Blood And Fruit

By RJ Dale

The final book of the Passion Series.
Blood and Fruit tells the tale through six different points of view leading up to the blood moon rise and all that follows.
Hunter has grown up fast, and so to has his twin sister, Lilly. Nine months ago, they were babies, now they are eighteen, and still ageing.
Life is boring for Hunter, simple and maybe dangerous in the academy. Until Trey comes into his life. Linking his soul and becoming the first dhampir bonded to a lycan in history.
For Trey it is an inconvenience, for the rest of the lycan packs, it is dishonoring; for the morio, it is amusing. For Hunter, it’s just plain weird.
Lilly is distracted with desire for the first time in her simple life. Before Castiel, there was nothing but study, books, and science. But his kiss changes everything.
Ella has no memory of her past since waking nine months ago. Symbols and visions of a man named Lucifer drive her to hunt the lycan and the vampires. Getting caught wasn’t the plan; being placed in a training facility with other lycans wasn’t something she thought she’d be doing either, planning her escape is delayed when she meets a dhampir, the chosen one, who is said to rise Lucifer from his fiery prison.
Lucifer has burned in an eternal flame for a thousand thousand years, and the blood moon has come, will he rise and stand before mankind and bring forth their demise, or is there more to the tale of the first vampire?

For mature readers only. Adult themes present.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RJ Dale
• Release date: Feb 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311574879

RJ Dale

RJ Dale lives in Queensland Australia. With a deep interest in supernatural, magical and all things unexplained.

Book preview

Prologue

Lucifer

Time

Pain was there.

Pain was always there.

Fire, hot pain that had no end. No beginning, no start, no finish, no wood, fuel, link, pit or rock.

It was just … there.

A dome of flame. Bright as the light was—fury and pain felt as it could be, but there was no light in here. Nothing but darkness as the flame burned on, endlessly. No section went unnoticed. No part went untouched, and no area was left flame free.

Alone, I am.

In the dark I remain. And the pain was all I had. To endure and suffer with. The wait became constant, and time was all I knew. I could not see, feel, hear, be or know.

It was dark.

It was always dark. Nothing ever told me it was different to being dark, and the dark was how it always was. For an age, I imagined I was nothing. A thought that lingered on … ideas. But ideas had no solid shape, no length of hope or structure. I was just here, in the dark … waiting.

Time and darkness were all I had. And in that, emptiness.

Flame was all that touched me.

Until that night, she was there.

Chapter 1

Lilly

No one saw it

The red bat-man wasn’t watching the fire.

He was fighting the lady gargoyle, Gabriella. He called her Gabby, Gabby, Gabby, but her name was Gabriella and she was purple. She was winning, fighting him, falling with grace to turn and block his sword that looked sharp and pointy; and that was when he was knocked to the ground and she was above him, wanting to stab him, but didn’t … or couldn’t. Mummy had been stabbed by the blade and it hurt her, but I couldn’t see the cuts on him.

Surrender, Vladimir. She was so strong of voice, brave too. You are beneath me.

No. You’re beneath me. And he swiped his hand out fast, he held her over the edge where she was screaming and calling out to us, to anyone. Her scream was more beast than person, and more pain than any person could have.

She was suffering and he wasn’t even worried.

But the fireball was.

It knocked her up and out, pushing them into the wall. And then she fell to the ground, and he was above her again, and he pulled her wings away, and lots of light spilled forth.

I remembered that was the moment that no one was seeing the fire, because the fire went out and the light went out.

It was a shadow of darkness in that second and that was the second I saw him.

A simple glance, a moment of—did I see right? It was always the way. When you’re not sure if you did see something and when you look again, it’s not there any way, so you don’t try an look for it.

But it was in that second that I did see.

Eyes that were so colourful and bright, so strong and pure; and a face that was much more different to any face I had seen. Not vampire, not gargoyle, not elf, not human … what was he? It didn’t matter because he was gone a second later, and daddy was picking me up, holding me close and I was seeing Gabriella shivering on her side; a human with nasty scars on her back. Hunter was worried about her, I was trying to see where the other one had gone, where he might have been, and if he had been there at all.

