The Vampire Prince

by Juliette N Banks

  It was the perfect crime, and no one suspected a thing.

  He opened the door to the kings’ office. “Good eve, your majesty.”

  “Regan,” the king said stiffly.

  He froze. Something had changed.

  “Come in. Don’t mind my mood. I’m just feeling more unwell than usual.”

  He knew that wasn’t true, but it was about to be. After this double dose.

  This is going to kill us both.

  “Perhaps this will help, sire.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Kate stood staring at him like he was the Antichrist, and he supposed he was looking back at her the same way.

  “This has to be the worst moment of my life,” she said, turning in circles.

  He walked to the bed and retrieved his shirt, which seemed ridiculous, given the circumstances.

  “Um, thanks.”

  She flung her hands in the air. “You know what I mean.”

  Brayden nodded. “Before we—shit, I’m not sure we should do this.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know. Hell, I’m beginning to wonder if we have a choice. Am I mad?”

  The queen dropped her face into her hands and groaned.

  He wanted to go to her, but it seemed wrong to touch or comfort her.

  “I know, I know.”

  Brayden paced the room. Images of what they would soon do filled his mind, creating a churn in his stomach. This was wrong.

  Humans said they found cheating immoral, but many of them still did it without any conscience. For vampires, it was different. To bed another when mated was unfathomable. To bed another’s mate was unthinkable. To bed your brother’s mate, despicable.

  To bed the king’s mate, suicidal.

  And yet, here they were. The queen and the prince. Unable to look at each other, let alone follow through with the goddamned act.

  He sighed.

  Kate finally looked up at him, then away, then back at him, then away. “So, my cycle is...yeah. We can, so let’s...God, let’s just get this over with.”

  Heart pounding in the back of his throat—somehow, it had made its way up there—he tried to speak.

  Couldn’t.

  Tried to move.

  Couldn’t.

  Did he really have a choice? Of course he did. He could let his brother die without an heir, take the throne, and be the king for eternity. Which he really fucking didn’t want to do it.

  He looked at Kate, nodded, and stepped toward her.

  He had to do this. To provide her with a child the world would think was his brother’s. Assuming he could, it would bring joy to his brother and the kingdom around the world. An heir to the throne when they came of age.

  “Okay.”

  She swallowed. Nodded.

  “So, we do this now?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He looked around at his room, wondering if he should have prepared for this moment. How did one prepare for something this fucked up? What was he going to do? Lay rose petals and light candles? Fucking hell, this was a nightmare.

  “I’m really not sure how to do this?” He glanced at the queen. “And before you crack a joke, you know what I mean.”

  She slumped on the bed.

  “I mean”—he sat beside her—“do you want me to...shit, I don’t know...kiss you?”

  Kate looked up at him and a tear fell down her face.

  “Oh man, please don’t. You’re making me feel like an asshole. This is hard for me as well.”

  “Sorry, I know. God, I know,” she said, wiping the tear away. “Okay, let’s just be really clinical about this.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Right. Good idea.”

  What did that even mean?

  He dug through his mental manual of the birds and the bees. Facts: she needed to be wet; he needed to be hard.

  “So, we take care of ourselves?” he asked.

  She glanced at him.

  “I mean...I can help. If you want,” he added, not sure that was true.

  “Sure, yeah, maybe. Can you please turn the lights down more?”

  It made no sense because they were vampires, but even the low light didn’t feel comfortable for such an occasion.

  Brayden removed his shirt and pants and deadbolted the door. He turned as Kate untied her dress and placed it on the chair next to the bed. Without looking at him, she lay on the bed and removed her bra.

  Fuck.

  He climbed on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. She glanced at his boxers then up at him.

  “Give me a moment.” She nodded in response and slipped her fingers into her panties.

  Jesus, were they really doing to do this?

  Brayden watched the movement under the silk. He gripped his cock and began stroking it until it got hard. He was a sexual being; it wasn’t difficult for him to get an erection, though it certainly didn’t mean he was happy about it.

  His chest tightened as he tried to block out any rational thoughts and his conscience. He knew the argument for and against what they were about to do—what they were doing—and the decision had been made.

  This would all be over soon. Except it wouldn’t, would it? The memory would last forever. A child would remind them every day.

  He heard Kate’s heart rate increase, and slid down the bed to lie flush with her. Laying a hand on her stomach, he slowly moved his fingers up toward her breasts.

  Their eyes met.

  Suddenly he froze.

  Those eyes. The wrong eyes.

  Hell, he’d had sex with hundreds of females in his long life.

  Blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, red eyes. He’d seen them all. Lust, passion, desire for power, desire to control, desire to be controlled, and desire to lose control.

  Millions of eyes.

  The problem wasn’t that they were Kate’s, although yes, that was all kinds of fucked up. No, it was that the eyes staring back at him weren’t Willow’s.

  Fuck.

  What if she was his mate? If she was, he’d be betraying her as well, and somehow, despite his love for his brother and his allegiance to the crown, this was worse.

  He scrunched his eyes and flung his arm over his face, groaning. “I’m sorry, Kate.”

