Tag: Paranormal

Blind Salvation: Final Damien Excerpt

Damien

She saw him– that was all he could think about as he carried his woman into the closest room with a bed. His parents were right behind him and when Lucinda had emerged from wherever it was she had been taking refuge and joined them. He kicked down the door and forced himself into one of the servant quarters, which was no bigger than a walk in closet with a single bed, and a sink. The room looked a lot like the prison cells seen on the show Locked Up but he didn’t care. He needed to get her on a hard and flat surface; at least he thought that was what he needed to do. Her scent, that citrusy fragrance of hers had thickened; not the same scent that indicated her arousal but that single identifying smell that separated her from the rest…the Fae. “What happened?” He asked his father, his mind racing with worry. “I don’t know. I have never seen a Fae/Seer mixture before…never seen a Fae mixed with anything combo. I wish I knew son.” “She saw me…” Damien whispered awestruck. “She did. She saw all of us.” Hadrian replied as he leaned his muscled frame against the doorway. “What triggered it?” Damien asked as he gently brushed a stray hair away from her face. Phaedra frowned and glanced up at her husband who simply shrugged,” Fear.” Kennedy moaned and before groggily sitting up. Damien glared at his father who again simply shrugged before turning around and walking away dismissing everyone as if that were in fact a kingly thing to do.

He helped her rise, and she rubbed her eyes and he could tell she was trying to force whatever it was that happened to happen again and when it did not, she hung her head in disappointment.  “Are you alright?” Phaedra said softly, her voice filled with concern. “Yes, I am. Thank you,” Kennedy nodded. “I will have the staff prepare you a meal,” Phaedra continued. “What will you like?” “Uh…” “She doesn’t like fish or anything sea food.” Damien answered. “Ok, well how about a turkey sub on wheat? Rodger makes a sandwich so divine that if I were to allow him he could put Subway out of business.” Phaedra bragged. Lucinda, who had been peaking from the other side of the door way the entire time, chuckled. “What do you know about places like Subway mother? You hardly leave the house.” “Who needs to leave the house when you have cable and a culinary genius at your beck and call?” Phaedra said playfully. “Bring her to the kitchen so that she may eat. Hunger may be the cause for some of the fluctuations that she is experiencing,” Phaedra ordered right before she poofed herself out of the doorway.  “I don’t know what happened Damien,” Kennedy said sadly. “I saw you-“”-I know.”  “What’s wrong with me?” Damien glanced over to where his sister was standing and clearly taking in the moment. Her grey eyes were filled with unshed tears that she quickly wiped her way, her pale cheeks red and her expression sullen. He mouthed, “What’s wrong?” And Lucinda’s response was her disappearing into the nothingness. Damien sighed. “We are trying to figure that out love,” he said cupping Kennedy’s face. “You know what I wish I could see once more?” Kennedy said, her mouth brushing the tips of his fingers, sending an erotic chill throughout his body. “What’s that?” She raised her eyes to meet his. “Your eyes. I love your eyes. The blue is deep and unfathomable, like you.” Well what could he say to that? Nothing. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips before helping her to her feet.

And so the light fell in love with the dark, even though it was the light that could not see and it was the dark that bathed in the sun.

He held her hand in his and once their fingers were intertwined, a sense of peace flooded his senses. And somehow, he knew that this was meant to be.

Blind Salvation: New Character Alert

Rothbart

Using his sword, he sliced the head clean off of the Night Stalker and stepped back to watch it disintegrate onto the floor. The fifteen or saw Night Stalkers that were in his presence looked at each other with unease. “I had her!” He bellowed as he scanned the creatures that stood before him seeking another victim. Instead, he kicked an old woodened table and sent it crashing into a wall. He was back at the abandoned cellar of an old Victorian styled house that had become his home. Stupid Night Stalkers and their aversion for sunlight; sometimes they proved themselves to be nothing more than useless and this moment was one of those times. He should have just broke into the house and grabbed her himself but then he knew he would have had to come face to face with Lucinda and he was not sure if he could steady himself in her presence.  He punched a hole in the wall, the plaster exploded from the impact. That blind woman-no that Seer would have been an excellent bargaining chip to lure that arrogant prince and then his father to their doom.