The only thing I did notice was that fireball that moved on it’s own, wasn’t there anymore, and stone gargoyles all looking towards the pit of no flame, were shapes of nothing as we shimmered. Suddenly we were home, and I was being passed to Aunt Erika. Daddy swam into the lake. I turned to see, Aunt Kera, Uncle Ethan, uncle Caleb and aunt Judith with Hunter in Uncle Marcus arms as Aunt Erika kissed my cheek.

You’re safe now, Lilly, she sang to me, and that was when I caught a glimpse of a shimmery place where the fire pit was meant to be. That moment I thought I saw something, and when I looked again, it was gone. And for that moment, I was sure, he had blue eyes.

Chapter 2

HUNTER

When I was young

I was being squeezed, really hard. My breath was running out, almost gone.

Mum!

Sorry. She wasn’t. I’m going to miss you so much. My big boy. Going to school so soon.

I’ll be okay. Lilly will be there.

Yeah, said Lilly. I’ll be there.

And you two. Mum released me, to hold Lilly with just as much force. I’m going to miss you Lilly. My sweet little girl. Oh, why did you have to grow so fast?

It’s okay, mum, we’ll be home by the end of the year anyway.

That’s too long. Stacy might as well have been smiling. Lilly had a way of seeing the future and even I was impressed. The end of the year? That was seven months away.

I hope Sword and Cross are nice to you both.

They will be, said dad, stepping closer. Thankfully, not about to cuddle me to death. A hand shake and a tousle of my hair to tap Lilly’s chin. Tristan was more distant than all the others. Stand off, maybe even guarded with hard expressions, limited words and while caring, he just didn’t show affection or maybe even open love that mum and the rest were doing constantly.

Sure, we grew fast, and we barely got through one stage to be at another. There wasn’t much time to enjoy life, or the simple things when your parents were vampires and we were hidden from the town. But he loved us, in his own way. You two set?

Course. I picked up my pack to have Marcus snatch it from my grip. Hey! I can carry it.

And I can too. He flashed a wide smile with a wink. Helping out in that, I’m-Going-to-Miss-You-But-Not-Going-To-Say-It. And sure. Maybe they would miss us.

Three and a half months ago, I was a baby, now I was a thirteen year old, as was Lilly, my twin sister. I gave her a side smile, she returned it with a light punch to my shoulder.

I call shotgun. And she dashed to the front seat. I didn’t give chase, as much as I wanted to. Deep down I wasn’t as excited about going to this school as I should be. Lilly on the other hand, couldn’t wait. She was already holding up the stack of papers she’d read a dozen times on all the classes she’d be doing. Sure, smart was her, me? I can read, didn’t mean I wanted to.

Oh, if I was able to cry, Mum pulled me into another tight hug that had Tristan rolling his eyes. I smiled at him. Mum was still new at being a vampire, her emotions were on the touchy side and ten times more present than in the others.

I think I need a hug too, Erika interrupted, saving me, to have her suddenly smother me in hugs and a dozen cheek kisses. She brushed my black locks away. It was more annoying mum wouldn’t let me cut my hair, it was far too long, and secretly I wanted to chop it all off the moment I enter this school.

My turn, Judith pulled me from Erika’s grip and into hers, watching as Erika bounced down the stairs to pull Lilly from the car and do that rocking-hug girls were able to do.

There was no shortage of hugs, no shortage of kisses and maybe because they were all vampires, no tears. They would all miss us. Ethan, Caleb and Kera were the last to say farewells to us.

We would be going to the academy of Sword and Cross, a supernatural school for children like me. Sure, I wasn’t a vampire, or a human. Lilly and I were dhampirs, who happened to age twice as fast … okay, ten times faster than any other child born of supernatural parents. We were self taught and in the last three and a half months of our lives, we had the genius ability of a standard college student with a high score, and we were only thirteen. Few months from now, she’ll be in a lab somewhere and me—well, I wasn’t one for books or study. I understand it, just don’t like it.