  She’d already climbed off the bed, and by the time he opened his eyes, she was dressed.

  “Hey.” He needed to say more, to explain.

  “Stop. I’m surprised we got this far, to be honest.” She looked down at the floor before glancing back. “Thank you for trying, Brayden. Let’s never speak of this again. To anyone.”

  “You have my word.”

  The door closed behind her. Brayden let out the biggest sigh of his life.

  “Fucking hell.”

  Could he have followed through if it weren’t for Willow? He’d never know. Right now, Brayden had one big reality to face.

  He stepped into the shower to wash away the near sin, and afterward, he would have a few hours’ sleep. Then he needed to figure out the rest. Fast.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “So, you think the green?”

  Willow tipped her head from side to side as if it would change the look of the color samples in front of her. “Honestly, I like them both.” Brianna threw a few more color cards on the table, and she inwardly groaned. “Okay, now my brain is going to explode.”

  “See. This is impossible.”

  Her friend slumped back in her chair. Willow smirked. For three months, Brianna had been deciding on paint colors for the outside of her house. This wasn’t their first review of the damn color swatches she wanted to burn. Not the first, not the third, and not the fifth.

  There had been progress today, though: Brianna had decided on a version of white. Seriously, how many kinds of whites could there be?

  The answer was millions, apparently.

  Looking for something to say other than please poke my eyes out, she landed on: “What does the painter say?”

  “I fired him.”
<
br />   She choked on her glass of lemon water. “He hasn’t even started painting yet.”

  Brianna nodded slowly. “That’s right,” she said, as if the reason was obvious.

  Willow shook her head. “You fired him because he hasn’t started?”

  “No, because he was disagreeing with everything I said before we even got started,” she replied as if she was being completely reasonable. “So clearly, it was never going to work.”

  Willow stood up and refilled her water.

  “You know what, I do like the green. No, wait, the blue. Except it’s so...”

  Willow tuned out.

  Bri had been planning the paint job with her deceased husband, and had an unhealthy attachment to the task. She had to let her work through it on her own.

  One glance out the window and she saw it was getting late. It was the first night since meeting Brayden that she was unlikely to see him, and she felt odd. Like she had a hole in her chest. In another week, he’d be gone, and life would be back to normal.

  “Are you staying for dinner?” Willow asked.

  Brianna shook her head. “No, I’m meeting the twins, so I should get going. Hey, why don’t you join us? They’re off on holiday next week.”

  The twins were two hunky gay guys they’d befriended a few years ago. They were a bundle of laughs, and after Brianna’s hubby had died, they’d all formed a kind of family unit.

  Right now, Simon and Mark were both single, so it would just be the four of them. Willow hadn’t seen them in nearly a month, so after a quick glance at her phone to see there were no messages from Brayden, she decided to join them.

  “Sure. I’m in. Text me the restaurant details.”

  Brianna tilted her head. “Everything okay?”

  “Oh yeah, I was just trying to recall if I had any deadlines tomorrow. All good.”

  It was a stupid thing to say, given it was Saturday, but she occasionally worked on the weekend, being a freelancer, so fortunately, her bestie bought the little white lie. A quick hug, and Bri was gone, taking her evil paint samples with her.

  Willow looked at the phone again and sighed. She really shouldn’t be getting this attached, but she was. In truth, she felt she was falling for Brayden.

  A night apart to clear her head was a smart idea. She quickly showered, threw on a white sundress with a blue blazer and matching heels, and stepped out the front door.

  And right into a tall, muscular warm body who caught her in his deliciously strong arms.

  “Going somewhere, gorgeous?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Brayden grinned as he caught Willow in his arms. He hadn’t smiled all day, yet less than a second in her company, and his face muscles were getting a workout.

  “Oh!”

  He loved how flustered she was. Suddenly his face fell. “You’re dressed up. Are you going out?”

  If she said she was going out with another male, he’d be ending a life tonight. No question about it. He felt his fangs aching.

  God, things were really escalating.

  “I thought you were still unwell, so I accepted an invite to dinner.”

  They stepped back in the house, and he pulled the bag off her shoulder. Her eyes followed the bag, then looked back up into his eyes.

  He lowered his lips to hers and let them gently and seductively open hers. When he slipped inside, all hope at going slow disappeared.

  She was like a drug. Passion fired within him like the fourth of July fireworks. He grasped her head, her body, pulling her up against him, her pebbled nipples pressing through their clothes. The little moan which escaped hit the spot, and his cock went from excited to completely invested in the outcome in a split second.

  This female undid him.

  “Hi,” she said when they finally had to stop for oxygen.

  “Bedroom,” he instructed huskily.

  “I can’t.” His eyes darkened at her refusal. She touched his bicep and squeezed. “I have to go, or I’ll be late. Why don’t you come with me?”

  “That’s what I was trying to do,” he growled into her hair.

  “Stop it.” She giggled.

  “You don’t want me to stop, Willow. How long do we have?” He stared heatedly at her so she knew he had no intention of stopping.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Twenty minutes, but traffic...”

