Bound by Her Blood Page 2

  As horrible as that sounds, it doesn’t seem as bad as being dragged back to the dungeon by Pike—if Xavier even bothers with the dungeon this time. More likely he’ll make me suffer some horrible humiliation and death in front of the entire court.

  Chapter 2

  Selina

  Four other members of Xavier’s Guard stand outside the dressing room, all uniformed the same—bare chested with leather pants—and all carrying sharp wooden stakes. Two of them walk ahead of Pike, and two take places behind me, their stakes no doubt angled toward the left side of my back.

  As we walk down the dimly lit corridor, my knees tremble and I grow short of breath. I haven’t fed from a human vein since I failed my fourth marriage ceremony. Since I’ve been housed in the dungeon, I’ve had only thimble-sized sips of stale blood—barely enough to keep me alive.

  I try to keep my eyes on the flagstone tiles, rather than Pike, but find myself mesmerized by the huge mounds of his ass cheeks, like steel pressing out against the worn leather, and by the undulating muscles of his back, fully engaged in keeping his huge mass upright.

  Keeping the chain slack between us, Pike walks slowly enough for me to keep up, and twice the guards leading our procession have to stop to let us catch up.

  But that small kindness ends when we enter the Great Hall.

  The instant we’re in sight of his king, Pike tugs hard on the handle, pulling it forward and up, pinching the tender flesh of my vulva and nearly pulling me off my feet as he jerks me into the room.

  Dozens of crystal chandeliers hang over what looks like hundreds of vampires, all dressed in black and white.

  Red, the preferred color at court, is reserved today for the bride and groom.

  Flanking us, the guards continue up the aisle, our hideous wedding party walking more quickly now. Pike tugs on the chain when I don’t keep up—or possibly just to be cruel—and by the time we near the altar, my vulva’s burning and my clit’s so sensitive I fear might come.

  The guards in front part to stand at either side of the large marble platform. Pike tugs me forward until I’m mere feet away from the king, and then holds the chain taut, tugging aggressively against my sex.

  Cruelly handsome, King Xavier’s jet black hair is smoothed back from a strong-jawed face that frames lush lips, and his bright green eyes are accented by heavy but well-groomed brows. His red leather suit perfectly fits his strong, lean body and molds over the protruding bulge at his crotch.

  All I see is ugly.

  He smiles and pure evil emanates from every pore in his body.

  Try this time, I coax myself. If you don’t marry him, he’ll kill you.

  “I like the leash,” he says to Pike. “Well done.”

  Pike tugs up on it—hard—and I gasp.

  Xavier’s eyes open wider. “That thing get her good and ready?”

  “See for yourself, Your Majesty,” Pike answers.

  “No, you do the honors. Please.” Xavier shoots me a look, full of malice.

  “Your Majesty. I couldn’t. She’s yours.” Pike’s voice is hoarse and deep.

  “That wasn’t a suggestion,” Xavier says. “Unless you’d like to exchange your living quarters for a stall in the dungeon.”

  Pike turns toward me, looking down, avoiding my eyes. Not that I want to see the cruelty I feel sure I’d see there.

  “Spread your legs for my loyal guard,” Xavier demands.

  Before I can move, the guards behind me kick my legs apart so abruptly I nearly fall.

  Pike presses his long, thick middle finger against his equally huge index one and shows them to Xavier, who nods.

  Pike sucks in a long, ragged breath, then he slides his fingers between my legs, drawing back and forth a few times over the beads. I fight against my body’s arousal as my breath expels in a thready burst.

  “Do you like that?” Xavier asks, and I shake my head.

  He chuckles. “Inside her,” Xavier says. “I want to make sure she’s prepared.” He wants no such thing. He only wants to show his dominance—over me, over Pike, over everyone in the room.

  Pike’s chest heaves sharply in reaction to the king’s command, and then he forces one finger inside of me.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore my body’s traitorous acceptance of the intrusion.

  “Let me see,” Xavier commands.

