Blood Prince [Wolf Creek Pack 4]

Wolf Creek Pack 4

STORMY GLENN

Copyright © 2009

Chapter 1

“Your highness, there’s a gentleman at the gate asking to see you. He’s come under a flag of truce.”

Prince Zacarius
Ivinovav looked up from the book he read to see his manservant, Alfred, standing in the doorway of his study. The man looked nervous, which seemed strange for Alfred. He always looked totally controlled and unaffected by everything.

“Who is it, Alfred?” he asked, shutting his book and setting it down on the small table next to his chair. Zacarius’s eyes widened when Alfred actually shuddered.

“He said his name is Devlin Morgan, sir.”

“Fierce bravery, I’m intrigued,” Zacarius murmured.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Oh, nothing, Alfred,” Zacarius said as he stood to his feet and waved his hand at Alfred. “I was just commenting on his name. Devlin means fierce bravery in Gaelic. Well, let him in, Alfred.”

“Your highness,” Alfred said and shuddered again. “He’s a shifter.”

“You don’t say?” Zacarius asked in surprise. “Well, by all means, show him in. And Alfred, make sure everyone knows he’s here as my guest. No aggression. Is that understood?”

“But sir, he’s a shifter.”

“I’m fully aware of that, Alfred,” Zacarius replied. “But he has come to our gate under a flag of truce, and we must honor that. No one is to make any moves toward him or they will secure my wrath. Is that clearly understood?”

“Yes, of course, your highness,” Alfred replied. “I’ll show him in right away.”

Zacarius nodded. He chuckled to himself as Alfred hurried from the room. The man was a mystery, two hundred years old if he was a day and never a hair out of place. His butler suits always looked pressed and wrinkle-free. And he never ever seemed ruffled by anything.

Having a shifter show up at the front gate, flag of truce or not, seemed to have done just that. Zacarius couldn’t blame Alfred. The long standing animosity between vampires and werewolves went back several centuries.

Zacarius, being just over five hundred years old, could remember the war between the two species from his childhood. By the time he grew into his adulthood, werewolves and vampires were already at each other’s throats.

It would be interesting to discover why a shifter darkened his doorstep now. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually saw a one in person, maybe fifty or sixty years ago.

Zacarius sat in one of the two wing back chairs situated in front of the roaring fire. He slowly sipped hundred year old scotch from a crystal glass and waited for the shifter to be shown to his study. Yes, this would very interesting indeed.

“Come,” Zacarius said a few minutes later when a soft knock sounded at his door. He turned to see Alfred open the door and a rather impressive figure walked in. Zacarius found himself immediately intrigued by the man’s roguish good looks. He didn’t remember shifters looking quite so handsome.

“Devlin Morgan, your highness,” Alfred said.

Zacarius rose to his feet and walked a few steps closer to the shifter. “Thank you, Alfred. That will be all.”

“Very well, sir,” Alfred replied. Zacarius could see that he wanted to protest, but Alfred would never dream of being anything except efficient and obedient, one of the reasons Zacarius retained the man’s services for the past fifty years. “Just ring me if you require anything, your highness.”

Zacarius waited for the door to close then gave into his desire to fully view the man that stood before him. He noted that while he had a self-assured quality about him, small beads of sweat trickled down his temple.

He must be nervous. Zacarius leaned forward just a bit and sniffed the air around him. A tingling in the pit of his stomach came over him as deep, earthy masculine musk assailed his senses. Devlin Morgan smelled glorious.

He didn’t miss the Devlin’s obvious examination and approval either. A slight seductive grin crossed the man’s lips as his sexy copper eyes slid downward. Zacarius knew the moment his gaze landed on the hardness pressed against his own tight black leather pants.

His eyes widened as the thick scent of arousal permeated the room. His eyes moved to Zacarius’s face, his gaze bore into his in silent expectation. Zacarius smirked as he moved over to his liquor cabinet.

“Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Morgan?”

“Devlin, please,” he replied. “And I’ll take a scotch if you have it.”

“Of course,” Zacarius said. “Neat?”

“Of course.” Devlin chuckled.

