It had been nearly a year since the massacre, and the nightmares hadn’t stopped. I didn’t think they ever would.
I would never forgive myself for the pain and heartbreak I’d caused that night when I lost control of my bloodlust and slaughtered those humans in the village. So many of them had died that Queen Laila had to send out troops to replenish their stock.
Stock. As if they were crates of meat, or animals waiting to be slaughtered.
In my dreams, I saw the face of my final victim—the young boy who must have been no older than twelve. Then I woke up with a sharp breath, my fangs out and my gums aching for blood.
As always, a glass of it waited on my nightstand.
I reached for it, downing it in nearly one gulp. It tasted bitter—refrigerated blood always did—but it satisfied the craving enough that after a few deep breaths, I was able to pull my fangs back up into my gums and keep them there.
Still, my body craved more. But I didn’t need more—I just wanted it. The craving was in my mind. It was an addiction—it wasn’t real. What I’d just consumed was enough to sustain me for the rest of the day.
The blood I craved was my greatest desire and my greatest enemy.
After first turning, the lust for it controlled my every thought. But as the days had passed—slowly but surely—I’d improved at controlling my cravings. Three glasses in the morning eventually became two, and then became one.
Still, Laila refused to let me leave the palace. Not until I could prove that I could control my bloodlust around humans. After all, she couldn’t have me killing any more of them. Not after the inconvenience I’d caused a year ago when I’d lost myself to that bloodlust filled haze.
Never mind the inconvenience she’d caused me by turning me into a vampire against my will.
And while I was strong, I wasn’t strong enough to take down a group of guards on my own. Trust me, I’d tried. It hadn’t ended well.
It was hard to believe it had only been a year ago that I’d been a human, unaware of the existence of supernaturals at all. After being locked in this palace for all that time, that year felt like an eternity.
This extravagant palace hidden in the wilderness of the Canadian Rockies—in an enchanted valley that the vampires called the Vale—had become my prison. Every day, I was suffocating. I needed to get out.
Which was why I’d been working daily on controlling my bloodlust. And slowly but surely, I’d been getting better.
Now, I placed the glass down on my nightstand and looked out my window as the last rays of the sun sunk over the horizon. I took deep, measured breaths, and the craving disappeared, my veins cooling down entirely.
I smiled, knowing this was it. I was ready to prove that I’d gained control of the monstrous creature I’d become.
I was ready to be free.
Jacen
“Your Highness,” my vampire guard Daniel said as he stepped inside my room.
I didn’t think I would ever get used to being called that. After all, I was no prince. As a human, I’d been an eager swimmer, ready to conquer my first Olympics and get gold medals in as many categories as possible.
That person had died the moment Laila sank her fangs into my neck and damned me to an eternity of hell.
Daniel glanced at the empty glass on my nightstand, no hint of emotion flickering across his eyes. “Would you like another glass of blood?” he asked.
“No.” I walked over to the window, observing the nearby village. Lights were starting to flicker on in the small houses the humans lived in. Just as I, they were preparing to start their day. Well, night, since we operated on a nocturnal schedule in the Vale.
I turned back to face Daniel. “I would like to speak with Queen Laila,” I said.
He pressed his lips together, saying nothing. “Is it an important matter?” he finally asked. “As you know, the queen just returned from visiting the European kingdom, and she has to catch up on everything she missed in her absence.”
“It’s important.” I held his gaze with his, flexing my arms by my sides. “I’m ready.”
“For what?” he asked.
“To put myself in the presence of a human.”
Laila entered my room thirty minutes later, her trusted witch advisor Camelia following obediently behind her.
Camelia, as always, wore a glass pendant around her neck with a piece of wormwood inside. As a witch, she was the only mortal in the kingdom allowed to use wormwood to protect herself. Laila wore a short, flowing blue dress, and her raven colored hair flowed behind her, making her look more like a teen Hollywood starlet than a centuries year old monster.
She was the worst kind of monster—the kind you never saw coming.
I sure hadn’t.
On the night I’d met her in a bar, all I was thinking was that she was a beautiful girl, and that I wanted nothing more than to bring her back to my hotel room and see how far she was willing to go with me.
If someone had told me what she really was, I would have laughed in their face.
Because Laila wasn’t just an ordinary vampire. She was one of the original vampires.
There had been seven of them in all. All part of a cult of witches who were so determined to stay young and beautiful forever that they’d created a spell using dark magic to make them exactly what they’d wanted—immortal.
None of them knew it would turn them into monsters. At least, that’s what the six living originals claimed.
But I didn’t believe it. Because none of them seemed to hate what they were. In fact, they seemed to relish in it.
“Jacen,” Laila said my name, the slight lilt in her accent the only evidence that she wasn’t from this place and time. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Especially after what happened last time,” Camelia added with a smirk.
As always, the green-eyed witch loved to taunt me. I knew she was referring to four months ago—the last time I tried to drink from a human. They hadn’t been able to bring him through the door before I’d caught a whiff of his scent and lost myself to the haze of my bloodlust.
The next thing I’d known, I was staring at his corpse on the ground, the last bits of his blood dripping off my fangs and onto the polished marble floor by my feet.
“I suppose the loss of one human won’t be too big of a deal.” Camelia waved her hand and turned to Laila. “But of course, the decision is yours, Your Highness.”
Laila eyed me up thoughtfully, tilting her head and softly biting her blood red lip. “The loss of one human would be irrelevant,” she confirmed. “Daniel—go fetch one from the dungeons. An old one, who wouldn’t be much use to us anyway.”
Daniel rushed out of the room in a blur, returning ten minutes later dragging a thin, older man with a chain. “Sit,” he commanded the man, throwing him onto the nearest armchair.
The man cowered in the chair and curled up into a ball, shaking and not looking up at any of us.
I smelled his blood—the rich, thick liquid pulsing through his veins, and it was so tempting that my fangs itched to protrude. His jugular pulsed and pulsed, calling me closer.
But I swallowed down the urge, forcing my breaths to become shallow. I could control myself. I had to control myself.
It was the only way to prove that I was able to leave the palace.
“Very good.” Laila nodded after a full minute had passed.
“That’s it?” I asked her. “Are we done here?”
“No.” She pressed her lips together, mischief dancing in her bright blue eyes. “You’ve only proven that you can be around a human.”
“Isn’t that what I needed to prove?” I asked. “That I can be around them without losing control?”
“You’re a vampire prince.” She ran a finger along one of my arms and pulled away, smiling sinfully. “Your stamina needs to be stronger than that.”
“How so?” I clenched my fists tighter, ignoring her touch. Instead, I stared at the man’s neck again, dreading her next words.
“I want you to drink from him.”
Jacen