  Pike withdraws, then holds up his index finger.

  Xavier studies it for a moment and then licks my juices off its tip. “Not deep enough.” He steps back. “All the way in. At least three fingers.” He nods to the guards. “Secure her legs.”

  Pike’s breath catches again as the guards take hold of my ankles and spread my legs even wider, holding them there.

  Pike holds his pinky down with his thumb, making a rod with his three middle fingers and showing them to Xavier, who nods his approval. Then, with his other hand on my shoulder for leverage, Pike plunges his digits inside me—hard and fast.

  I cry out. Even though I’m so wet, the sudden thick intrusion is painful.

  Another effect of my rapid healing is that my channel has remained as tight and sensitive as it was when I ran away from home at fourteen.

  Yes, my stepfather violated my body many times before that, but as I learned here at court, that monster was endowed with a pencil dick. Since my transition, each time I’ve been penetrated by anything thicker than a thumb, it’s like my first time.

  Pike pulls out his hand and shows his damp fingers to Xavier, who nods, smiling.

  “Selina, my love,” Xavier says. “Look at me.”

  I reluctantly raise my gaze to meet his, and he licks my juice off Pike’s fingers, wet all the way to the bottom knuckle. Xavier sucks the large vampire’s digits into his mouth as if tasting the most succulent dish. Pike looks angry, probably wishing he could have used his whole fist.

  “Very nice.” Xavier steps toward me.

  I almost fall back. The guards are still holding my ankles.

  “Let her go,” he tells them and then he cups my face in his hands.

  “My beautiful Selina.” He kisses my forehead and looks into my eyes. “I cannot wait for you to be my mate, to share myself with you daily in wedded bliss.”

  I shudder.

  “Darling.” The look in his eyes turns almost compassionate. “You don’t yet understand how magnificent it is to fuck and feed from your true mate, the power we’ll both derive from our pairing.” He presses a light kiss against my mouth, then slides his lips close to my ear and whispers, “Yield to me, Selina. Love me and I’ll protect you forever.”

  He straightens, leaving no evidence of his tender plea on his face as he gestures for the priest.

  The priest leads me onto the marble platform and wraps a sheer white silk scarf around my neck, letting the ends drape down my back. Then he does the same to his king.

  At each of the past ceremonies, my white scarf ended up soaked in my blood, or torn from my body, or both. Xavier’s neck has yet to be pierced. If I pass today, will I be capable of plunging my fangs into his neck as he fucks me to complete the final step of the ceremony?

  My intense hunger for blood rises at the thought.

  I can sense the power of the king’s blood as it pumps through his veins, and I fight a battle inside myself. In spite of my revulsion, my body hungers for Xavier—in more ways than one—and my survival instinct wants me to comply, to do all I can to make this work.

  Listening to his blood gush inside him, I force down my hatred as desire floods through me. I want him to feed me, to fuck me. Fuck me here and now in front of everyone.

  I shake my head quickly. What is happening to my mind?

  I do want to live. Do I want it badly enough to go through with this marriage?

  “My children,” says the priest. “Do you come here today of your own volition, without coercion or threat?”

  I glance at the wooden-spike-wielding guards, still aiming their weapons at my heart. “Yes, we have,”
Xavier and I respond together.

  Hearing our voices in unison, my unwelcome feelings for Xavier grow. I certainly feel lust—both blood and sexual—but love?

  “And is your love true?” the priest asks.

  “It is,” we both answer.

  The vampires at court exhale a collective sigh, and the crystal chandeliers seem to brighten, filling the cavernous space with warmth and light.

  “Do you promise to love and protect each other for all of eternity?”

  “We do.”

  “We do, too,” Xavier’s other mates say in unison as they gather closer, and I can sense their blood pumping, too, feel their desire for the king, for me, for each other. I concentrate on those positive feelings. They all love him, can I?

  “Do you promise to worship each other, your bodies, your eternal souls?”