“We can attack the mansion as soon as the sun sets,” one of the Night Stalkers, the oldest of the bunch who was once a lively man in his late thirties and a promising career in politics from the 18th century suggested.  Rothbart eyed him hatefully but did not say anything. He could attack the mansion tonight and while the Night Stalkers offered a useful distraction he could go inside and retrieve the Seer and ultimately lure the prince to his death. And after the prince, the King…followed by the queen and then… he shook his head. As much as he hated Lucinda for leaving him with a bitter heart he was not sure if he could bring himself to kill her. But, he could make her suffer.  “Leave,” he commanded the Night Stalkers who did not hesitate to relieve themselves of his presence. “Return as soon as the sun sets,” was all that he said as he watched them head into various parts of the house to hide from the last few remaining rays of the sun.

He dropped his sword, a hand- made blade constructed from the fiery embers of the Vatican made from the finest of alloys and then blessed by the Pope himself, and slumped on the ratty green sofa he had purchased over 40 years ago. The thought of Lucinda always sent him down a road of memories he unsuccessfully tried to bury deep into the black box he held under lock and key. But it was too late. He closed his eyes, and trued to distract his thoughts with remembering when the last time was he had taken the time to shower. It had been days-no, weeks maybe? He ran his fingers through his thinning blonde hair and remembered how Lucinda used to do the same. On nights when he could steal her away from the responsibilities of a future queen, they would secret themselves away to foggy streets of London, laughing and joking and headed wherever they pleased, and she would find that moment when he would lose himself in her grey eyes and run her fingers lovingly though his hair to the very tips.

How he missed those beautiful eyes of hers…and that thick mane of red hair. He used to lay it across his chest after several rounds of love making, while she cuddled next to him talking about the burdens of the throne and how demanding her father had been. Damien had been a fledgling then-the equivalent of a teenager, and Rothbart looked forward to those stolen moments with the vampire who had not only stolen his heart but his soul. Making love to her had been an experience that was irreplaceable and since their split he had not lain with another woman since then. She was insatiable and sensual-the perfect mix and it had been he that had taught her what she probably now used to entice her male suitors. It was he, Rothbart, who had been her first.

He grimaced at the memory. How could a love so perfect end so tragically? He was more than willing to leave the Order just so that he could spend his days and nights with her. He would have gladly turned a blind eye to the mess of Night Stalkers that her people carelessly created just so that he could build a relationship with her father, the King. And, then when he died and was reborn a few hundred years or so later, he would have come back to her…their love would have never had to end. But no, she would always be “Daddy’s Perfect Princess”. His blood would never be good enough for her and who he was would never be accepted, even if he did put down his sword. She had to marry a vampire. He wondered if she was married even though she was pretty much dethroned and replaced by her brother. He wondered if she truly loved her mate and if she ever truly loved him. He seriously needed to get it together. He needed more time. He would not attack the mansion tonight. Lucinda was what the Seer was to the prince: his life and his death. He still had plenty of time left to exact his vengeance.

Blind Salvation Excerpt: Damien

Damien

Damien glanced back at the portrait of Kennedy seated between her parents and saw something shocking. Her mother had the same colorless eyes that were a classic feature of a Seer. He looked at Kennedy once more who was headed back down the stairs with Hubert. Kennedy didn’t know her mother suffered the same plight as her. He took one last look at her father. He was much darker than both of them; but he strong features, a broad pointed nose, big muscled shoulders, hazel green eyes…even while sitting he could tell her father was over six feet like himself but there was something else off. He stepped closer to the picture for a closer inspection and realized something: Kennedy’s father was not human, at least not all of the way. Behind that smile of his and within the rows of perfect white teeth was a pair of retractable daggers. Not vampire like his…but Fae. And judging by the way that Kennedy was all too comfortable around him and his sister-not that either of them would hurt her-but her parents had raised her in the dark. Literally. She had no idea who she was.