Zacarius poured him a drink then topped his own drink off. He handed Devlin his glass then sat down in the chair he occupied before. He gestured for Devlin to join him.

“So, what brings you to my gate, Devlin Morgan?”

“You do understand that I am here under a flag of truce?” Devlin asked. “I want no trouble, but my alpha ordered me here.”

“And why would your alpha want you to come visit me?” Zacarius asked. “I doubt I even know the man.”

True enough. Zacarius was positive he didn’t know him. He was, however, very interested in getting to know the man that sat across from him. Devlin Morgan might be a shifter, but a damn good-looking one.

“It concerns your sister, Princess Adrianna.”

Well shit!
Zacarius frowned. If Adrianna was involved, it couldn’t be good. The girl started making trouble the moment she left the cradle. Zacarius couldn’t even begin to count the messes he dragged her out of.

“And what kind of trouble has my dear sister gotten herself into this time?”

Devlin looked hesitant. Zacarius detected a change in his scent as if his level of apprehension suddenly increased. Devlin twisted his hands together, dropping his gaze to look down at the fire.

Zacarius was surprised enough by the look of regret on Devlin’s face when he glanced back up that he couldn’t hide his reaction when he continued.

“I’m afraid your sister has been killed.”

“What?” he yelled, jumping to his feet. “What do you mean my sister’s been killed? Who killed her?” He stepped forward and started to reach for him, only stopping when Devlin shrank back in his seat.

Zacarius swung around and stormed over to stare down at the roaring fire. He leaned his arm against the white marble mantel and took several deep breaths to calm his anger. It wouldn’t do for a shifter to see him lose control.

“How did my sister die, and who did it?” he asked after a few moments.

“You need to understand, no one set out to kill her, but she threatened not only my alpha and his mate, but our entire pack. Several members of our pack had already been killed. When she attacked my alpha, he had no choice but to defend himself.”

“Your pack?” Zacarius asked, confusion flooding him. He swung around to stare at Devlin. “What do you mean several members were killed? What business did she even have with a wolf pack?”

“It might help if you could say that with a little less distain, your highness.”

Zacarius lifted an eyebrow. It would seem Devlin Morgan lived up to his name. He needed to be filled with fierce bravery if he had the courage to admonish the prince of a vampire coven. He impressed Zacarius.

“My apologies, Devlin,” Zacarius said. “Please continue.”

“From what we’ve been able to piece together, your sister made an agreement with several members of our pack to exchange werewolves for territory and money.”

“For the purpose of?”

“Werewolf blood.”

Zacarius nodded. Everyone knew that werewolf blood was an aphrodisiac for vampires. Human blood could sustain them, but drinking werewolf blood was like partaking in a fine wine. It could sustain them for days longer than human blood.

“Please, go on,” Zacarius said. “If my sister was involved, I know there has to be more.”

“They planned to start a breeding program. They would breed and cull werewolves for their blood. Adrianna needed to mate with the alpha of our pack and create a half werewolf half vampire child then kill the alpha so she could rule the pack.”

Zacarius could barely contain his shock behind a façade of neutrality. It looked like his sister finally took a bite out of something that bit back. “And?”

“Our alpha is already mated, so your sister decided the alpha mate needed to die.”

Zacarius took a deep gulp of his scotch. He grimaced. This was old scotch meant to be savored. It wasn’t for gulping. He needed cheap scotch at the moment, something that would numb his nerves.

“So, my sister met her end at the hands of your alpha?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” Devlin replied. His fingers nervously plucked at the material of his faded jeans. “She did attack my alpha, but she also attacked the alpha mate. Either Reece killed her while shifted or Keeley did when she attacked him with a knife. We’re not quite sure.”

“Keeley?” Zacarius asked in surprise. “Your alpha’s mated to a male?”

Zacarius wasn’t sure he ever heard of that. Wolf packs seemed to be all about the pack and having cubs to increase that pack. He’d never heard of an alpha mated to a male before. He wondered if Devlin was of the same inclination.

“Is that a problem?”

