CHAPTER EIGHT

B rayden left Willow a few hours later, knowing she was in a deep sleep and needed the rest.

He arrived back at the enormous property with mixed emotions; joy at the idea of spending a week with her, enjoying her body, and trepidation about allowing a human into his world.

The fact was, he couldn’t.

He flashed into his home and changed. He could never bring her here, where dozens of vampires wandered around. She would be safe with him, but there would be no hiding who they were.

Even sex with her was a risk at this point. The way it felt when he entered her, the noises she made, caused his cock to get so damn hard it was becoming near impossible to keep from baring his fangs. He’d nearly bitten her twice last night.

There was no way he would risk it.

One bite, and the vampire change process would begin. The blood link would connect them and that was appealing. His need to protect and dominate her making his cock twitch. Of course, it was much more complicated than that, but it would expose who he was, and he’d have to wipe her memory and leave her.

Or he could change her and keep her. But that was something he would never do.

When he let her go, she would be free to mate with another man. Anger flared within him just thinking of it. Shaking his head, he pushed away the thoughts, frustrated by the way they consumed him.

He had no fucking choice. One day very soon, he’d have to let her go. But not today.

No, not fucking today. Or tomorrow.

He’d written his cell phone number on a piece of paper and left it beside the bed, something he’d never given to another female.

While vampires could speak telepathically with each other, it was only possible with those you had swapped blood with. That took trust. Or dominance.

For example, with Craig, it was easy. They had a powerful bond, a trust that had formed from a history neither of them could change.

With his next tier of command, he had demanded it. While it still required trust, none of them would be in their roles if trust hadn’t existed from his part or from any of them. They all desired to serve him and the king.

As blood brothers, the Moretti princes had connected the moment Brayden was born. Their blood was potent, creating an immediate telepathic bond.

Now Kate shared their blood as their queen, and she too could connect with them. She was a Moretti.

Willow would wake up to find the note in a few hours. He smiled, knowing it would make her happy. It also pleased him to know, if she needed anything, she could reach him. Though he wouldn’t be able to go to her if it were daylight, and that bothered him.

He shook his head.

In a week, he had to let her go. With an imminent move back east and his ascension to the throne, he’d soon be distracted and forget all about the beautiful human. Once home, Brayden could have all the females he wanted.

They would be treated as concubines unless it was his mate. Then it was a whole different matter—the path to becoming queen was a complex and serious endeavor. Rich in tradition, like all royal families, when a female was identified as a king’s mate, they were taken under the wing of the family and groomed for their new position.

Vincent and Kate had been in a unique situation when they bonded. He’d just been crowned king in the wake of their parents’ deaths, and she had been a young vampire already a member of the court. She had escaped much of the tradition due to Vincent’s denial of her as his mate until he couldn’t any longer. It had been a source of much amusement for Brayden and Craig. Less so for the queen herself.

He cringed mildly at the memory.

While Kate was his queen, as second in line, Brayden remained her senior. Brayden’s position was his birthright, one which would only change should his brother produce an heir of his own, and then only once the child reached its one hundredth birthday.

While there was some speculation as to the reason for the lack of heirs—as in zero—from the royal couple, vampires didn’t reproduce at the same rate as humans or animals, so the expectation had not yet peaked. Now, though, with his brother’s declining health, he hoped they were mating like rabbits to produce a little vamp or two.

Even if he or she didn’t mature before Vincent had to step down—or worse—Brayden could take care of the role in the meantime. It was the best option. He was unable to produce an heir until he met his mate. There were no accidental pregnancies in the vampire world—females could only get pregnant once they mated and their cycles kicked in. And thankfully they couldn’t impregnant humans, so there were no half vampires running around the world.

If the royal couple were able to get pregnant, it would mean there was an end date to sitting on that damn throne.

As in, not for-fucking-ever.

He felt sick to his stomach. All he could see was an endless future with carefully chosen whores, paperwork, and politics. Yawn-fucking-yawn.

His role for hundreds of years had been as captain of the Royal Army. He had no desire to change that. He excelled in it and was born for it.

Even before their father’s death, he’d been in his role, while Vince was the one pushing papers around the desk. He didn’t disrespect the kingly duties; they were simply different. The brothers were close, and while they’d disagreed on many things over the years, the tension between them right now was unique. It had never occurred to him he would become king.

Brayden stepped out of his rooms and made his way across the courtyard while the sun remained hidden from view.

“Bray,” Craig said, the guy’s voice deep.