He watched her cautiously and slowly walk down the steps back onto the first floor. His woman was a Fae? Or at least part Fae? He had thought the species to be long extinct after the wars and there had been one; a successful one at that had thrived in the human world of Bridgewood? How could his family not have known? The Fae and vampires were not enemies-not exactly friends but not enemies. They were a peaceful people who proved themselves formidable against vampires and had their own abilities and skills that put a lot of supernatural creatures to shame. And her parents left her alone after raising her as a human…without giving her the tools to properly defend herself…if Damien had never showed up in her life…He shook his head at the thought. But, then he remembered from his early teachings that the Fae never left their young in the manner that her father left her…whether they were half breeds of Full Bloods the Fae were proud of their history which means that her father had to have been running from someone or something. And as for her mother, a Seer, he doubted she did not know what she was or what she could do. He scratched his head. He was going to do some digging around tonight.

“What is the matter dear brother,” Lucinda asked startling him out of his thoughts. She turned to face the portrait and jumped back in shock when she noticed Kennedy’s mother. “Her mother was a Seer too?” Damien shook his head. “How could she not know?” “I don’t know but I have an idea,” He said as he started for the stairs. “What? Do tell me dear brother.” Lucinda said excitedly as she followed behind him. “They were running from someone or something.” “From who?” “I don’t know but keep quiet. I think Kennedy is upset remembering her parents. The trip upstairs was hard on her.” Speaking in hushed tones, Damien convinced Lucinda to stay at the house with Kennedy. He instructed her to not mention anything about his discovery of Kennedy’s parentage, something Lucinda promised to not do.  He needed to go back to the mansion and confront his father.

He met Kennedy downstairs who was busying herself in the kitchen with making herself a sandwich. She had already gave Hubert some fresh food and by the slight grumbles from her stomach, he knew she was starving. “Does your sister like the rooms?” She asked as she slapped  some Miracle Whip on a slice of wheat bread. “Yes she does,” Damien said taking a seat on one of the bar stools. “How are you feeling?” She sighed, and then grabbed some sliced turkey from the container and folded it neatly onto the bread. “I guess I am alright. It’s just that…I don’t go upstairs much. It is has been five years since…” She grabbed a thin cutting knife from the drawer and then a tomato that she had lying on the counter to slice it. But instead of slicing her tomato, she sliced her finger. “Ouch! Damn it!” She cried out dropping the knife and rushing to the sink to clean the wound. Damien was on her in an instant and took her hand and without thinking, took her bleeding finger into his mouth. She gasped in shock and he trembled from the taste. Her blood was like a dark, rich wine of the finest age. She definitely was not 100% human. He moaned but then quickly caught himself and removed her finger out of his mouth and replaced it underneath the cool water from the sink. The wound was not deep but she definitely needed a band aid. “Stay right there,” he commanded as he darted off to the downstairs bathroom and searched the medicine cabinet for a box of band aids. He found them. In seconds he was back in the kitchen wrapping her finger and trying to figure out how he was going to explain himself.

“When was the last time you fed?” She asked interrupting his thoughts. “Uh….” The last thing he wanted to discuss with her was his eating habits. “When was the last time that you have fed? You do drink blood don’t you or is there something you are not telling me?” “I fed the night before…” he said not wanting to look at her. It was funny, here he was a Prince and an heir to the greatest throne in vampire bloodlines and never once in his 300 years of existence ever felt ashamed of his thirst. But, now as he stood facing the only woman he would ever love and the means to his existence and he could bear the thought of her knowing what he did. “Do you kill them?” She asked quietly. “Who?” “The victims…do you always kill them?” He cupped her face as she stared back at him, her eyes wide and searching…and again, straining. “Would you reject me if I told you yes?” He asked, finding himself fearing her response. “No. I would not…” She said. “Then yes, not because I do not value life but because I have to. If I don’t, they will come back as-“ “Night Stalkers.” She had become an expert at finishing his sentences. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of her nose.

