Purebreds and Power

The once dreary castle came to life as every nook, cranny, and carved piece of wood gleamed with original glory. The crystal of the opulent chandeliers sparkled, revealing tiny rainbows that danced across the glass and mirrored walls. The overgrown gardens flourished with life as steady hands manicured them with precision.

Han watched the hustle and bustle outside with his hands clasped behind his back. He stood in the shadows of the second-story window as the sun peaked overhead.

Sleep had eluded him for days. And although not required, resting the mind and body helped to ease Han’s darkened spirit. But every waking thought centered on Lilly. And every sleeping minute brought dreams of her.

Her luscious skin, her flowing hair, her beautiful eyes.

Her witty mouth, her seductive lips, her alluring smile.

Han grinned.

Her strong spirit, her origins, her hand entwined.

Her bare legs. Her in his arms. Her betrothal.

To another.

Han punched through the window in front of him. The shards of glass remained, jutting from his skin.

Han watched his blood drip onto the floor.

An unexpected side-effect.

“My Lord! Is everything alright?” James grabbed the injured hand and flipped it back and forth, furrowing his brows.

“I’m fine.” Han pulled away and tore the glass from his flesh, dropping it onto the polished floor. The wounds knit themselves back together instantly.

“In all my years, I have never seen you—”

“Not a word, James.”

“But doesn’t this mean that you—”

“Not. A. Word.”

“Yes, my liege.”

Han flipped his hand back and forth, brushed his fingers over the newly healed injury, and sighed.

Only two days and he would see her again.

---

The black fabric would not cooperate. Han pulled the end and undid the bow.

Again.

The tenth time looked even worse than the ninth--Han screamed at the top of his lungs.

To no end.

“Ridiculous, sound-proof rooms.”

Han stepped to the wall and pushed a small black button. “James, I could use your assistance.”

“You haven’t needed my assistance in some time, my liege.”

“Just get here and provide it, James.”

With a slight chuckle, Han turned towards the selection of new ties sitting on his bed. Another one lay shredded in the garbage.

James pointed to the trash and raised an eyebrow in question.

“That one is defective.”

“Of course, sir. Allow me to help.”

James stepped forward and unbuttoned the fine Italian fabric of the slim-fit suit coat. Then flipped the turned-down collar. With nimble fingers, James arranged the satin tie and gave it one final tug.

“Will she be here this evening, my lord?”

“Yes.”

“I am sure she will adore you as you already do her, Sir.”

“She is to be betrothed, James.” Han straightened his jacket, again. “To another.”

“That does pose an interesting problem. Doesn’t it, sir.”

“It does.”

“I am sure you will find a way to resolve it, though, won’t you, sir?”

“I will.”

“Guests, including your father, have already arrived, sir. Please follow me.”

Han took a deep breath, fingered both of his crested cuff links, and gave his sleeves one final quick pull. With both hands, he smoothed his arched brows and checked his hair in the mirror.

“You look spectacular as usual, if I may be so bold, sir.”

“As expected, James.” Han patted James on the shoulder. “But thank you.”

---

Glasses clinked, and orchestral music filled the air when Han’s patent leather shoes hit the foyer’s marble floor. Sensing the instant change in the atmosphere--a mixture of feral testosterone and muted power-- the guests quieted.

“Welcome to my home.” Han scanned the room full of visitors, head held high. “I wish you all a wonderful evening. Enjoy.”

Cheers ran out as glasses clinked again.

Perfumed and powdered party-goers pranced through the grand estate--the smell nearly overwhelming. Servants passed overflowing trays of food and beverages. Goblets of blood on golden platters replaced the need for slaves.

“Fae, 1873, I believe. Such a good year.”

“You can taste the fear. And the magic. Delicious.”

“I much prefer my food from the source,” Chamberlain sipped, then stared at the contents of the glass and nodded to Han in greeting

“My house, my rules.” Han shook the hands of Chamberlain’s companions.

“Of course, my liege,” Chamberlain forced a smile.

The tuft of dirty blonde hair kept Han on the move while Alpha Dax Aurus strode from the ballroom down a back hallway.

A shorter brunette followed the wolf without a word.

Servants mingled in the corridors, bowing as Han moved past. The scent of lavender led into the cold cellar--home to his wine collection and storage.

One door shut as another opened.

“Alpha Aurus, what brings you to this part of my home?” Han tilted his chin and raised an eyebrow.

“I had heard you had a rare vintage from Lilly’s father. I didn’t want to impose upon your house staff, so they directed me.” Dax cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, I could not find it.”

