The Vampire’s Lament (Blood Melody #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

PARIS

Why did reason always spoil a good time?

As much as I wanted King Silvanus to keep his lips on mine, a rational voice in my head told me to stop. To break away, to come back to the reality of being a vampire executioner. You know, hate the fanged fucker, not stick my tongue down his throat.

But he tastes so good, a different voice whined.

Citrussy and sweet and warm, wrapped in a promise of more to come, the melding of our flesh making my toes curl and my soul smile.

I want him.

I want him.

I want him.

The vampire king moaned softly into my mouth, his hand sliding down to my hip. His touch was electric, a force of power and wonder. My knees threatened to give out, my body alight with desire, ready for him to take me. Again, but minus him killing me this time.

Yeah, I liked that.

Our bodies pressed together against the chill of the ocean air, losing ourselves in the desire, anticipation crackling between us. Yeah. We were alone on Hawthorn Isle, away from the recent chaos of our lives in a pocket of solitude on a lonely island.

Would he take me? Would he lead me into the house behind him, throw me down on a bed, and ravage my body? The longer I kissed him, the more I wanted him to, a desperate yearning hot between my legs.

He killed you, the miserable voice whispered again. He made you his thrall and snapped your neck and—

I broke away from him, stepping back with the delicious vibration of his kiss on my lips. Immediately, my spirit dimmed from being left out in the cold, his body heat a warm blanket.

He also saved my life…

The damn battle of voices was pissing me off. But yeah, Silvanus had stopped Aidan from killing me in that tower.

Aidan. My deity, the thing I’d prayed to, poured so much faith and hope into. He was no longer a source of joy, only disgust.

A disgust that wrung out my soul like a dirty dish cloth.

How could this be real?

Cold air licked at me, a craving for Silvanus’s amazing body heat getting me twitching with need.

“Fuck,” I groaned, clutching the base of my throat. My head spun like a tornado, my knees about to give out.

“Are you alright?” he asked in his rich, sensual baritone.

I tried averting my gaze, but his scarlet eyes snared me, keeping my attention on him.

Just get in me, bloodsucker.

By Aidan, he was so handsome. A true work of art, carved from muscle and gorgeous pale-beige skin that always seemed to glisten with its own special glow.

Look at him. Look at that perfectly chiseled face, those kissable plump lips, those sharp cheekbones, and that sexy, tousled raven-black hair. Damn, the way it fell seductively over his eyes drove me crazy.

Why aren’t you in me yet?

My eyes wandered down his body. He wore black leather trousers and a red leather jacket, which hung open to reveal his muscular chest and abs. A plane of tight flesh my fingers wanted to explore.

I tugged on the collar of my T-shirt, suddenly too hot. He took my breath away when he really shouldn’t.

“Paris?” he questioned, the rumble of his voice too yummy for its own good.

Finally, I managed to dip my head, chewing my bottom lip.

“Paris?” he tried again.

“I’m sweetcream,” I answered, taking another step back.

I watched his black boots inch closer. “You don’t look well.”

Charming.

I returned my gaze to him, steeling myself against his masculine deliciousness. “I…” I drew some deep breaths. “I’m just confused.” Folding my arms, I felt my forehead crease. “Understatement, right? Everything’s confusing and hurtful and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He moved closer. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for kissing you, for everything.”

“I started it,” I countered, licking my lips nervously.

And I want more…

He didn’t answer.

Man, he looked so vulnerable, so sweet. Damn. Why did my heart flinch multiple times in a row?

I dropped my arms, flexing my fingers. “Silvanus…”

“I’m not sure how to proceed,” he added. “My mind is full, and I’m tired. So, so tired.” He lifted his eyes to the starry night sky, saying nothing more.

I took a step forward, my own thoughts a storm in my head.

We were dealing with so much. Like the fact Aidan wasn’t a benevolent force of good but a fucking monster hellbent on dominance. And he wasn’t one deity like I’d believed, but one of four, each of them representing the species of Quintrealm.

Which made me wonder if there was a fifth one for the Hinterlands. Had it been a domain of some other species once upon a time?

Hmmm…

Due to Aidan being a piece of shit, he’d killed the other deities, tried taking over the vampire realm, and unleashed a curse on the world to sully our minds.

Manipulated us into the story of how he saved us all in the ancient days, getting us to build temples, even gifting us with magic—Aidan’s fire.

It’d all been a lie.

It’d all been made possible because of Silvanus’s mercy. Confused by grief and love, his actions spared Aidan’s life, allowing him to fuck with, well, everything.