With her finger on the mend, and her neck still packed down with healing herbs and her head still bandaged, he knew that there was so much more to Kennedy that needed to be explored. She was resilient and had she been vampire, his father would have without a doubt approved of her. He gathered her in close just for that familiar and his favorite scent of hers entered his nasal cavity and ignited his sense. Her valley was blossoming and readying itself for him. He growled. “Kennedy, you are determined to make me deflower you sooner than I intended…” He murmured into her ear. “No fair!” She said playfully pushing him away. “You and your extrasensory capabilities! How did you know I was…” “Horny?” His voice deepened into a low rumble. “I can smell it.” He stalked her into the corner by the door; she backed away, nervously anticipating what he was going to do to her, and loved every moment of it. He pinned her wrists to the wall and hoisted her up , wrapping her legs around his waist so that he could push himself into her, allowing her to feel what would always be ready and waiting for her. He hungrily took her mouth and with one hand gripping her firm yet juicy behind, and the other caressing her soft and supple skin underneath her tank top and…”Ahem!” He was not sure how long his sister had been standing there but he knew one thing was certain: he wanted Kennedy with a longing that surpassed all reason. Just like that smooth mocha brown skin of hers, her core was hot and judging by the ache in her voice she wanted him just as badly. He bared fangs at his sister for the interruption and carefully let Kennedy down. He kissed her neck-the other side of it of course and she flushed with slight embarrassment. Lucinda grinned from cheek to cheek and chuckled as Kennedy slipped passed her and into the bedroom.

“You ache for her badly brother,” She cooed. “Why the wait?” “I have only known her for three days and she is a virgin. I don’t want to pressure her into anything.” He grumbled as he leaned against the wall. “ At her age?” Lucinda said in disbelief. When Damien didn’t say anything she looked around to where Kennedy had been and said carefully, ”But the way that you keep invading her space like that she does not have a choice. She cannot resist you and your charms. No female can.” Damien sighed. “I don’t want her to see me as a monster…” Lucinda calmly approached her brother and gently laid a palm on his shoulder. “I do not believe that she does brother.”

Blind Salvation: Kennedy

Kennedy

The pain that shocked her system was indescribable. It sent a fire that swept through her and consumed every fiber of her being that she felt her convulse again, over and over under her body went limp from exhaustion. She heard the familiar and loving voice of Damien, encouraging her, reminding her that he was right there and then…she hurled. Violently. Until there was nothing else left but dry heaves. A few minutes later she felt herself being lifted, her clothing removed-something she struggled against until she was reminded that it was no one else but Damien- and then her body relax as it hit the deliciously warm and sudsy water of her tub. The side of her neck ached, and she was aware that Damien was careful not to brush up against it too much. The wound was raw and the creature that did that to her, that vampire had clearly wanted to do more than kill her. Her eyes snapped open at the realization, and the tall, shadowy outline that defined Damien, spoke in soft tones to her, reassuring her that they were alone.

Guinevere was the creature’s name, and she only knew that because another one had saved her. Another vampire. And, now here she was with Damien. He cleansed her tenderly before scooping her into his arms and wrapped her in the plush robe that he had discovered in the huge walk in closet. Her mother’s. Kennedy made a mental note that maybe it was time to get rid of some things. Her parents were never coming back and all of their reminders did not help. He propped her up on the bed and she could feel him staring at her. “I don’t know what happened,” she whispered. Between the pain and the awakening fear, she did her best to fight back the tears that flooded her already bad vision but it was too much. She almost died again. “I was at the park with Hubert and she came out of nowhere,” she stammered. “She said I was the reason why you looked at her with disgust…” ‘Guinevere,” he growled. “It was Guinevere.” “Who is she and why?” She could sense Damien fidgeting around in discomfort, and it was then that she realized that there was still much more she did not know about this man or vampire. “I am a prince,” he stated with no emotion. “Guinevere is to be my bride-not by my choice. I want nothing to do with her-““-So you are engaged?” Kennedy said feeling like she just got punched in the stomach. “Yes,” Damien said dryly. “Courtesy of my father who is the King.” “When were you going to tell me?” Kennedy could barely speak, not without giving away the fact that her heart was breaking. “I have been working on finding a way out…” “I see…” “She won’t come for you again,” Damien said quickly taking her hand. “My sister Lucinda took care of that.” “And how did she know about me? How did both of them know about me?” “Guinevere caught your scent even after I showered last night. Her family has a legendary ability to track virtually anyone or anything which made them incredibly skilled…hunters. I did not know that she would find you so quickly if at all but I clearly underestimated her ability. Lucinda had been following Guinevere because she never liked her and she too had caught your scent mixed with mine…and she was able to save you. She saved you because…because of me…” Damien allowed his last statement to trail off as he studied Kennedy’s heartbroken expression. Tears streamed down her lovely brown face like a spring rain and gently wiped her face with his palm, collecting each tear as if it were a precious diamond.  He could feel the pain-not just the physical pain of the attack but the emotional turmoil that she suffered. Because of him. She was an intelligent woman. She was independent. She was not some feeble minded nor emotionally needed woman who yearned for basic companionship. She trusted him; something that he did not want to lose. As Damien continued to study her, he realized only a woman in love would allow any of this. He could feel it in her smile and the way her heart would beat erratically and frantically in his presence. Kennedy felt his gaze and put her face in her hands. This was too much. The man that she lov- the man that she…she… “I love you Kennedy,” he blurted out. The man that she was in love with was about to be married to someone else. Life sucked. Balls.

