Chapter 23
Snake
Snake stood on a platform in front of a crowd. Clad in a cloak, hands bound, a sharp prod jabbed his back.
“Move forward, freak. Give them the show they paid for.”
A sharper jab. He stepped into a bright spotlight. Rough hands tore off his cloak, exposing him to the throng. A woman in the front fainted.
“What’s that on his chest?” a man shouted.
Snake looked down. A tiny bulbous body dangled from his breastbone, wriggling madly. When the head lifted, the face staring back was his father’s.
“You’ll never get away from me, boy. I’m a part of you forever!”
“No!”
Snake sat up with a start. This was the third night he’d dreamed of his father and woken up terrified. He sat on the edge of the bed, feet cold against the floor, breath ragged.
He hadn’t laid eyes on King Asp in 182 years, much less given him a second thought. As soon as he’d left Vinterbourne, every memory of his past life—no matter how insignificant—had been buried deep inside his subconscious.
Why was his past coming back to torment him now?
It has to be that wonky portal Gunner made.
Maybe the force of it cracked open the fortress he’d built. Or maybe it only awakened his memories. Now restless, they crawled from their grave to demand he make a choice: face them or suffocate under their weight.
I think it’s time I visited my father. And my past.
Head high, he would march into the throne room and shove the truth down King Asp’s throat: that he’d risen from nothing to become a billionaire without his father’s help.
But not in pirate attire.
Careful not to wake Sugar or Suki, he slipped into the walk-in closet and shut the door.
Somewhere in here was the royal uniform he’d worn to his prep school graduation.
After a thorough search, he unearthed the two trunks his nanny had sent years after he’d fled home.
One was stuffed with useless relics. The other held his most precious possession.
He went to the large steamer trunk first, wincing at the sight of his full name emblazoned under the lock.
Snake Draven Morcant Vinter III – Crown Prince of Vinterbourne.
The pretentious name shackled him to a kingdom he never wanted.
Still, when he opened the lid, the scent of home punched him in the chest with a crushing blow.
Inside, linen-wrapped parcels were neatly stacked: his crown, old textbooks, and his royal uniform.
Clean and pressed, the epaulets still gleamed.
He tugged on the suit coat, but it wouldn’t button over his muscular adult body.
After stuffing the crown on his head, he turned to face the mirror.
The sight of his younger self dragged up the memory of his last night in Vinterbourne.
· · ·
The school chum bent over the mattress was moaning too loudly.
“Fuck me harder, Snake.”
He held Victore’s hips as he pounded his curvy ass. “Shh, the walls have ears.”
“This is more fun,” Victore paused to grunt, “than a stupid graduation party.” He gasped. “You’re so good with your dick—fuck—I’m gonna come.”
Right as Victore was dampening the sheets and Snake was spilling into his clenching hole, the door flung open. His father marched in, bold as brass.
Snake dismounted Victore. “It’s polite to knock.”
“Kings never knock.” Asp flicked a glance at the boyfriend du jour. “I’m sure you can find your dignity, as well as your way out?”
“Yes, your majesty, of course.” Victore yanked up his trousers and vanished.
Asp chuckled. “I, too, would have slipped away from my graduation soiree to quench my thirst inside such a tender ass. Is he as tight as he looks?”
“Not as tight as he was before he met me.” Snake wiped his cock on the bedspread while holding his father’s gaze.
“I hope you said your goodbyes. Your days of youthful dalliance are over.”
“Over?” Snake fastened his trousers. “Old man, I’m just getting started.”
Asp stepped forward. “You’re eighteen years old and the next in line to rule the most prestigious kingdom in the universe. When I say playtime is over, it’s over.”
“What about what I say, Father?” Snake squared his shoulders.
“Silly child, you have no say. Your future has been locked in since conception. In one month, you’ll marry the beautiful Princess Ruby of Fyrebourne and will use your abundance of sexual energy to create an heir or two.
” Asp sat and fussed with his cufflinks.
“One future day, when I tire of running the country, I’ll have trained you well enough to take over. ”
“Marry Princess Ruby? Don’t get me wrong, Father, I adore women, but I’m as gay as you can get.”
Asp white-knuckled the arms of the chair—a hair’s breadth from losing his temper. Snake flashed him a cheeky grin.
“Don’t believe me? Go ask your dear friend Professor Silverthorn. The horny bastard can barely walk a straight line after I’ve finished buggering his ancient ass.”