Write to me every day. You too, Lilly, Stacy was giving orders for the tenth time. She waved and blew kisses through the window as Caleb started the engine. I was pleased he was the one driving us to the city. This type of farewell on the doorsteps of my new school would cause way too much problem. Don’t let anyone boss you around, that includes the teachers; and don’t backchat them. Make sure you brush your teeth. Don’t eat too much of the same thing. Have some fruit once in awhile, Hunter. And be good. Be safe. Please.

Don’t worry, mum. I got this.

Boy, was she wrong.

No, wait.

Boy—I was wrong.

Chapter 3

HUNTER

Not expecting that

Six months later …

The fist came hard, painfully rough into my side; then my stomach and a knee was added to my face as the arm slammed into my back, repeatedly. I was almost down, almost out. Grunting, groaning, spitting blood and finding my wasted breath, I sucked in air. Waited a beat more as the attacker shifted his footing. The shift was all I needed, and I put all my force into wrapping my arms up and around. Grabbing handfuls of muscle, clothes and skin, as I hoisted him upwards, above my head for seconds at most, to slam him into the floor. Oh. Yeah. I was strong for that moment—dropping him hard and painful to hear the crack of the concrete, he yelled out, and I was wasted of strength. Almost collapsing, but I remained upright.

That was worth it.

Course, it would have scored high points if it were a wrestling match, it might have even scored high points if it were a football tackle gone wrong, but this was mean fighting to a tee.

The momentum of the impact should have left him down and out, but he wasn’t human.

He kicked up, knocking me hard in the jaw to somersault and lunge with teeth bared. The blue of his iris turned electric. The pupils started to shrink; with the snap of his jaw an inch from my face, the ripple was on the edge of him half changing, to staying human. Feral and sickly is what it appeared. He power pushed me into the concrete wall, forcing his weight into me as his forearm pressed to my wind pipe. My breath was gone—not for the first time in this fight.

Blotches appeared before my eyes, darkness was closing in, and still, I held my ground; grunting with as much defiance as I could. I pushed back; both of us were equal of strength, sort of—the same height at least. Same age—I think. He had more defined muscle mass, twice the arm build than I’ll ever get, and sure—if it wasn’t for his hideous transformation—scratch that. I would always be better looking than him.

She is mine, his warning growl was the same as before.

Clearly you don’t know how to keep her, I taunted.

I was playing with fire and maybe I should keep my mouth shut. I might be matching him, punch for punch; and we’d been at it a good fifteen minutes now. Maybe it was weighing on us. Me more so. My human side always sucks the most. I had high endurance, I had stamina, I had guts. What I lacked was the training, the skill. I thought I was doing pretty good in this battle. Not the first and probably not the last.

You’re nothing but shitless crap.

Fleabag. That always makes em fight more.

I am going to tear you up, pretty boy.

Sure bout that? I clocked him hard in the jaw, might sprain something eventually.

Trey was like concrete himself. His head barely jolted, and in the next swing; he had me flipped to my back. A foot was aimed, ready to make me see stars. Seconds from colliding with my face, I spun and kicked high into his knee cap. He dropped to his side, allowing me a gap to leap and hold him in a neck grip.

Let’s see if I can make you look prettier. I was all for clawing him, (if I had claws.) Keeping a neck hold on him was harder than I wanted to admit. Maybe I could twist his neck, that wasn’t possible. He was like a pole at this angle. No way to budge, and because he was in part change, his neck wasn’t something I could get a hold of.

I'll make you twice the gutter rat you are, he grunted and growled, rising up with lycan strength. Twisting his arms around and clinging onto me, digging his meaty clawed hands into my skull and hair to toss me aside with force.

Oh, crap.

Now he was pissed.

I’m ripping you in half, dhampir. He ripped at the shredded remains of his shirt, flexing and rippling his muscles with cracks of his neck. His body tripling in muscle tone, and the change was taking shape before my eyes.

I had to admit, it was amazing every time I watched one of these bad boys turn.

Lycans.

Untameable unless bonded with a vampire.

These were pups, newly bonded as it turns out. And well, changing without the need for a full moon was their gift for signing over their loyalty. Not this one though, he had yet to be bonded, but it was the coming of a full moon, which gave him extra power and strength.