“Hey.”

“Where you been? Let me guess, living it up between those juicy breasts.” He grinned.

Brayden growled and felt his fangs slip out from behind his lips.

“Jesus.” Craig’s brows drew together, and he took a step away. Not much surprised the dark and dangerous vampire.

Brayden coughed, clearing his throat, trying to pretend it hadn’t happened.

But it had. Shit. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Dude, have you...?”

“No. Fuck. No. Nope.” His reaction had been reminiscent of a bonded male. Thank God it had happened in front of his trusted friend and not anyone else. “Keep this to yourself, you hear me.”

Craig held up his hand. “Sure, just keep it on the down low or...”

“I hurt the human. All I’m doing is making sure she’s okay,” he snarled. It was a lie, and they both knew it.

What hung delicately in the air between them was the fact that as a royal son, it was expected he brought his soulmate into the family immediately. If Vincent got even a sniff of who she might be, he would demand it.

And it would be forever.

It was said to be for their protection and immersion into their culture as the mating unfolded, but that was bullshit. As the mate of a royal member, you became the possession of the royal family because you could breed. It was about survival and longevity of the royal blood. Simple as that.

Kate had already been a vampire and a member of the royal court, so there had been little fanfare in that regard.

Brayden imagined Willow being dragged into his world and felt sick. She’d be terrified.

His mother had been one of those possessions, the choice taken away from her. Frances, his father, had already been king, and she just a young, virginal farm girl. Not a gentle man, his father had taken her and turned her against her will.

It was said she had screamed and cried for one hundred days and nights. Eventually, she had forgiven him, been crowned queen, and birthed the two princes.

During the nearly one thousand years he had shared with his mother, Guiliana had told him of the lingering sadness she always felt at losing her humanity. She would speak of the sunshine on her skin, of bright blue days spent splashing in the sea and making sandcastles. They had taken the choice from her.

The resentment he’d seen flashing across her eyes when they spoke privately had not sat well with him. For a long while, he had harbored his own resentment toward his father, until his mother had asked him to forgive and let it go.

He had, but not until he’d made a vow to his future mate; should she be human, the choice would be hers completely. Brayden would never force the change.

Of course, there were consequences in doing that. If said mate walked away, their memories were taken from them, and for the rest of their life, they would suffer unexplainable heartache, one likely to be explained away as depression by the human medical doctors, and medicated. Or worse. He’d heard the stories of suicide and broken hearts. Literally, humans suffering heart attacks.

Vampires only had one mate. If you were lucky, you met them early on in your long life. In Brayden’s case, he had filled the time getting lots of practice in among the human and vampire races. Nothing like meeting your mate with a bag full of experience, he figured, all of which was a load of rubbish. He loved sex, as did most vampires.

So, while the human’s life was filled with anguish, depression, and unexplained heartache, the vampire also suffered.

Their selfless choice of letting their mate go came at a cost. They would never love again. They remembered every single detail of their mate and the love shared between them. Theirs was a long life, and the memories never faded, the loss deep and painful enough to send even the strongest vampire into a despondent darkness.

Still, forcing someone to give up their humanity and watching them hate you for eternity? He pictured Willow with that look on her face and shivered.

Not that she was his mate. Just as an example.

The bonded connection was for eternity, and mates could communicate through telepathy and call for each other through the blood bond.

He had faith in his mate, whoever she ended up being. She would choose him. It would be fine. His challenge would be when he finally met them, keeping their relationship a secret so they could do things in their own time. Heck, it could happen any day now or in two thousand years.

With more eyes on him as Vincent’s disease progressed, it made things more difficult. If he were king, it would be near impossible.

He shook his head and slapped Craig on the back. “Come on. We’re late for the meeting.”

They wandered across the courtyard talking shit, which suited him just fine. He knew his longtime friend and second in command would have his back and give him space. For now.

It was no biggie. Willow had agreed to a week of delicious sex, and he was going to enjoy every single day. He just had to figure out how to show her his world...without showing her his world.

Right now, he had to pull up his big boy pants and be the king’s brother.

Or more accurately, Prince Brayden.

They walked into the hall, which acted as their royal throne room. It looked more like a corporate boardroom set up for a video conference where the event planner had mistakenly ordered two misplaced chairs.

The two red and gold thrones sat at the front of the room, facing a long rectangular board table. Vamps milled around the room, pouring glasses of blood and talking shit.