  “We do,” I respond to the priest. I’ve said all these words before, but today’s the first time I’ve said them earnestly, desperately wanting them to be true. It’s the only way to survive.

  “Then it is time.” The priest gestures.

  Two small vampire boys approach. They look around ten years old, but I learned from Jordina that one of them is over two hundred, frozen in time, just like I’ll forever look twenty-two.

  Each of the boys holds a small golden cup and the priest places a large golden bowl, ornately carved with scenes of mating couples, on the floor between us.

  Xavier steps toward me, and the hunger in his eyes is so powerful I can taste it, feel it in my bloodstream and between my legs. At this moment I believe that Xavier loves me, in spite of his cruelty. And in this moment I want him, too. I want him to feed from me, to fuck me, to call me his mate. In spite of my weakness, my fangs tingle, wanting to come out.

  Xavier sweeps me against him, pushes my head to the side and plunges his sharp fangs through the silk scarf and into my vein.

  I moan. It feels like the force of a thousand horses are pulling blood from my veins, pulling every cell in my body up and off the ground, and the rush is almost as good as the first time I fed myself.

  But the feeding is over almost as quickly as it started and leaves me even weaker.

  Xavier releases me, and I stumble back.

  “Kneel, my child,” the priest says.

  I kneel on the cold marble.

  Lifting the scarf, the priest holds my head to the side as one of the boys collects the blood that drips from my open vein, catching every drop in his cup, until the puncture wounds close.

  King Xavier kneels opposite me.

  One of his mates, Sylvia I believe, approaches and kneels beside him. They look deeply into each other’s eyes and it’s impossible not to see their mutual desire, plus what looks like genuine love between them. Will I feel that, too? Can I?

  Xavier holds out his wrist to her, and she slashes it open with her fangs, drinking a few long gulps before holding his wrist out for the other altar boy to collect the royal blood in his cup. She kisses Xavier with her blood-drenched lips.

  “Thank you,” the priest says to Sylvia.

  Xavier breaks their kiss, licking the last of his blood from her chin, and then she stands, backing into the shadows as the altar boys each hand their cups of blood to the priest.

  It’s the moment of truth.

  If our love is real, if the words we spoke were true, then our blood when combined in the ceremonial bowl will combust.

  My heart thuds in my chest, unsure of which outcome I want as the priest speaks incantations and raises the bowls high above his head. Slowly, he tips them.

  The blood seems to flow in slow motion, one drop at a time descending toward the larger vessel below. The thick liquid strikes the bowl’s surface on both sides and drains toward the bottom, the streams sliding slowly toward each other to determine my fate.

  The first drops touch. Xavier gasps. Then our bloodlines completely intertwine and turn into… a small pool of blood.

  “Liar!” he shouts. “You don’t love me at all, you conniving little whore!”

  One of the guards lifts me roughly to my feet and immediately all four of the wooden stakes are pointed directly at my heart—two points in front, two in the back, one so firmly against me that blood trails down my exposed skin at the front of the gown.

  “Shall I grant you an easy death, Selina?” Xavier glares at me, hatred completely replacing the flash of love I saw earlier. “Should I command my men to penetrate your heart with those stakes right now?”

  Eyes narrowing, he shakes his head. “What a waste that would be. It only takes one stake to kill you. Perhaps the other three should penetrate you first—in all of the places I’ve fucked you.”

  “One down your throat.” He pushes his finger forcefully between my lips, then walks behind me. “One in your cunt.” He bends me forward and forces his fingers inside me. “But first, I think, one in your asshole.”

  I hear gasps and cheers from the crowd, then something sharp scratches my anus. No. He won’t. Even Xavier wouldn’t do that.

  Even this starved of blood I’d eventually heal—if I lived long enough—but it wouldn’t make the injury less painful or humiliating.

  “Let me!” Pike’s heavy boots shake the platform, and I close my eyes bracing for the pain. “Let me take care of her, Your Majesty. I will be sure that she suffers.”

  Xavier laughs. “Take her out of my sight, Pike! Use her as you wish and then kill her.”