His squared dog face exposed the longer muzzle, which held a crinkle and snarl of his anger as his sharp teeth snapped and sure, drool too. His nose was wider, not the wet nose kind either. Those ice blue eyes burned into me as his seven foot form towered toward me. Those ripped abs and muscle were a glisten of sweat, changing to a hue of blue skin, no fur.

You can try. I dashed to the side and out of his reach. Speed was all I had at this point, now he was in form. Before, I had a chance. Now. I wasn’t about to win this and I knew it.

I scanned my exits.

Windows, windows, a door. Hmmm… too far. The windows were barred and they were a good thirty feet up.

The meaty claw ripped into my shirt, pulling at me, and managing a grip on my arm.

Oh, shit.

I didn’t stand a chance.

A beating I knew would be painful, and sure, I had one of those before and not just from him. His grip tightened. My arm was dead, not even a colour was in it, and the mutt laughed as it pulled my arm back, up and—

Snap!

Yeah. A broken arm was just not what I needed. But he wasn’t done there. He pulled my other arm up, as I tried to get free. Ah, what the hell. Break both of them.

Yep. That’s what he did.

My arms were killing, burning beyond pain as he dropped me in a heap. His breath was heavy, his drool dripping on my hand. He kicked me, and a lycan foot is twice the size of a horses hoof with possibly a fifteen horse pound pressure. My ribs were broken, my hip cracked and the beating just went on and on. Course, he had to clutch my inch length hair, hauling me upwards. I was a rag; not even a doll.

He growled low, widening his mouth to press his long k9’s to my throat.

One bite of those babies, and I’d be gone. If it is a true bite of death. Please don’t turn me into a damn werewolf.

There was a roar, a howl. My attacker pulled away. A whimper escaped his throat. A pup through and through.

Papa wolfs calling. I couldn’t resist through puffy lips and swollen eyes.

He snarled, possibly trying to insult me ... along the lines of—This ain’t over half breed. But I didn’t speak wolf, and wasn’t about to.

Another kick and another howl, one of urgency. This mutt was nothing to me, none of them were. I was dropped in a heap as my attacker bounded towards the door with an answering howl of his own, only to have a sharp yelp hold him in place. I didn’t need to know wolf to understand what was happening. My attacker was now on his haunches, whimpering like the pup he was. Sure, twenty-four, but no. He was in submissive mode, his code, his instinct, his obedience. Whichever and all of it. He was listening to his Pack Masters words, which were spoken in thought. The Pack Master wasn’t someone you disobeyed or ignored.

Bluish as all the lycan colours are, this one had an age about him. Grey tinting to his head, shoulders and forearms; silverbacks as they like to nick name Pack Masters.

Coughing blood, I remained where I was, since moving wasn’t an option. Suffering in endless throbbing pain, and sure, hurt like UV lights on vampire skin, or silver on a lycan; or maybe like a beaten body should. My eye was swollen, my lip too, my jaw felt dislocated and maybe it was, along with the rest of my limbs. I watched through swelling eyes as the Pack Master stood strong, towering above my attacker, and even if the pup was equal in height and muscle, there was no escaping a Pack Masters lore, or voice; even if they’re bonded with a vampire. All lycan’s are ruled by another of their kind. The Pack Master put his muzzle on my attackers shoulder, a bite that was deep to the point blood spilled. Unlike before, my attacker took this bite, cowering and responding with high whimpers. If he had a tail, he’d have it between his legs. His whimpering pain was long, possibly annoying too; since it was I, who was in need of medical attention. But the punishment comes first.

I groaned, fading from the scene. Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, but finally they were done, and now a man stared down at me.

The Captain, as he so likes to be called—half rolled me over as he assessed my wounds.

Shit, Hunter. Why you got to piss my lads off?

Guess I got the face for it. It was a mumble, not even able to move my jaw or tongue. Coming out like, gethhe-I-goth-tha-flass-flor-it.

You got a red cloth on you every day you been here. He poked along my ribs, letting me hiss and squirm with each touch. Ah, you’re broken in all seven of em, shit even you fingers are busted and I don’t even want to think about your head. You’re a mess, Hunter.

