The Queen's Protectors (A Throne of Blood Book 1) Page 10

  Elliot holds up a finger. “Actually, I don’t drink te—”

  Kaleo grabs him by the collar and steers him into the next room, practically shoving the omega through the door.

  We enter the lavish dining room. My stomach rumbles when my eyes take in the breakfast set on the long, mahogany table. Croissants. Bagels. Waffles. Scones. Jam. Clotted cream. Orange juice. A glass pitcher of blood for Ronan, and, the pièce de résistance, a full English breakfast for me, placed beside my favorite wolf mug. Funny how anything dog related now reminds me of Elliot. Hmmm, perhaps I’ll buy a collar for him. It’s been a while since I’ve collared any of my lovers.

  I pause at the dining room door. The food remains untouched. “Were you all waiting for me before you started eating?” A sharp pang stabs me in the chest. I glance fleetingly at Kaleo, who grins at me. “Kaleo didn’t mention that.”

  “I think his mouth was already otherwise engaged,” Ronan drawls, rubbing my shoulder.

  I shiver under his touch. “Yeah. You’re right.”

  “Hey, can you really blame me?” Kaleo shrugs his shoulders. He takes a waffle and begins chewing. “Our queen slept for sixteen hours. I missed her.”

  I pale at his words. “I slept for how long?”

  Ronan guides me over to my seat. He pushes the chair underneath as I lower myself down. “You were exhausted. You needed substantial rest.”

  I pick up my cutlery and begin dipping the sausage into a bowl of baked beans. Still warm. At least they didn’t wait too long. Chewing on the delicious meat, I digest what Ronan said. I’ve never in my life slept for that long. My half-vampire nature doesn’t usually allow me to. The longest I’ve ever slept is about six hours.

  “It must be because of the kitsune,” I say, pressing a cloth napkin to my lips. “When I fell into her memories, I felt tired afterward. I guess I didn’t realize just how exhausted I was.”

  Kaleo leans against the table, munching away on more waffles, while Elliot sits on a chair beside him. “You did get a big workout, too.”

  Grabbing a croissant, Elliot mumbles over a mouthful, “I tried waking you up for dinner, but you were out like a light. Never believed the expression ‘slept like a log’ until now.”

  “He never moved from your bed the entire time,” Kaleo tells me, ruffling a hand through Elliot’s unruly hair. “Curled up at the bottom of your bed in his wolf form. Such a loyal little pup.”

  Ronan pours himself a glass of blood and takes a seat in the chair beside me. “I think you’re right,” he says, swirling the liquid in his glass. “When your mother’s spell lifted, your powers must have awoken. It seems to me you’ve been gifted with the rare ability of telepathic persuasion.”

  I struggle to eat the last of my sausage, especially with all three men watching me. What is it with men ogling women whenever they eat food shaped like cocks?

  I suppress a grin and swallow my food down. “And what exactly is telepathic persuasion?” I ask, slicing a strip of bacon in half. “Being able to read minds?”

  Ronan takes another drink from his glass. The blood stains his gorgeous lips. “In a sense, yes. We’re not sure how strong your powers are, but in time, you should be able to access anyone’s mind without needing to touch them. Their memories. Their fears. Their deepest, darkest secrets. It’s a wide-ranging ability.”

  “That’s not all,” Kaleo continues, gulping down the last of his waffle. “We think you may be able to manipulate them as well. That’s the persuasion part. Princess Tara was able to do this before she was killed.”

  “Turned into a vampire,” Ronan corrects him, his voice cold as his gaze switches between Kaleo and I. “We’re not sure if you have Tara’s exact power. But given how deep you fell into the kitsune’s emotions, it’s seems likely.”

  I stay silent for a moment and wolf down the rest of my breakfast. Once I finish, I wipe my lips with the napkin and look up at them. “Okay. So I can jump into minds. How am I supposed to control this? I don’t like the idea of requiring that much sleep every time I use it. Not when I have other… important things to be doing with my time,” I add with a suggestive wink.

  My Protectors glance between each other.

  Elliot smirks. “That’s where we come in handy, Your Majesty. We can be your little guinea pigs.”