My beliefs were scattered to the winds, my heart broken. Man, talk about a fall from piety. I might not be the most moral elf in the world, but I always thought I understood right from wrong on a basic level.

Until the truth forced my head out of my arse.

I didn’t blame Silvanus for any of this. That would be too easy. He was a victim of Aidan’s schemes, more so than the rest of us. He’d given him his love, for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, I’d been the one to set him free from that damn tower.

“Shall we go inside?” the vampire king asked.

I nodded, eyeing the slate house, the singular hawthorn tree rustling above me, sending me its energy-boosting essence.

“Thanks, sweetie,” I told it, complementing its shimmering leaves for good measure.

Having flora recharge my batteries was a perk of being an elf, and my presence gave them a boost too. The green of the leaves became more vibrant, each of them growing in size along with the branches.

I loved to see it.

Silvanus watched, his lips cocked into a faint smile.

My cheeks heated a little, but I smiled back.

“Fascinating,” he purred.

The ivy crawling across the house responded to me next, the sensation in my body amazing from all these planty gifts.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

The king cocked his head to the side, his left eyebrow quirking.

Damn, my cheeks were clearly turning a vibrant shade of crimson. “Oh. Shit. Not you. I meant the ivy.”

He chuckled. “Don’t panic, Paris.”

“Who’s panicking?” I protested.

He turned his back on me, shoulders shaking from his gentle laughter, the sound soft yet deep. Irritating and infectious, a chortle of my own tumbled from my mouth.

What a muddled existence I led lately.

A gust of bitter air rolled across the weed-choked garden. I shivered, longing for a banket and an open fire. Throw in a hot bath and I’d be in heaven.

“I’ll light the fire,” Silvanus said, opening the front door.

“You read my mind,” I whispered.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “I can’t read your mind.”

Oof. The guy looked so serious. “Turn of phrase, man.” And thank fuck he couldn’t read my thoughts. They were far too complicated.

And filthy!

“I see.” He smirked and entered the house, the shadows swallowing him.

The prick was pulling my leg.

Pull whatever you like!

With a sigh, I drew luck down my chest and followed him, expecting to enter a dusty domain with cobwebs and broken floorboards.

But when Silvanus turned on the lights, a space of plush emerald carpet and biscuit-brown walls greeted me.

We were surrounded by earthy colors with traces of gold, lots of pine furniture, and plenty of jasmine.

Just like his bedroom at his palace on Hurlock Island. It grew everywhere, accompanied by lots of flowers—white roses, orchids, lilies. So pretty, so fragrant. Apparently, he’d been a forest lover in his home realm of Selene Haven. Which explained the décor here and in his royal chambers.

I liked it, my senses practically singing with happiness as I greeted every plant.

One day, I’d like to live in a forest like a proper elf.

“Nice place,” I said, eyes roaming, nostrils filled with the rich bouquet of floral scents.

There was a curved stairwell in the middle of the big room, and a large brown corner sofa before the fireplace with a coffee table on a gold rug. Lots of bookshelves too, along with an open-plan kitchen.

“Bedroom,” he pointed at the stairs, “and bathroom.”

Just the one bed? I wanted to ask. “Awesome,” I replied instead.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

He got to work on the open fire, the mantelpiece green with golden floral details. Three golden vases sat on the mantel, each one filled with lilies.

I watched him crouch by the logs, turning a small valve on the floor. The flames caught straight away, getting to crackling. No flint or matches required here.

Nice.

“This fireplace heats the entire house,” he explained, still crouched. “There are devices within the walls which circulate the heat into every corner, which also heats the water tank.” He stood up. “It’s a clever house with an endless supply of water, designed to withstand all weather.”

“So, it’s cool in the summer?” I asked.

He nodded. “By always lighting the fire, cold or not. Strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I guess.” I’d lived through stranger things.

“I won’t bore you with the details, but the ocean water is sucked into the system and repurposed for drinking, bathing, and everything else.”

Vampires didn’t need to drink water, but they did bathe. “Sounds impressive. Kind of like a super complicated central heating system.”

He faced me. “I didn’t build it.”

“Okay.” I brushed the front of my T-shirt.

“But it is a feat of vampire engineering and mage magic,” he added. “All I have to do is make sure the fire is lit every month, according to the manual.”

“There’s a manual?”

“Yes. I found it under the bed.”

The fire grew in size, warmth filling the room quickly.

“But this décor is all you, right?”

“Yes.”