Asp leapt to his feet and hissed. “You ungrateful little bastard. How dare you speak to me as if I’m a peasant and you’re lord of the manor.” He grabbed Snake by the throat and lifted him into the air. “You will marry whomever I choose, is that clear?”
“Never!”
Snake tried to pry his father’s hands from his neck, but Asp’s strength was legendary. A fledgling vampire like himself was no match.
“I swear on your mother’s life, I will kill you right now.”
“Mother’s dead.” Snake’s vision clouded, and the room turned gray. Seconds later, his body slammed against the floor with full force.
Asp loomed, fangs bared, silver eyes gone black. Snake knew he only had one chance to change his father’s mind.
“I’m an embarrassment. Give the crown to Cobra, the younger but hungrier son. He dreams of taking the throne.” He forced himself to stand. “I’ll never give you an heir. My cock shrivels at the sight of pussy.”
Asp breathed deeply. “Have you forgotten all that I’ve taught you? Vampires are never faithful. You’ll both have many lovers on the side, in any flavor you choose. As long as you keep up appearances, your existence will be comfortable.”
“I have to live against my true nature to keep up appearances. For whom?”
“For Vinterbourne!” Asp unsheathed his short sword. “Agree or die.”
“I choose death.”
Time stopped as he and his father locked eyes. A glimmer of hope flickered in his belly, only to be stomped out a blink later, when his father punched a hole in the wall.
“Get in your closet.”
“I’m a man. You can’t lock me up anymore!”
“Get. In. Your. Closet!”
“I will never let you imprison me again.” He tore open his shirt. “You want me dead, Father? Then stab me through the fucking heart!”
Asp launched himself at Snake, pushed him against the wall, and raised his sword. “How can you make me do this?” The words tore from his throat in an anguished cry.
“Easy, Father.” Snake smiled. “I hate you.”
A blur of metal as the blade sliced through the air. Instead of burying it in Snake’s chest, Asp stabbed the paneling. After one last cold stare, he spoke.
“Leave this castle and never return. If you do, I will kill you.”
“Not if I kill you first.”
· · ·
Snake yanked off the crown and tossed it aside before struggling out of the tight coat. Had he really been so small? Staring into the mirror, he saw a stranger wearing his skin.
Who am I?
He turned his attention toward the smaller case—a simple wooden box sealed with enchantments that he broke with a wave of his hand. Nestled beneath folds of red silk, she waited for him, ever patient in her slumber.
Frances Desdemona Raven-Vinter. His mother.
Snake lifted the doll with reverence, surprised at how such a delicate thing could feel so heavy in his hands. A soft click broke the silence as her porcelain eyes opened, revealing glass eyes the color of blood.
“I’m sorry I haven’t visited in so long, Mum. I’ve been a bit of a fuck-up. But you know that all too well, don’t you?”
Nanny crafted the doll as a vessel for Snake’s memories. She’d rooted real strands of his mother’s raven hair into the ebony porcelain scalp and had created the tiny gown from one of her dresses. Kissing each smooth cheek, he inhaled the scent of roses and lavender.
“I forgot how beautiful you were.”
A memory stirred, faint but persistent. He was five again, laughing as he tossed his baby brother’s favorite teddy bear into the fireplace. The scent of burning wool still lingered when Mummy walked in. She’d sat in the rocking chair by the hearth and patted her knee.
Ashamed, he crawled into her lap, eyes down to avoid her gaze.
“Why did you do that to Cobra’s toy?” she asked softly. “He’s very sad.”
“Daddy said I’m too good to be a Vinterbourne. So, I thought if I was bad, he might like me better. He doesn’t like me much.”
Mummy stroked his hair while the rocker creaked under them. “Daddy loves you, angel, but he shows it differently than I do.” She kissed the top of his head.
“You hug me and give me tickles. Daddy screams and puts me in the corner. I like hugs better. Can’t you make him be more like you?”
“I can’t make your father be any sort of way. He is who he is, and I am who I am. He’s from Vinterbourne, and I’m from Ravenbourne.” She gave him a squeeze. “You, my son, are both. Half me. Half your father.”
Snake sniffled into her chest. “I don’t understand, Mummy.”
“You’re a half-breed vampire, my love. There will always be two sides to you. One that fights fiercely, and one that loves ferociously.”
She tilted up his chin until he met her eyes, deep and beautiful. “You weren’t made wrong. You were made to be both.”
Back then, Snake didn’t understand his mother’s words. But he did now, and the realization blazed through him. Two sides, one lethal, one loving. Both Snake. Still cradling the doll, he did something he hadn’t done in 182 years.
He cried.