  “Little?” Kaleo grumbles. “Speak for yourself, kiddo. There ain’t anything little about me.”

  “Indeed there is not,” Ronan grumbles, rolling his eyes. “You couldn’t be inconspicuous if your life depended on it.”

  “Hung like an elephant,” Kaleo mutters, cupping his bulge.

  Elliot’s suggestion isn’t a bad idea. If there’s anyone I can trust, and who trusts me in return, it’s my Protectors. I just hope I don’t hurt them in any way. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I ever injured my Protectors.

  “We can try it,” I say, picking up my protein shake. “Elliot, since you suggested it, you’ll go first.”

  I rise from my chair and head toward the door, eager to test my new power.

  I sit in front of the fire inside the grand drawing room, restless. The heat from the flames burn my cheeks and arms but I do not move. While the others were sent into the city for groceries, my queen told me to wait here for her return.

  My queen.

  I still can’t believe I pledged allegiance to her after all these years on my own. This isn’t how I imagined my life would turn out. I left Ohio to escape the shackles of that life. Yet every fiber in my being draws me to Queen Violet. I knew the instant she walked away from me at the park that I’d spend the rest of my life at her side.

  Something inside had compelled me to follow her that night and even use my body as her shield. I hadn’t been able to control the impulse. The coward within me should have run away and hid like I’d grown accustomed to doing, but the compulsion to save her was rooted so deep within my core that I acted without thinking. All I’d known was that my queen was in danger, and she needed me.

  The day I abandoned my pack, I vowed I’d never be ruled by another person. I didn’t need a pack then and certainly not an alpha; Elijah made sure of that. I left his bullshit and our abusive dad behind ten years ago, and I never once looked back. I had no home there, no purpose to my life, other than serving my brother and trying to escape my dad’s resentment.

  I come from a long line of alphas. My dad was disgusted that I wasn’t born an alpha who could lead the pack should anything ever happen to Elijah. I was just the load my mother should have swallowed, as he told me often.

  I clench my hands into fists, hating how every part of my childhood revolves around my drunk of a dad. There wasn’t a day that went by without him reminding me of how pathetic he found my existence and how I should just die, ridding him of his failure of a son. I’d spent my early teens trying to grant him that wish, but my childhood best friend, Jacob, now my brother’s beta, pulled me out time and time again. I soon determined it was better to not give my dad the satisfaction of my death.

  The door opens, and Violet steps inside the room. I offer her a smile, my heart wanting to explode upon seeing her. She walks over to the open fire, her eyes never leaving mine, and sits down beside me. She’s unbuttoned the top of her dress, and my mouth waters at the sight of her cleavage. I just want to bury my face between her breasts. I want to taste her blood and drive inside her again.

  My heart skips a beat when her fingers trail up my arm. She cups the back of my neck, and with her other hand, she eases my head back. Flames dance in her lilac eyes. Warm lips press against my mouth, my cheek, my temple, sending electric sparks searing through my veins. I part my lips and welcome her tongue with my own, my cock throbbing in my jeans. Fuck, she tastes so amazing.

  She pulls away, and her hot breath fans down my face. “I don’t know how this works. I’m a little nervous.”

  I pause for a moment, my eyes widening in surprise. Violet always seems in control of her emotions. Her flicker of hesitation is
painful to hear. I would do anything to make her feel comfortable again.

  I tuck a loose curl of blonde hair behind her ear. “Don’t be, Your Majesty. I’ll stay here for as long as it takes.”

  She gives me a lopsided grin and other surge of pleasure rushes to my cock.

  I’ll give anything to see my queen smile like that for the rest of her life.

  I feel as though I’m about to burst whenever I’m around her. It’s like seeing something so perfect, so flawless, your body doesn’t know how to react. That’s how I feel around my queen. Pleasantly overwhelmed.

  “Close your eyes,” she instructs me, her features bathed in candlelight.

  I do as she says, my palms turning sweaty with anticipation. I instinctively hold my breath. This time, she traces her fingers around my face, my lips, and then holds onto each side of my head. Not knowing what to expect, I keep perfectly still, trying to calm my racing heart. I’ve never had anyone read my mind before. What do I do? What do I think or say?