His soldiers stood guard at the door in their black Moretti uniforms, looking like ninjas. The royal logo was visible on their chests. Trained to protect the royal family, the soldiers would kill or maim as necessary without conscience.

“My lord.”

The one he was looking right through, lost in thought, nodded to him before he glanced away. He gave the guy a brief nod and wondered what Willow would think of him being a referred to as a prince or lord. She’d likely laugh.

He felt the queen’s eyes on him, but as he turned, she glanced away, smiling at something her mate said.

“There you are, Brayden!” the king boomed. Truly, the guy only had one volume. “Let’s commence now that the prince has graced us with his presence.”

Usually he gave some smart-ass comment, but today he simply took his seat and crossed his arms behind his head. Vincent squinted his eyes at him for a moment, then continued with all the kingly stuff.

Brayden held two positions during these mind-blowingly boring weekly sessions: prince and captain of the Royal Army.

Craig, his second in command; the king’s secretary, Seraphina; and the king’s advisor, Regan, who had also been their father’s advisor, sat to his left. On the opposite side of the table were the commercial team made up by the communications director, Murphy; the foreign affairs lead, Martin; the head of business, Amelia; and the lead legal counsel, Philip.

Living in a human world meant they needed to play by their rules to some degree. Their commercial team managed their business dealings and investments, even if it meant manipulating memories and human global records to keep their existence a secret.

On the wall, a screen lit up, and their Europe, Asia, and Australasian teams appeared on the digital tiles.

The usual weekly order of business was discussed: activity in the regions, security concerns, commercial and financial updates the king thought the wider team needed to be aware of, exposure concerns, and finally, the event calendar.

“We need confirmation of the royal ball, your majesty,” Sean, the head of Europe, stated.

“What is the date?” Vincent looked to Seraphina.

“It’s five weeks away, so if your majesty is ready to make a decision, we can prepare the ballroom.”

The king looked around the room. His eyes landed on Brayden’s, who quickly glanced at the queen as his own eyes widened in question. She narrowed her eyes in response, then returned them to her king with a small smile.

What the hell?

“We return to Maine in a week. Proceed with plans at the castle.”

Brayden froze, his stomach dropping. With a dry mouth, he attempted to remain calm, knowing they could all hear his increased heart rate.

“Wait a minute. When was this decided? I thought we were cancelling this year. I’ll need to rearrange security. I don’t...”

“Leave us,” Vincent demanded with a quick glance at the screen and room.

With nods and mutters of your majesty, the video stream disconnected, and the room’s occupants were reduced to the royal inner circle: Regan, Brayden, and the royal couple.

As the others left the room, including his soldiers, he stood and stretched his legs.

“Sit down, Brayden.”

“No, thanks, I asked a question. When was this decided?”

Kate stood up and placed her hand on his arm. “Just now. We’re all finding out at the same time as you. No one is blindsiding you.”

He glanced over at his brother. “So, you’re giving up?”

He nodded.

Fuck.

He looked down at Kate, and through gritted teeth, said, “Get into your bedroom and make a fucking baby. Please!”

She shook her head sadly and walked back to the throne. Yeah, he knew they’d all heard. Regan knew all the family secrets, as he had since his father had been king.

He was the only outsider trusted.

“Prince Brayden, if I may, you are well suited for this role if, or when, the time comes. I have absolute faith in you,” the old vamp said.

He glared at Vincent.

“I don’t want the damn crown!” he yelled and saw the hurt on the king’s face. “I’m sorry, brother, but between losing you and taking on a life I’ll despise, you cannot expect me to be happy about this!”

The room went quiet. It was the first time he’d shared his raw feelings. Yes, he hated the idea of being king, but nobody had considered that he was losing his brother. He’d already lost his parents in the most devastating way, and now this.

He wasn’t a snowflake, for God’s sake, but death was unnatural for vampires. He was losing his entire family.

He heard Kate catch a sob in her throat.

“Oh, shit.” The king pulled Kate into his arms and frowned at him. Brayden didn’t begrudge his reaction; any mated vamp would do the same if his female were hurt.

“Sorry.”

Vincent shook his head in response, as if to say don’t be. His eyes held his for a moment, acknowledging his pain, neither of them sure how to deal with it.

Brayden kicked the floor with his large black Nike.

“Seven days, Bray. We leave in seven days.” Vincent released his mate and sat back on his throne, running a hand through his short brown hair. “Go play with your human, have your fill, then we return to Maine and begin your training.”

Brayden died a little inside.

He turned and walked out of the room.