Be okay in a bit. I coughed blood. Had to give it to the Captain, he was one of the few who didn’t fight me, but praised me. How’s your boy?

Trey’s tense for a reason this day as it is. He’s to be bonded before the next full moon or he’s gonna have some problems.

Sure he does. I rolled to my back, wanting to risk lifting my arm. It was pointless. Everything was out of function, least for the moment.

And you two?

I don’t got problems, he was the one that started on me.

As they all do. Yet you’re the one sniffing their girls.

Well, the girls sniff me out. Not my fault, not one bit.

The Captain was on his haunches still, nodding away to his thoughts, he scanned over my eighteen year old form. Give or take. Since it was hard to tell my body age these days. The Captain was a lean man to gaze at, but young of face, not more than twenty five at most, though secretly, it was said he was possibly in his hundreds. Lycan’s have an immortal life once bonded to a Moroi, like so many others out there. It was part of their alliance with vampires that made it possible. I wasn’t all too sure of the facts. Well, I knew some of them, but the facts didn’t do anything for me. I was just a dhampir. I wasn’t vampire. I wasn’t human. I wasn’t lycan bonding material, which was the good news.

There was commotion, two Moroi entered with a stretcher and medic pack. Now help arrives. Seemed a time as they worked over me, lifting me up and carrying me along the hall to the infirmary where they poked and jabbed me with all kinds of needles. Time shifted, one where I could laps into a daze and hope I didn’t feel anything. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible.

The pain I was feeling, started to shift, tumbling inwards. And if I had never experienced it before, I would be screaming with fear. But this wasn’t new to me. My arm jerked out unexpectedly, realigning itself, as to my right arm, my ribs rippled and cracked into place as my jaw jarred and popped into its right position.

To an onlooker, I was a corps returning from the dead. Jolting, cracking, rising and screaming as it took place. well, groans and gasps were all that escaped since it was sudden and possibly instant. The blood I had lost was there, but the wounds were sealing over, healing from the inside out. My breath heaved, and I was back to normal.

Blinking through dull eyes, groggy came to mind. A bitter taste touched my tongue and the sides of my mouth as I sought for water to wash it away. Ugh. Vamp blood. Always makes me feel like shit. Healing juice aside, it never gave me a buzz that humans speak of, hell it didn’t do anything but fix my broken body. My inner healing juice that was strong when I was a kid, had faded over the months, though I secretly wondered if it was from all the beatings the damn Lycans gave me.

I sat up, and assessed the room. It was late, maybe even after midnight. Not a sound was heard, well. A beep and a tick were all my limited skills could pick up. I ripped off the IV and gave the empty blood bag a glare. Stupid shit. Wish I didn’t have to be given it. Surprised I don’t turn vamp with all that they pump me full of. I swung my legs over, seeing I was in my jeans. My shirt must have been ruined in that tumble. I glanced for a robe of some kind, nothing near me. Well, guess walking the halls without a shirt was the answer then.

Finding the sick bay empty of any other vamps or lycans wasn’t a surprise. Stepping into the hall, I sniffed the air. There wasn’t a sound, or smell out of place. So I headed out. I had to give it to Sword and Cross. It was a maze. Just as I got used to one path, another showed up unexpectedly.

Tonight was one of those nights.

I had exited the sick bay and taken this hall many times. But for the life of me, a path to the left after the stairs, was suddenly there. My interest picked up. I loved exploring areas that were out of bounds. Usually how I ended up in trouble, but curiosity killed the cat. I’m a dhampir.

Taking this hall, it led me downwards. Stairs led off into a hidden path. A faint glow was seen below. At a guess, it was an easy fifty feet down. Long way if I was thrown.

A whispering voice echoed from below. Tilting my head to make out the sound … singing maybe. Sounded like muttering with a cold, not nice or rhythmic at all. Humming was there, as to bells, or tings of rods hitting other rods. That was the best I could put together. Moving closer, I spied the shadow further ahead. They were dressed in a robe, the kind a monk would wear, and keeping a half slow walk that looked far too suspicious was doubling my awareness to full alert and ready to fight mode.