  Happy thoughts, Elliot. Think happy thoughts.

  Rainbows, unicorns, chasing cats, unlimited Starbucks coffee. Anything that won’t show Violet my pathetic, miserable childhood. That’s the last thing she needs to experience.

  A cold chill steadily creeps into my body. It’s like a gust of smoke invading my lungs and expelling into my body through my veins. I hold my breath again, my insides turning to ice, and I focus on the invasion. If I show any signs of resistance, Violet won’t be able to get into my head. I need to let her in, no matter how painful my memories can sometimes be.

  At first, her presence within me is no more than a static chill. Each breath I take claws at my lungs, and I’m unable to open my eyes.

  Then an enormous wave of heat spreads through my body. It’s like sunlight filtering between treetops on a warm summer’s day and bathing my skin. My insides begin to heat up, almost to an uncomfortable level, and I feel like I’ve stepped into a sauna.

  But the warmth slips from me like ice crashing into the sea. The sensation is soon replaced by a stabbing coldness again, then more warmth, followed by an onslaught of frost assaulting my bloodstream. It’s like Violet is opening door after door inside my mind, some of them warm and others like ice.

  Again, and again, she slams a door only to unlock another, each time her endeavors growing more impatient as she searches for something. I can’t see anything in my mind, everything’s black, but I feel her presence, cold and blistering, stumbling through my memories, my thoughts, my awareness. I feel her every step deep within my consciousness. Her presence leaves me breathless, cold, and stifling all at the same time.

  I grab onto her wrists for support. A piercing headache snaps around my skull like an elastic band, growing tighter the more Violet searches, but I need to do this. My queen needs my help to strengthen her power. It’s my duty as her Protector after all, to protect and serve, to love and worship. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my queen.

  Her presence grows even colder as she discovers an isolated door. My heart races as she unlocks and steps inside. The scene unfolds around me as clear as day. I can see, taste, feel everything as though I’m there again, trapped and at the mercy of monsters…

  I’m three years old, and my daddy has returned home. It’s early in the morning, and my daddy can’t stand up straight again. He kicks open the front door with his metal boots and finds me playing with my farmyard toy set on the living room floor.

  I glance up at his enormous shadow, my small body trembling. I puff my chest out like the big superheroes do. “Da-Daddy? Can I please go out now?”

  It’s been two weeks since I was allowed out to play with my friends. It was my birthday yesterday, and I thought Daddy would let me play in the yard, but he kept me locked in the attic again. I can’t remember the last time Daddy let me use the bathroom to wash or change my diaper. I want to get out and eat those cookies Jacob’s mom bakes me whenever I visit. I want to change my dirty diaper, but Daddy beats me with his belt whenever I do. I feel so hot and sick.

  Daddy kicks the door shut behind him and holds onto the frame for support. “Clean—clean this shit up, boy.”

  He kicks my toys across the room, spilling and knocking a vase over the carpet, and stumbles his way into the kitchen. I scurry over to the vase and pick the flowers up. I cut my finger on a rose as I try to make them all pretty again. I really like flowers. They remind me of Mom who went to stay with the angels in Heaven last Christmas. She used to call me her little petal.

  “I thought I—I thought I told you to clean this shhhhhhit up,” Daddy says, stumbling back into the living room. My body trembles at the sight of the leather belt in his hand. “You makin’ a fool outta me, boy?”

  “I did cleaned it up, Daddy.” I point at the flowers, my tiny bruised hand shaking. “I put them all back like you said.”

  Daddy lifts his arm and smacks the belt across my legs. I fall back, landing on my toys, and I let out a scream. I always try to not make any noises, because they make Daddy angry, but tears fall from my eyes again.

  Daddy’s belt hurts and makes my skin bleed and sting for days.

  “Little… fucker…” Daddy strikes me again, this time on my other leg and across my naked chest. “Why the fuck were y-you born, eh? Bringin’ nothin’ but shame on this family! Just fuckin’ die already!”

  I cower from Daddy as best as I can. I roll into a tight ball, wrap my arms around my head, and press myself into the carpet. But I’m only wearing a heavy diaper, and Daddy’s belt keeps catching my thin body. It hurts, and I want Daddy to stop.

