Taste of Fate: The Vampire King's Human Mate

Him

The echo of his words vibrated in the depths of my mind, an unwelcome intrusion that stirred the continuous embers of my rage. Another royal fool dared to disturb my solitude with the audacity of his proposal.

Marry his daughter? Did he take me for a desperate pup, seeking alliances to solidify my reign?

I needed none of that.

I was the King of Qemond. The strongest Vampire Kingdom in the world.

King Holmes was a fly that did nothing but annoy me. That he thought I could be tempted by his daughter was an offense.

Andras, my right hand and the only man I trusted, caught up to me, my steps fast and hard against the cobblestone. “What did the messenger say?”

“Holmes wants me to marry his daughter,” I scoffed, irritated that such a request was just made of me.

“Marriage?”

“A pitiful attempt to grow his kingdom, no doubt. He treats me as if I were some subordinate yearning for scraps of power,” I grunted.

Andras raised his eyebrow, tilting his body to look at me more directly. “It would be to our advantage-”

I growled, interrupting him.“I’m not marrying her.”

He rubbed his neck with a smirk. “Alright, I won’t mention it again.”

“I won’t be a pawn in vampire politics.”

Andras frowned, placing his hands behind his back. “You are vampire politics.”

I ignored that, true as it was. Qemond was the stronghold, the heart of trade and war, and home to the only vampire army fast enough to kill before dying.

And I was king of it all.

My fangs ached to sink into someone’s neck. My head throbbed, and my eyes sank deeper into a dull, punishing despair. We said nothing else as we made our way toward the only bar I tolerated in the village.

It sat on the outskirts of Qemond, just behind our wall. It was far enough to draw travelers, close enough to remain under my watch. The moment we stepped inside, the scent of blood curled into my nose and dragged my fangs down.

“Your Majesty.” A waitress bowed slightly, stepping aside to clear a path toward the dark, private corner I always claimed.

“Bring me two samplings,” I ordered, not bothering to look at her. “Unmixed. Human. Female.”

She bowed again and disappeared.

Andras dropped into the chair across from me with a sigh. “Testing before the bite? That desperate to avoid disappointment?”

I glared at him. 

“When was the last time you drank?”

“This morning. But all these fucking meetings today have been draining. And the Council still wants to meet tomorrow.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “You think they know that Holmes has offered you his daughter?”

I clench my jaw. “I’m sure. He would bow to them like a pentulant child and ask for their help.”

The waitress returned with two cups and softly placed them in front of us. “Here you are. Let me know if you need anything else, Your Majesty.”

She walked away with a quick bow, probably eager to get away from us.

Power begets fear, and I was the most powerful in the realm. They saw me as a force to be reckoned with, a figure who cast a shadow even in the darkest corners of their dreams. In their eyes, I was a threat, even if I was their king.

I took a sip.

Heat slammed into my gut. The taste hit like sex and slaughter. It was thick, intoxicating, alive. My lips parted on a silent growl as the blood coated my tongue, slow and rich, like honey dragged over a blade.

My cock stirred.

The room sharpened. I saw everything, every breath, every heartbeat, every twitch of a muscle. I could smell the moon through the wood. Taste it.

Another swallow and my hands clenched into fists on the table, the ache in my fangs now unbearable.

What the fuck was this?

Andras’ eyebrows furrowed deeply while his eyes scanned the length of my face. “Sebastian?”

I took another sip, claws digging into the edge of the table as fire spread through my veins. 

Andras kept his eyes trained on mine, putting his cup down to frown in my direction. “Did you get a bad batch of blood?”

I shook my head. 

“You look fucking deranged.”

I stared down at the dark liquid, swallowing the last bit. The taste was different, and yet, I could not pinpoint its significance. The last sip felt cool against my tongue, against my throat. It tasted alive; it made me feel alive.

My fangs ached, my head pounding as if a war drum beat inside my skull. I wasn’t here to play games. I stood and stormed past the timid waitress without a word, ignoring the whispers and wide eyes. 

No damn cup could satisfy this hunger.

The scent dragged me deeper into the bar’s shadows, straight to the locked doors at the back. I shoved them open without a care, the chain clinking to the ground as it broke. 

Behind them, was a pitiful cage of chained humans. Frail bodies, pale and trembling, stripped of dignity and hope.

I inhaled sharply. Among the scent of fear and blood, one called to me. I stepped forward, muscles coiled. The others were mere cattle. She was something else. 

Without hesitation, I walked through, ignoring the bodies as they screamed and found reprieve against the wall. 

Footsteps thundered behind me. The owner burst through the doorway, panic writ clear across his face. “Your Majesty, please! You can’t—”

Before he could finish, I slammed my palm against his throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. His eyes widened in terror, throat compressed beneath my grip.

“I will take what is mine,” I growled, voice low and lethal. 

He gasped for breath, hands clawing at my wrist, but I held firm, squeezing just enough to remind him who wielded the true power here.

When I released him, he stumbled back, swallowing hard, eyes darting to the trembling women who still waited in the shadows.

I turned back, my eyes locking to little human bunched into a wall in the corner of the cage. I gripped the cold iron bars with both hands, muscles coiling beneath my skin.

The cage was built for mortals, small, fragile creatures, but I was no mere man. I tore the bars apart, metal groaning and twisting like paper.

The heavy clang echoed through the room, drowning out the terrified cries behind me. I stepped inside, crouching over, the cramped space barely containing my towering frame.

My eyes locked onto her immediately.

She pressed herself into the far wall, her hands chained beside her head, the iron biting into her pale skin. Her frail muscles and skeletal frame barely held her upright.

A thin white dress clung to her calves, dirt smeared across her bare feet. Her wide hazel eyes were fixed on me, fear and disbelief shining in their depths.

My gaze burned with an unbearable need to strip that dress from her, to reveal the skin beneath. She was a delicate masterpiece, a canvas I was drawn to with a madness that tightened my chest.

I shut my eyes tightly, feeling them shift beneath the weight of the raw arousal coursing through me. A low growl escaped my lips as I rubbed my eyelids roughly, struggling to contain the storm within.

I was a king, an unyielding force, and yet here, in her presence, I felt a shattering fragility that defied everything I knew of myself.

Her eyes never left mine. The chains rattled as she shifted, breath coming fast, chest heaving.