The shadow moved, the humming was from them. Once out of sight, I was finally on the bottom of this … dungeon? Another hall was here. Long too, and fire torches shined limited in sections. The muttering person was ahead, the shape and size was too muscled to be moroi, which made it a lycan. Pausing, and glancing to sneak on with no clue I was here. Fear was in the air, adrenaline too. Something wasn’t right. As if the air was made of acid or spices, I couldn’t name.

Something was wrong.

I kept to the shadows, stealth mode was my speciality. This lycan wasn’t alert to my presence, least it didn’t stop and check behind once. Just muttering on and on, humming like it was trying to remember how to growl when in human form and not a wolf. The lycan made it to the door, he didn’t knock; he flexed his shoulders and pushed the door open. The door slammed shut and that was when I saw her. Shit. This wasn’t good, was it?

It was a tiny glimpse of a moroi girl standing inside. And not any girl, the one I had for a fun time last night. Damn. What was she thinking? It was a mere millisecond that I saw her at all, and she looked a fright. Shit.

Lycan were not known for walking off and meeting moroi in secret places. Lycan were known for guarding them, protecting them, least that’s what they are trained to do. But this lycan, wasn’t bonded, which made him a threat, not a protector.

I was at the door, leaning towards it. Listening to all that my dhampir ears could make out. It was muffled, but sounds were there. Seemed there was a length of time passed before I could hear anything substantial.

You can’t. Her scream was there. No!

And that was all I needed.

I burst through the door, pushing my way in and between the two. Speed was all it took. And it wasn’t even a moment of time, it took milliseconds for it to happen. Moroi behind me, a lycan in front of me, and well; he was now monk free of his robes and in full form of his beast. A glaring mass of muscle and anger ready to bite down on her. No wait—on me.

But there was something in his hands. Pretty came to mind, pointed and aimed for my heart.

Chapter 4

TREY

My chosen

My shoulder ached, the Master’s bite was a bitch. The damn dhampir did this. Half breed thing. Ugh. Wasn’t even a cat, or a fox in my eyes. Just a thing that stank. All of us agreed. This dhampir was wrong. And should have been destroyed months ago. Now wasn’t about the dhampir. I had to focus.

My senses were alert, my eyes wide with desire for this moment. I knew what was coming. Hours ago since the fight, and still … I was ready for this. I was late.

I hope she’s still there. She said she’d wait. She’d be there. Please Val. Be there.

I walked the path shuffling the robe over my head. Midnight was approaching, the moon was full. It was the last two things I checked before taking this path. I started with the song of New, to allow My Beast understanding, and he started the tune also. A rare moment that we were echoing one another at the same time. It told me he was ready, he was willing, and this would join us in spirit and voice.

The hall was a glow of fire torches, hidden chimes that dinged and echoed to a rhythm of the joining chorus. A ceremony is always held in the shadows. I sniffed the air. She had been here. She … was here. I paused, now in fear.

Shit. Can I do this?

I had to. It was the only way. Time was against me. Time was always against me … us.

I wasn’t bonded, and I needed to be bonded soon. Or my time with this life would be at an end. I would forfeit immortality, and I’d never have a chance like this. She said she’d do it. She wasn’t rich, she wasn’t even of royal blood. But she was a moroi. She would do. I had the week to think about it. And well, that week was like a year ago in my eyes.

I was too angered when I smelt her on him. How could she bed him, fuck him. He is nothing. A shit kicker is what he is. I will ask her, and she will tell me the truth; and all will be known soon enough.

I paused at the door, sniffing. My heart was pounding, my chest was heavy. Opening the door, she gasped in fright of my shadowed appearance. I stepped inside and shut it just as quickly.

You came. She smiled timidly, a tiny moroi if I ever new one. Her hair was decorated in gems, her blue eyes were wide with hope and surprise.

You were with him. I had to set it straight.

You hurt Hunter, why?

How could you, Val. He is a foul thing that needs no attention from you. I thought you wanted me.

As my guard. And you will be my loyal and obey me always. Besides, it was nothing.

Nothing?