“The early Roman wine, perhaps?”

“Yes! Yes. That’s the one. Might I trouble you to see it?”

“It would be my pleasure. Please rejoin the party, and I shall return in a moment.”

“Wonderful. Thanks, Han!” Dax patted the vampire lord’s shoulder and let out a breath as he walked away. Halfway down the hall, Dax paused and looked behind him and then resumed his original path.

When Han heard the cellar door clang shut, he examined the second door. Someone had pulled the door shut in haste, and it didn’t quite latch. The room remained dark; light from the hallway illuminating the first few feet.

As Han moved towards the darkness, an elbow hit his lower stomach.

The small gasp felt like music to his ears.

“Lilly.”

“How, how, h-h-ow, what?” Lilly leaned back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. Cocooned in his strength, she stared into the darkness.

Han looked down at Lilly’s naturally curly hair, which laid pin straight across his arms. With careful movement, Han brought his cold hand up to the side of her head, and she leaned ever-so-slightly into his touch.

That’s when the smell of dried blood overwhelmed him, and Han remembered where he was.

The Red Room.

Wide, lifeless eyes stared into the darkness--each set focused in different directions--and their heads twisted abnormally from their bodies. A steady trickle of blood dripped onto the floor, creating an irregular beat when it struck the cold concrete.

Stripped bare, the bodies lay in various states of decay--one piled on top of another. Some extended their arms in front of them, reaching for life that would never come. Others sagged, discolored in decay as insects roamed their orifices.

Viscous crimson liquid pooled near the edge of Lilly’s open-toed shoes. Her manicured toenails edged dangerously close to once life-giving substance.

Plain coffins leaned against the blocked walls with a shovel wedged under their edge stopped them from sliding.

Han spun Lilly around so she faced him, and he crouched, so they stood eye to eye.

“What is this place? Who are these people?”

“Suppliants, Lilly. Tributes. People who offered themselves willingly for my kind to feed.”

“I thought they lived lavish lives, and they just performed sexual favors and lost some blood in exchange for wealth. I thought… I thought… I thought they didn’t die like this.”

“They came knowing the risks, Lilly. We are monsters. Demons who defy logic and are not perfect.” Han stroked Lilly’s hair then skimmed his hand down until he clasped her hands in his own. “We make mistakes. They make mistakes. And often those mistakes cost them their lives.”

“What mistakes could this many women make?” Lilly squeezed Han’s hands as she looked him directly in the eyes.

“They pretended to be you, my love.”

A single tear trailed down Lilly’s cheek.

Han pulled Lilly into his chest and dropped his head forward, relishing the pounding of her heart against him.

“You are my mate, Han,” Lilly sobbed. “But I am a werewolf. Mixed blood is forbidden. And Dax. My father . . . We can never—”

“We can, my love. But there can be no doubt, Lilly. You are mine--body and soul--but only you can give me your heart. For this to work, you must trust me. I know I must earn that trust, but you can have no doubts that you want this. Us. Come to me willingly, and I will make you mine. Forever.”

“How would that work? Han—”

“We must go. We can’t be found like this..” Han squeezed Lilly and pressed a kiss onto her head. He took a step back and cupped her cheeks. “Willingly, Lilly. Come to me and be mine forever.”

Lilly smiled and closed her eyes--then focused on the man before her. “I’ve messed up your suit with my makeup and tears.”

“Worth it for this moment. Leave now. Take the first hallway and follow that to the stairs. You can refresh yourself before returning.”

“But your suit—”

“I will do the same.”

“My mate…” Lilly stepped out of Han’s arms.

“My beloved.” Han smiled, and his heart calmed as Lilly hurried off.

He pulled his jacket up towards his face and took a deep breath.

Lavender.

Han stepped from the room, latched the door, and locked it. On any other day, someone would pay with their life for leaving the Red Room’s door open. But Lilly’s tears spared them.

Han paused in front of the double doors at the end of the hall--the room Dax emerged from earlier.

“Evening, Lord Kang,” a servant bowed before moving past.

“Who has been in here this evening?”

“No one but the usual, my lord.”

Han meandered through racks and racks of wine. Mingled in with his staff’s typical smells, Han noticed two others. One most certainly came from Dax. The other felt familiar yet unidentifiable.

He continued on intuition, moving further into the depths of the room--where only darkness ever reached. A steady silence shrouded the space, deep under the castle’s center. The severe chill in the air and the lack of light preserved the most ancient of bottles.

Glass cracked under Han’s shoe. That’s when another smell appeared.

And Han smiled.