly into the ground and simply stare right back.
What the hell?
As we hold one another’s gaze my preternaturally slow heart rate speeds up fast enough for me to be aware of it, and my skin warms. The great clock ticking by me slows, then stops. The hair on the back of my neck raises as if in warning, but my cock swells and pushes against the prison of leather pants I’m wearing.
My fangs punch through my gums, and I open my mouth, preparing to bite.
Looking around me, I realize I need to get a grip.
The female doesn’t seem to be faring much better. Her skin is flushed, and she’s perspiring. Her breath is ragged, and her heart is beating much faster than it should be, even with her fear.
What is this?
The moment is broken when Xenia drags her prisoner harshly behind her, causing the girls head to snap back as they yank her towards the great hall.
They’re going to auction this human off?
Why? An auction means someone is here against their will, and we don’t take humans against their will. Not anymore.
I change my plans there and then. Sebastian and his nuptials can wait, for I’m going to be in the Great Hall tonight to see what is going on with this young female.
I charge down the hallway and take the stairs two at a time, heading for the very top level. This floor is where the ambassadors, the priests, myself, the mage and the Queen’s closest maids live. Above us is only the turrets, and they are reserved for the Queen and her two permanent maids-in-waiting. Lower levels are for the rest of vampire society seen as important enough to live within the fortress walls but not to have a top-floor room.
I reach the heavy oak door that is the entrance to my suite of rooms and open it. I never lock my door because to do so would be a sign of weakness. I don’t need to lock anybody out because I am Dragan, the leader of the Legion. Anyone entering my rooms without permission is entering into a death contract. I sit heavily on the sofa in my living space and undo the ridiculous boots I wear as part of my uniform. Gratefully, I kick them off, and then I take off the heavy woolen socks too.
Standing, I unbuckle the ornate belt holding up the leather trousers. I let them fall to the floor and push my underwear down too. My cock is half engorged still, and I know why. Those blue eyes. The way they saw into my very soul.
I make quick work of undoing the leather laces on my vest and take that off before discarding the linen shirt underneath. Naked, I walk through my living space and head to my bedroom. I aim straight for my bathroom, turn the shower on and step in, turning it up until the spray is a hot
, punishing beat against my skin.
I reach for the scented body wash prepared for me, the same way as for all the warriors of the Legion, by the maidens. The maidens are vampire females who do not wish to mate and who instead provide services of many different types to the Legion.
Although unmated males and females regularly fuck human blood donors, they often can’t keep up with our appetites. The maidens don’t wish to be tied to one male forever, and so they spread their goodwill amongst us all. Over time, the role morphed into something prized, and the maidens don’t only provide sex, but they provide clothing, and food, and treats, all lovingly handmade and only for the Legion. In return, they are revered and live in luxurious accommodations.
Some in our society still see them as nothing more than whores. I never viewed them that way. I understand why they would want to avoid taking a male mate. If a male vampire takes a mated wife, he is the most possessive creature on earth. Any vampire female that doesn’t want to be tied to one male for the rest of her life will do well to avoid such a scenario as becoming someone’s fated mate and wife.
I glance down at my hard cock and wonder if I should call a maiden up now. I decide against it because things could take a turn for the leisurely, and then I’ll be late for the auction in the Great Hall. I don’t want to miss that for anything.
Instead, I pour more of the scented lotion onto my hand and wrap my fist around my engorged flesh. Eyes closed, I imagine that instead of my fist, the mouth of the petite redhead is surrounding me, eager for me, taking me down right to the base as her eyes well and she chokes on my length. I’d grip her hair and force her to take it all.
I’m shocked when that image alone is enough to have me shouting and spraying the tiles with copious amounts of cum. I don’t stop either, but come twice more, hips bucking and cock spasming painfully in my hand.