  But Daddy never stops.

  He wraps the belt around my neck and pulls me up. I kick and scream as loud as I can. I can’t keep the noises in because this hurts, and I just want to get away. But Daddy is bigger and stronger than me, and my words don’t seem to come out right. He drags me across the room and down toward the basement.

  “N-no, Daddy, please not again! No, Daddy, no!”

  “Get out of my head, Your Majesty, get out!”

  With a rapid electric shock and gasp of air, I’m hauled out from the nightmare. My body sways backward and onto the floor, and I press my face into the soft rug. I lay there gasping for a moment, trying to catch my breath, until I remember what just happened. I scramble over to Violet. She’s lying on her back too, gazing up at the ceiling, and her eyes have turned completely white.

  “Your Majesty?” I whisper, careful as I ease her head onto my lap. “Oh God, oh God, oh God, I’ve killed her… I’ve killed her!”

  My heart nearly jumping out from my chest, I lean down and press my ear to her mouth. A wave of relief surges through me. Her breathing is faint but she’s not dead. When I find the dark abrasions hacked into her neck, my stomach coils.

  They’re the exact markings I had once my dad removed his belt and left me in the basement for several days.

  “Sorcha! I need your help,” I cry over my shoulder. “Anyone… Please!”

  I touch her discolored skin softly, my fingers trembling, and I hold her to my heaving chest. I know she isn’t dead. She’s still breathing. But seeing her in pain makes me wish that I was dead. I’d rather die than see my queen suffer like this.

  She’s too precious to me.

  I go to lay her on the floor and look for help, when I notice the bruises around her neck beginning to fade. She takes a deep, long breath, the color gradually returning to her eyes.

  “Your… Your Majesty?” My voice comes out a harsh croak.

  Violet lifts the corner of her lips into a smile. “I’m here for you, Elliot.” She cups the side of my face, her touch warm and gentle. “You won’t ever have to live in fear like that again. Never, ever again. I’ve got you now.”

  My eyes turn glassy as tears drop from my lids and onto her cheek. Unable to speak, I simply nod as gratitude pours through my veins. I’ve never had anyone like this in my life before. I’m supposed to be the one to protect Violet, but in reality, she’s the on
e protecting me by reminding me of my worth. I’m not a meaningless omega who means jackshit to rest of the world. Violet needs and wants me, and the most shocking thing of all is that I need her.

  “I thought… I thought that…” I can’t even finish my sentence. I feel like such an idiot for crying in front of her. But for a moment, as I cradled her in my arms, I thought I’d lost her.

  Violet straightens into a sitting position. “I was just processing everything. I didn’t die.”

  “Processing?” I repeat the word in question. “What do you mean? I was fucking terrified for you.”

  She thinks for a moment, her hand absently rubbing her neck. The bruises have disappeared now. “It was like a whirlpool of energy. So many emotions with memories attached to them. Each time I touched one of them, I was pulled into a different dreamland.” She smiles faintly. “It was like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from.” Her smile fades, and she looks away from me. I notice her hands clench into fists. “I didn’t mean to touch the storm clouds. I actually tried to avoid them this time, but they were so hypnotizing, and I could hear a howl in the distance.” Turning around, her eyes burning into my own, she tells me, “It was you calling out to me. My Protector, drowning in a sea of darkness, howling for his queen. Isn’t that a beautifully tragic thought, Elliot?”

  Unable to think of anything to say, I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and nod again. I knew the risk of Violet learning of my childhood was high. I just never imagined she’d feel everything I did, including my dad’s beatings. I want to help her as much as I can, but I don’t want her to feel what my dad put me through.

  “I’m here for you,” Violet repeats in earnest, dragging me from my train of thought. “I’ll always be here for you, as your queen, as your lover, and as your friend.”

  She extends her arms to me. I lower myself into her warm embrace and press my head on her lap. Her touch is warm and comforting. When she threads her fingers through my hair and pets me, I let out a quiet growl, the wolf inside me content. It’s the happiest I’ve felt in my entire life.