“Did you hear me,” he said. “I love you.” She had heard him the first time but could not find the strength to say it back. He had struck a chord and the floodgates reopened and more crystal tears poured down her face and her soul cried out for the release. “I love you too,” She finally managed to say. “Hopelessly in love with you…” And then she sobbed until her very soul was tired.

Blind Salvation: Damien

Damien

He made it to the mansion with just a few minutes to spare. He had just enough time to shower and dress and as he entered his version of King Louis XIV luxury suite of indulgence, he found his sister, the ever beautiful red haired beauty and royal princess Lucinda casually sitting on the edge of his 16th century styled poster bed. She glanced at him with a slight smirk on her face, looking as devious as ever. Dressed in a midnight blue strapless Christian Dior gown, she crossed her legs and eyed Damien with a look of suspicion. “You have been with a human,” she said still smiling. “I can smell her all over you. The night of the presentation and you fulfill your carnal desires with a human…” “Get out of my room Lucinda,” Damien seethed as he walked right past her and into his walk in closet that was the size of a one bedroom apartment. “Why are you acting so testy?” She teased as she slithered behind him to antagonize him some more. “I am sure father would be quite proud to know…” “As the future King of this bloodline I can do whatever the hell I want. The only thing I am obligated to do is marry the shrew and eventually give us an heir. Now get out of my room Lucinda!” Baring his fangs at his spitefully wicked sister, he turned his back to her in his continued search for something to wear. Unmoved by his anger Lucinda took a seat on a crimson red ottoman that was situated nearby and regained her composure. She fiddled with her hair which hung down loosely in a side ponytail that was curled at the ends. “My husband would have made a fine king had daddy changed the laws of the monarchy,” she said finally. “Alexander is a fine vampire who values civility and the rightful order of a society…” “Yes, well Alexander should watch himself,” Damien warned. “I have heard of his proclivities and you would have been better off marrying a Lycan than the likes of him. Hell, Rothbart would have been a better choice for you…” Lucinda gasped at the name. “Don’t say that name again in my presence.” She demanded. “Why?” Damien turned to face her. Her demeanor had transitioned from pretentious and snobbish to ghastly pale and frightened at the mention of the Slayer’s name. “You are the reason why I am even in this position. Yes, dear sister did you think I had forgotten your silly little games you played on the Slayer? The same Slayer that hunted our bloodline to damn near extinction and who left his mark on Father? You are fortunate that father did not kill you for the deeds that you have done. So, for you to come in here and taunt me about my personal affairs you should be residing in eternal hope that I do not exile you to destitution and have your precious husband executed on the spot!” Lucinda’s perfectly symmetrical face had turned beet red at the memory. Her wolf grey eyes had glittered with unfallen tears and she placed her face in her hands. “I really did love him Damien. It wasn’t a game.” Damien took a moment to study his sister and based off of her scent he could detect no lie. “Yeah? Well, tell that to Father because Rothbart has returned.” Lucinda wiped her face and stared into Damien’s midnight blue eyes. “I hope you killed whatever human you were with tonight,” she said. “I can tell by your scent that she is more to you than what you are willing to admit.” Lucinda stood up and strengthened her resolve. “If you care about her you would have killed her because now that you are about to meet your future queen I will leave you with this warning. Please consider it a parting gift from me because after tonight Alexander and I are leaving Brigewood forever. Guinevere is not the feeble minded, socially inadequate shrew that most of the members of the aristocracy believe her to be. I met her a few times and she is sadistic and evil and power thirsty. You are a prize to her: a hard earned prize and she will not settle for being second place in your life. She intends to utilize her role as your wife to its fullest capacity. Do not underestimate her.” Lucinda turned then dematerialized to the Great Hall in the house leaving Damien alone with his thoughts. He found the old world suit and tie that he was looking for and made his way to shower off the remainder of Kennedy’s mouth -watering fragrance before heading down to meet his Fate.