  He flipped her around and pushed her up against the wall. “Stop thinking, I’ll get us there on time. Now, panties off.”

  While she followed his instructions, he undid his fly and removed his shirt; it would only get in the way. His cock sprung free.

  “Brayden, be gentle.”

  He ran a hand up her thigh, lifting her dress. “I will, baby.”

  He kissed her neck, forcing his needle-sharp fangs to stay put. She groaned and arched back into him. He had to be so careful from this point on. If he bit her, it would trigger her change, and he was not fucking doing that.

  Cock firm in one hand, he pushed Willow’s legs apart with his foot. A few fingers told him she was already wet enough, so he lifted her and pushed inside.

  “Oh God, yes,” he cried. He needed this so badly. To feel her around his cock, to know it was her and no one else.

  Willow clutched the wall while he rode her gently but with greed. He needed to go deeper. Slipping out, Brayden led them to the sofa. “Here, baby.” She stepped into his outstretched arms, straddled his body, and sat down on his cock. Wet, slippery, and tight. “Fuck, yes.”

  Sucking a nipple, then the other, he rubbed her clit and watched Willow’s face change as the ecstasy built up. Gripping her hips, he sped them up, pressing her into him to increase the friction and pleasure as she glided up and down his hard cock.

  He knew she was ready. His cock swelled.

  “Yes, fuck, Willow,” he said as she let go and he simultaneously filled her with his need.

  She collapsed against his chest, and he kissed her head, running his hands through her hair. He didn’t say it out loud, but in his head, he said I missed you.

  “You okay?” He probably could have been much gentler with her, but his need to possess her made it difficult. He was a vampire, so was already holding back his natural strength, and now he had to keep his fangs out of her skin. It would only get worse the more time they spent together.

  “Worth it,” she mumbled against his chest. He tipped her chin up to look at him, and delighted in how spent she looked.

  “Your eyes!” she exclaimed, touching his face.

  Oh crap.

  Of course she’d notice his eyes. They spent a lot of their time gazing at each other like a fucking Hallmark card.

  “Oh. Contacts. Different ones,” he lied.

  She nodded and lay back on his chest. Patting her bare bottom, Brayden reminded her they had to get moving.

  Moments later they stepped outside, and Brayden pulled her into his arms. “Forgive me. You won’t remember this in a moment.”

  He ported them to the Venice Beach restaurant and silenced her squeal with a kiss. Capturing her gaze, he rearranged her memory.

  Forget that happened. We caught an Uber here and made it in good time.

  No way was he wiping her memory of their sexual encounter. He wasn’t crazy.

  Willow looked around, then grabbed his hand. “This way!”

  They headed toward the restaurant, and Brayden prepared himself for an evening socializing with humans, something he’d not done, aside from with Willow, for a long, long time.

  “Hey!” a voice shouted out and a hand waved in the air. A woman with long curly red hair, who was sitting next to two men, called them over.

  He pulled Willow to a halt.

  “Willow,” he said darkly. “Is this a double date? Are you being set up?”

  She looked over at the table, back at him, and burst out laughing. His eyes narrowed at her. A bonded male was dangerous. Brayden dug deep for patience, knowing his human had no way of understanding what was
going on with him.

  “Hell no. That’s Mark and Simon. They’re about as interested in my vagina as a blind man in sunrises.”

  Or a vampire.

  He instantly relaxed.

  “Not a fan myself,” he muttered and nudged her toward the table.

  “Sunsets?”

  “Much more my taste.” He grinned, taking her hand.

  “You’re so romantic.”

  If staying alive was romantic, then yes, he was Mr. fucking Darcy. A round of hellos, introductions, and handshakes ensued as they joined the group.

  “Please excuse my rudeness, Brayden, but helloooo, Willow, you never told me you were seeing someone.”

  He watched Willow blush, and realized they hadn’t discussed this. Likely she’d planned to have a chat during the drive over, but he’d taken the opportunity from her. The way she was glancing around the group, it was clear she was uncomfortable. He decided to take the lead, hoping he was doing the right thing.

  “It’s my fault. Willow didn’t get my text saying I was coming over, so she felt obliged to invite me tonight.”

  Talk about a nonanswer.

  “I doubt it. Our Willow never feels obliged,” Simon quipped, sipping on his fruity cocktail.

  Our Willow?

  No. She was his.

  “Brayden’s only in town another few days,” she said, offering her friends an apologetic glance and another nonanswer.

  They were quite the pair.

  Everyone politely nodded and smiled, jumping to their own conclusions.

  Brayden would have moved on, however, the dominant bonded male in him was still stuck on Simon’s comment.

  He knew modern human women considered dominance as controlling and a potential danger, but he needed the world to know she was his. Because ripping the male’s head off was not good dining etiquette, he slipped an arm along the back of Willow’s chair and ran his thumb across the arch of her neck.

  Brayden had ignored it for days, but now it was obvious. If a fellow vampire saw them together, they would know he was bonded.

  Well, fuck.

  “So, what’s good here?” he asked, smiling at the group.