  Chapter 3

  Selina

  The huge guard carries me draped over his shoulder. As we press through the room, the crowd tears the gown and thong from my body. They pull the diamond clips from my hair, the rings from my nipples, and fangs pierce my skin everywhere they can reach.

  Unwilling to die without a fight, I struggle against Pike’s hold, but he’s too strong. And the other vampires are persistent with their groping fingers and fangs.

  My very undignified exit from the Great Hall proves that Xavier’s promise is real; there’s no chance he’s going to go back on his threat to kill me this time. There’s no chance he’ll attempt wedding number fourteen.

  If he held out any hope we’d be married, he’d never allow this. In spite of what he’s let happen to me in the dungeons, King Xavier would never marry a vampire who’s been abused like this, in front of and by his court.

  Grunting, Pike starts to run, pushing the others off my body and out of his way. Clearly he wants to keep the pleasure of torturing me to himself, and by the time we reach the dungeon, I’m nearly passed out from the combination of fear and pain and hunger.

  He drapes me forward over an all too familiar padded bench, its leather stained with blood. My upper body falls over the far side of the angled bench, leaving me bent with my ass up, and I’m too weak to resist.

  I hear the clank of the shackles as he closes them around my ankles and wrists, but I’m so delirious, I can’t even sense the metal bindings’ bite.

  Pike secures leather straps around my waist to hold me in place, then standing in front of me, he places my chin in a ring to support my head, leaving my neck exposed and my face angled downward.

  A strip of leather inside the ring covers my eyes, and soon it will be tightened around the back of my head to prevent both sight and movement. I’ve been prepared in this setup many times before, left like this for weeks at a time, but today I’ve got nothing to lose. I’ll bite off any cock that gets near my mouth.

  But to my astonishment, instead of a cock I sense Pike’s wrist in front of my captive face, his vein exposed and within fang-striking distance.

  “Drink,” he says.

  “What kind of sick fuck are you?” My voice is hoarse and weak. “You want to make me stronger so your abuse can last longer?”

  My hunger’s so overpowering, my need for blood so heightened, even Pike’s blood smells enticing. More than enticing. With his wrist so close, his blood smells like a combination of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted: rare steak, chocolate, a fresh pe
ach on a hot day.

  My fangs release and I lick my lips, unable to control myself as my entire body yearns to have Pike’s blood in my mouth, in my body.

  But I don’t strike.

  He presses his wrist against my mouth. I hold my lips closed.

  I already caved in to one evil vampire today, said things I didn’t mean, convinced myself that I wanted things I didn’t. I won’t let it happen again.

  I do need blood to survive, but refuse to take his, even though Pike’s scent makes me want him more than I’ve wanted anything—ever. But if I’m going to die, I can die with an ounce of dignity.

  As I squeeze my lips tight, my fangs dig in to my own flesh and my mouth fills with my blood. I gulp it down, wishing it could help build my strength. But with my blood coming out of one place in my body and going into another, I’ll only grow temporarily weaker as I drain my blood supply faster than my body reabsorbs it.

  The struggle to keep my lips closed is so hard it hurts.

  I not only smell Pike’s blood, I can hear it. I’ve heard the heavy rush of blood before, but this is different. Pike’s blood sings to me in a voice so alluring, so overtly sexual and beautiful it overtakes my mind, my body. But that only proves how far gone I am. I’m so near death, I’m hallucinating.

  The door creaks and a set of footsteps signals that another guard’s in the room.

  “You done fucking her ass with that spike?” a male voice asks, and I hear the sound of a zipper. “I want a turn before the blood dries.”

  “Come near her,” Pike tells him, “and I’ll rip your dick off.”

  “Okay, okay.” The guard chuckles along with the sound of steel scraping on stone. He’s removed one of the weapons from the wall. “I won’t use my cock, then. This will work nicely.”

  My chest heaves in fear, remembering the barbed spears, the studded metal dildos and other objects on the walls of the dungeon.