As always Damien was dressed to impress with his black tux and Prada’s finest leather Oxfords. With one quick glance in the mirror, he could not help but admit to himself that he looked like a living god. His long raven hair was freshly pulled back in his signature braid, the tux fitted his muscled form to perfection. Yes, he was definitely eye candy and Guinevere should feel honored that he was forced to be in her presence. He dematerialized to the Great Hall where his father and everyone in his family’s bloodline were waiting. The Great Hall, the largest room in the house was where his parents hosted many a dinner. The seating amounted to 300 and tonight it was filled to maximum capacity. Decorated in Old World Medieval elegance themes with two banners representing both families (Damien’s being red and Guinevere’s being bright green) mounted on opposite walls facing one another, Damien sighed at the spectacle.  Seated at glass tables with expensive linen’s draped across the top, each of the 300 or so guests represented every well known fashion designer from Christian Louboutin, Christian Dior, Coco Chanel, Giorgio Armani, Versace, and Marc Jacobs just to name a few. The female’s kept their gowns simple, most of them strapless and of varying colors. Most of the males were dressed in a tux and carried themselves with an air of regality that one would have thought they were in the presence of kings-not one king. The servants had worked tirelessly at preparing a feast that was fit for an emperor: serving the finest of fish, chicken, wines and a variety of side dishes that would make the Food Network look like a dish served in the local school cafeteria. Then of course, on each of the dining tables that could seat a total of ten people were helpless and very terrified and nude humans tied down as offerings for the supposed to be special day.

Working his way through the crowd he said his hello’s and performed the appropriate greetings to everyone according to their station before he finally made his way over to where his father and mother sat. His mother, Phaedra looked as divine as ever, an exact replica of her daughter, the only difference was the black mole that sat proudly above the right side of her mouth. His mother was known for uniqueness among the vampire race: she was not bloodthirsty, she did not take pleasure in terrorizing humans and she even held a certain level of respect and sympathy for them…except for tonight. She could not afford to make her husband of 600 years appear weak in front of hundreds of vampires vying for and secretly plotting for his position. He kissed his mother lovingly on the cheek before bowing to his father who gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement. “You made it on time,” Hadrian said feeling pleased with his son’s obedience. “I had no choice,” Damien replied as he took a seat next to his mother who gently patted his hand. The human male that was tied to the table and gagged gave Damien a pleading look, which Damien ignored. After tonight he was definitely going to feed. “Where is the wench?” Damien asked suddenly feeling irritated. His father laughed heartily. “She should be coming down soon, son.” “And then can I go?” His mother gave him a surprised look. “Damien, Guinevere is a lovely female. Why would you be so anxious to leave?” “Because Damien’s loins are calling out to him,” his father chided.  Damien ignored his father’s reproach and focused his attention on the door fifty feet ahead of him. He hated his life at this moment. He honestly did. If his father- and just then the door opened and everyone in the room fell silent. A tall, slender built female with magnificently dark hair and emerald green eyes met his gaze. She wore a forest green gown with thin straps that barely supported the most exquisite set of breasts that Damien had ever laid his eyes on…next to Kennedy’s of course. Her neck was bare and from her ears hung a pair of diamond earrings that illuminated a blinding sparkle. A knowing smile greeted him, as if she knew everything there was to know about Damien’s past, present and future; and she took her time approaching his table. Her father, Stefan, walked proudly behind her, his long blonde hair sprawled out across his shoulders giving him the resemblance of a lion instead of a proud and respected vampire. Her mother was as tall as she with equally magnificent dark hair that kept wrapped in a bun and she wore a simple black gown that gently caressed her small ankles as she walked. Guinevere was definitely excellent eye candy and clearly she found herself a stylist to make her look presentable for this occasion. But, as Damien watched with dread as his future wife proudly approached his table, his chest ached for only one woman: Kennedy.