“No.” Zacarius chuckled as he settled in his chair once again before looking back at Devlin. “Just a surprise. It’s a little unusual to find an alpha mated to a male.”

“We don’t choose our mates, your highness. Fate does.”

“Please,” Zacarius said, waving his hand, “call me Zacarius.”

Devlin nodded.

“So, why come all this way to tell me about my sister?” Zacarius asked. “I doubt I would ever have known if you hadn’t said anything. Adrianna has disappeared for years on end several times. This wouldn’t have been a surprise to us if she went missing.”

“My alpha wanted you to know that he doesn’t hold your coven responsible for her actions. He doesn’t want any animosity between our two people and asked me to bring your sister’s body back as a sign of good faith.”

Zacarius watched Devlin silently as he thought over the man’s words. Alphas of werewolf packs usually initiated hostilities between their two people. From what he knew, werewolves were dirty creatures that became aggressive at the drop of a hat.

Devlin’s words contradicted that long-held belief. So did the very striking sight of the messenger of those words. Devlin was probably one of the sexiest men Zacarius ever laid eyes on. And Zacarius wanted him.

“Very well, Devlin. I accept your alpha’s show of good faith. Neither I nor my coven will hold Adrianna’s death against you or yours. However, I do have one stipulation.”

Devlin’s eyes widened. Zacarius’s lips twisted into a small grin before he quickly masked his features. Oh, the things he could do to the controlled man before him, the things he could teach him.

“As you might not be aware, the death ritual for my people takes a week, seven days from beginning to end. It’s especially important when one of the ruling family members dies. As a sign that your alpha truly does not wish to engage in any hostilities between our people, you will stay here for that week as my guest.”

Zacarius muffled his smile as Devlin choked on the scotch he sipped. His gaze went from shock, to excitement and then desperation. Zacarius felt pleased. Devlin could prove to be a very enjoyable play toy.

* * * *

“You heard me, Reece,” Devlin growled into the phone. “He says I have to stay here as his guest during the death ritual or he’ll consider this an aggressive move on the part of our werewolf pack.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Great, so I can come home?”

“No, you should probably stay there if that’s what the prince wants,” Reece replied. “Wolf Creek Pack has taken us in. It wouldn’t be right to bring the wrath of a vampire prince down on their heads.”

“Well, fuck, Reece,” Devlin griped. “Just serve me up to the bloodsuckers, why don’t you?”

“Do you think you’re in danger?”

“No,” Devlin grumbled.

Not the way you think
, Devlin thought to himself. He knew he wasn’t in any danger from the vampire coven. Prince Zacarius decreed him off limits. From the prince himself, however, Devlin was in a shitload of danger.

Prince Zacarius stole Devlin’s breath away the second he stepped into the room. He’d been shocked at first at the prince’s pale appearance, and then the man glided across the room in his tight black leather pants and white ruffled shirt. Devlin could barely contain himself from drooling all over him.

The prince stood a few inches shorter than Devlin, but he commanded the room for the very beginning. His pale features and long, black hair framing his face only enhanced the deep amethyst of his eyes. Devlin never saw eyes that color before.

He felt mesmerized every time he looked into them, unable to look away. Devlin heard rumors that vampires could hypnotize people with a look and wondered if his fascination with the prince stemmed from that.

He heard a lot of other rumors about vampires, a few which the prince dispelled within an hour of meeting him. It made Devlin wonder if all of the rumors he heard were based on fact or centuries of animosity.

Vampires didn’t seem to be the blood thirsty creatures of his childhood nightmares. They also didn’t sit around with victims bleeding at their feet or piles of bodies everywhere. In fact, the prince seemed rather pleasant, even if he did set Devlin’s hackles on edge.

“How upset is he over his sister’s death?”

Devlin shrugged even though Reece couldn’t see it. “Not very, actually. I got the impression she’s been in trouble before. He didn’t seem that surprised.”

“And he’ll let things go if you stick around for this ritual thing?”

“Yeah, apparently it’s like this week long thing. I don’t get it, but whatever. The prince is having someone remove her body from my truck as we speak. I guess they set the body up in some sort of viewing room or something.”