Yes. Nothing. Promise. She smiled, skilfully. Glancing around the empty chamber. With a nod of hope, she beamed wider. You ready to do this?

You sure?

Course.

I stood ready, sliding the robe from my head and dropping it down. Allowing the material to pool at my ankles. Val gazed to me with wide eyes. I was in my birthday suit, and sure, I new I was the perfect specimen as all Lycans are. But I would never want to sleep with this girl. I just want to be bonded, and if that is what it takes. My Beast was continuing the song, rumbling beneath the surface as she drank in my six and a half foot form, from my blue eyes to my black hair and down my form. She held out her palms, presenting me with the shard, dipping her head and allowing me to take the steps towards her. I stared into her eyes, knowing this was the last time I would be just me. This moment would be with me forever and together we would protect her.

I pulled the shard to view. Looking at her, dressed in white, her eyes on my form as it rippled and shifted. Her smile was a mix of fear and desire. I knew what lycan forms did to moroi. They were attracted to us, and I … well, it will be better bonded with a female than a male. That’s what the others always say.

Bonded. Yes.

We will be bonded.

Everything is prepared. She dipped her head, to the shadows around the chamber, the shapes of others lingered there. Those who witness, but do not speak. The right of passage. How, and why it was all so organised. My body twitched with hope. This was it. This was the moment I was waiting for. I held the shard up. A snarl on my lips, hope in my eyes as I pooled my desire, the logic of what was me. A connection, the magic of my kin, it was pooling together. Drawing into itself and flooding across my eyes.

"And I will end his life when we are done here."

You can’t. No!

I wanted to smile at her, stepping closer and ready to place the shard to her chest to bind us, link us, and all would be set.

I wasn’t expecting the doors to open, the shape of an intruder to stand where Val stood. And I wasn’t expecting her eyes of blue to be replaced with brown.

Dusted dhampir eyes glared back at me. And the shard penetrated into his chest.

NOooo!

My essence, my source of control, my moment of bonding was taken from me. Forced into—him.

Nooooo! I screamed, screamed it was a dream. A stupid, fucked dream where I would wake in sweat and fall off my bed, or run into the wall, or—scream. NO!

This was no dream.

The shard of joining, the ceremony of connection and linking was created in secret and in silence. Only those of the joining were aware of the act. Only those of the act were allowed. And the act was always done in the late of the night on the full of a moon and away from prying eyes.

I had been told my whole life, the shard would push into my chosen’s heart. It would not harm her. It would not hurt her. It would mould and blend with her moroi magic, with her essence as I held to it, with my mind set on the task of blending as one. To link her to me. I would have all of her in me, her thoughts. Her desire. Her hopes. Her dreams. I would be all that she wanted me to be. Her lover. Her protector. Her guardian. Her bonded.

But it wasn’t her.

It was him.

The illuminated glow of his eyes, the passing of his thoughts flooded me. Doubled and blurred, since it was so fast. His life was so short. A child, a toddler and a teen in less than three months of time. And that was half a second of thought alone. The beatings, the torment, the strange and unavoidable way of his life living here. Me beating him. Me harming him. The trauma of healing, of tasting blood and healing; and now this. The reason he barged in here. He thought I was to harm her, I was to kill her? She’d raised her voice. Too loud, that was why he stood between her. He had no idea what was happening. What this was for, and now … now he was joined to me.

The crack of the stone crumbled under my hand. I had crushed it, destroyed it with my anger of this bonding. But that didn’t stop the connection. That didn’t stop the dance of stars behind my eyes. The logic he was now my voice of logic, and way of life, My Beast’s chosen. No.

Our chosen.

The sudden connection, the power of the joining and we were jolted apart with a force I never heard of before. My head was fuzzed, clouded; pain was there, but annoyance also.

"You bastard!" I stood. Lunging towards him, ready to bite him, to end him. But he was my bond. He was my link. Shit. Shit. My Beast cowered, growled, snarled and pawed the ground to pace and half lunge and repeat the action. I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t even harm him. His stench flooded my nostrils. Road kill, burnt blood and all things of hell. Death walking is what he was. Growling and pacing, I whimpered in anger. Turning to Val. She stood in shock; she blinked away tears and the disappointment. I whined and pawed the ground. Ready to make it work right. Standing on my hind legs, I scanned the floor for the shard. Broken and gone. Bits of shard is what it was.