Once she had finally reached the table where Damien and his parents sat, she bowed respectfully to Hadrian, and then Phaedra and finally to Damien. When her eyes met his, her irises lit up with desire and Damien respectfully smiled at her. Realizing that his enthusiasm was not the same she averted her eyes to the floor and she straightened her stance with her father guiding her over to her seat next to Damien. Hadrian stood up and proudly bellowed to the crowd, “To the future King and Queen of our glorious bloodlines! May they have many heirs and a prosperous existence!” The crowd erupted with cheers as champagne glasses were passed around. Damien was not in the mood to drink anything. He could feel himself being watched and he turned his head to face Guinevere whom had been studying him as she took a sip of her champagne. “Am I not to your liking milord?” She asked plainly. Phaedra turned to look at Guinevere who gave an awkward smile and a raised glass. Phaedra glared at Damien who simply shrugged and returned his attentions to the crowd.

It was a good while before the cheering and clinking of glasses abated and then once Hadrian was finished giving his speech addressing the importance of bloodlines and unity, only to conclude on a high note of praises towards Stefan and his family could they eat. Becoming more frustrated and irritated by the minute, Damien eyed the human hungrily and before the first plate of food was served to his table he savagely bit the frightened human. He tore deeply into the man’s jugular and with vicious pulls he drank the life forced that helped him deal with his irritable mood. Once he was finished, Damien raised his head to notice everyone in the room staring at him, even his father and mother who gave him a look of surprise and horror. Guinevere smiled and followed suit, dropping her fangs, the strike was swift and hard into the man’s thigh. Soon, a feeding frenzy erupted and Damien took this an opportunity to leave.

He dematerialized to his room where he found his phone hidden behind a desk and hooked up to a charger. There were no missed calls and then just as he was about to search for the name of the only woman he could think about came a familiar scent. Guinevere had followed him. He bared his fangs in annoyance as she took form in front of him. “Who is she?” She demanded. “Why are you in here?” He snarled violently. “Who is she?” She demanded again. “I am to be your wife and you have done nothing more than look at me with unfortunate dismay as if I were some human!” She screeched. “I don’t even know you and you are acting as possessive as a fool in love you delusional twit,” he snapped. “I am required to marry you, and if you thought that by acting as an insecure teenaged girl in the throes of a tantrum was going to make me look at you with anything more than dismay you have another thing coming.” Well that got her attention. “I will have you know that this is as much as a sacrifice for me as it is for you.” She retorted. “No it isn’t,” Damien replied coolly. “You and your family are elevated from that lowly station that you were given-for goodness sake Guinevere you get to be a queen with every right and privilege afforded to that title. So what exactly are you sacrificing? And whoever this she is that you keep inquiring about, well there is none. So, with that being said, why don’t you remove yourself from my presence before you embarrass yourself and your family any further than you have already.” Tucking his phone in his pocket, he disappeared out of the room to another, more remote location in the house leaving a furious Guinevere trembling with rage and mumbling a vow of vengeance. “I will find out who this woman is Damien.” She inhaled deeply and smiled. Guinevere’s family was legendary for their ability to track the even faintest of scents, which was how her father had found favor with the king.  Guinevere stalked out of Damien’s room with a twisted smile. “Let the games begin,” she mumbled to herself.