Damn it, no. Fuck no. No. No. No.

Easy… he spoke.

How dare he speak to me. And My Beast did as he said. Calming down. Tugh.

I don’t understand. Val spoke at last. What the hell are you doing here, dhampir? her cold eyes were full of anger though a desire was there, it was hidden. He was taken back by her demand.

He stammered for words, for understanding and explaining. I … thought you were in trouble.

Trouble? Val had her hands on her hips, sassy and that little bit snobby. This is an academy of training. The only trouble we get into is feeding too much. Lycan do not harm us here.

Well, Trey isn’t exactly a good lycan. Now is he.

He was unbonded for longer than expected, nothing more. He meant no harm. Why would you do this. Observers? Come forward now. Speak of this, undo this.

Yes. Undo this. I snorted at them all.

Why didn’t they put wards in place? Why didn’t they stop this? Why didn’t they stop him? I snarled and whimpered for doing such a thing to him. Instinct of the loyal, of the chosen path. Shit. He was mine now. I don’t want this. No. Never. He is just a stupid dhampir. He shouldn’t be bonded with. Or even be able to be bonded with.

That was the argument that started around me. And not just in my head.

I’m sorry. He repeated … to me, to the others. I honestly didn’t know why I came in. I was just … trying to help.

Two lycans came out of the shadows. Pack Master, and his second, the Beta. They were always witnesses to these ceremonies. They were always on guard. For their moroi, for their reasons.

"You are linked to the boy, Trey," said The Master, his voice in my head.

"Yes. Undo it now." I lowered my head, wanting him to see my fault. Undo this act. Take it from me. I wish not to have him as my chosen. It was not my choice.

"And yet it has happened." His second, Beta. He was wise, but tough.

I did not mean this. Please. Undo this darkness. This foul doing. It is not the way of lycans. Our lore and our laws law, we are to protect the moroi. Who will be Val’s protector if not me? I was lower, laying on my belly in the form of begging. I hated this position. But this was the Beast in me. The pup that knew only the rule of the Master. My Pack Master. He would answer this, understand. He would change it. All masters no the way. And My Beast wasn’t the one begging for the change, I was. I was now able to take hold of this form with strength, but not complete control. The Beast whimpered in shame of my words.

"There is no undoing of a chosen. And yet …a dhampir is not a real chosen at all." The Pack Master looked over to him. He gruffed at him, an order to make him come closer.

The stupid dhampir obeyed.

Get lost you half breed. I growled and whimpered at my action. I wanted to growl, my instinct to protect stopped me. Like a split personality inside me. Human half wanted to hate him, the beast wanted to honour him. Two parts, meshed as one. Anger rose and loyalty won. The Pack Master stood and shifted his form.

Hunter? You are a stupid son of a bitch. There was a pride in his voice, a fatherly care. I hated that too.

Honest, Captain. I didn’t mean this. I didn’t want this to happen.

Hmm … seems a mistake on your part and yet, an unfortunate and unlucky one on Trey’s. He was, as you know now; being bonded to Val, but with you stepping in the way. This has linked you to him.

You … you can’t be serious?

You felt it, didn’t you, boy.

Er … sure. Warm, fuzzy and a little tingly inside.

The Pack Master reached out, touching his chest and Hunter puzzled his sudden curiosity with his bare chest. Everyone stared at the same spot. My eyes glued to it with anger rising. The shard had entered into his chest. It melted his skin and merged the symbols of unity, of chosen and the bonded one. Slowly healing and pressed to his chest like a damn honours badge, and he beamed that wide gloating smile.

I growled.

Trey isn’t pleased. The half-breed said.

No, guess not. Pack Master looked at me and nodded.

I narrowed my eyes at Hunter, and he held a sheepish look, or was that pity, sadness. Ugh. The damn half breed dare look at me like that. I will not look up at him ever.

I stood, shimmered