Binding A Page

By Key Dyson and Raymond Roach

Chris is a small-town high school drop-out from West Virginia, still trying to find his feet in the deadly currents of vampire high society after being turned into one of their Rulers by accident. Gabe is a disgraced Page, stripped of his bond and left starving and alone in Chris's guest bed by a man who wishes neither of them well. An unlikely match, nonetheless Chris and Gabe find themselves drawn together against a world they're desperate to escape... and find in one another a chance for true freedom.

Written by Raymond Roach and Key Dyson.

Content warnings: Mention of: domestic, emotional and sexual abuse, drug use, captivity, violence, non-consensual bondage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Key Dyson
• Release date: Sep 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463094495

Key Dyson

Key Dyson lives in Virginia by the Blue Ridge Mountains, with two cats and a wonderful partner, and enjoys summer, hot chocolate, and singing harmony. They have been writing for more than twenty years, as well as co-writing with several excellent friends.Key is usually either writing or thinking about their writing, and has a number of creative projects in the works, including several other stories in the Michigan Fleet series and one in the same world as Binding a Page.

Book preview

Binding A Page

Raymond Roach & Key Dyson

Copyright 2019 Raymond Roach & Key Dyson

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

Part 1: Morning

Part 2: Evening

About Raymond Roach

About Key Dyson

Other Books by These Authors

Part 1: Morning

It's incredibly late, almost noon, by the time Chris walks into the fancy guest bedroom he's been given, and all he wants is to go to sleep, or possibly bury his face in a pillow and suffocate. Except that he probably can't suffocate anymore, and even if he could, his sire would still make him finish the rest of this stupid debutante tour to introduce himself to vampire society.

So far his observations of older Rulers are: they’re beautiful, confident, poised, polished... and universally unimpressed with him. They’re all, every one of them, everything the most powerful tier of vampires have ever been said to be, everything they should be, and Chris just very, very much isn’t. And they're all older, too.

Right now, Chris is the youngest Ruler by about half a century. In the same room as, say, Asmodeus, Ruler of Fell Wind Court and Chris's current host, Chris feels about as powerful and important as a bowl of oatmeal, and roughly as commanding as a puppy who's just had an accident and is hoping not to get whacked with a newspaper.

It's been a really fun visit, obviously.

So he thinks it's reasonable for his initial split-second reaction to be dismay when he reaches the king-sized guest bed and realizes there's someone already in it. Either he's made a mistake and this isn't his room after all, or someone else has and it's going to take time to straighten out when he could be sleeping.

Then the scent hits him and shock and concern—and arousal—drive everything else out of his mind. That's not some random person, some servant or peer who got turned around, that's a Page, one who smells… unbonded, he thinks? And really hungry.

The Page rolls over and jerks upright in a flurry of sheets and Chris has to swallow, because okay! Wow. The Page is a very good-looking guy. Athletically muscled and a natural blond, which Chris can tell at a glance because he's completely naked. He's got a sweet, expressive face, which he’s using to glare at Chris, but a blearily unfocused gaze, probably because he's so hungry his gold eyes are tinged red.

Hey, says Chris, his voice cracking like a dumb teenager. Um. What’s up?

The Page hisses at him, rattling and inhuman, short fangs flashing as his lips curl back in an unmistakable warning snarl. Don’t get any closer.

Chris finds himself letting out a soothing croon without even meaning to. Every instinct he’s got is shrieking at him to calm and protect, make everything okay, fix it. This guy’s naked and starving and scared...

Hey, hey, it’s all cool, he says, raising his hands and taking one careful step back, then another. It’s okay, man, you don't have to worry about me. Look, you can stay there, sleep there, that's just fine, I saw a sofa out in the sitting room that looked pretty comfy, I'll just go along and sleep out there today...

The Page’s snarl fades out as Chris backs away, but it isn’t until Chris makes it back to the doorway that the Page goes lurching forward on his knees, one hand outstretched like he could catch Chris from the other side of the room—except he has, actually, because Chris jerks to a halt immediately.

No, don’t, the Page says, swaying in place, fingers digging into his tousled golden curls, I’m sorry, don't go, don't leave me alone, please, I'm... I’m sorry...

Feed him, care for him, take him for your own, howl Chris's stupid vampire instincts, even as what’s left of his rational mind finally makes it through the haze of want and concern and points out, This is a setup. It has to be, Chris knows.

Unbonded Pages are rare in the first place; they only happen if their bonded vampire dies, or if they’re taken unwilling and refuse to bond with whoever turned them, or if their bonded vampire rejects them and severs the bond by turning them over to someone else. In every case the Page is supposed to find another vampire to take them in as soon as possible, for their safety as well as their sanity.

Chris hasn't even started thinking about a Page for himself yet, there’s been so much to learn and do and get used to without throwing an immortal psychic marriage contract into the mix. It seems like someone else has been thinking about it for him, though. At a wild guess, it wasn’t this Page himself.

A gorgeous, unbonded Page left waiting naked and hungry in the bed of an absurdly young, ignorant Ruler everyone’s already laughing at? There's no way this isn't a trap. Asmodeus or one of his Nobles is trying to trick Chris into... something.

Unfortunately, while this setup’s definitely been arranged, the Page's distress is totally sincere, a frantic, pitiful helplessness that hooks into Chris’s hindbrain and won’t let him go. Chris could smell it just fine even if he was deaf and blind and stupid, which means he can't just walk away from whatever’s happening here. Maybe this trap’s been set for him, but the poor piece of bait on the bed’s stuck right in there with him.

Okay, Chris says unsteadily, I won’t go anywhere, I’m here, man, whatever you like... he takes a few cautious steps toward the bed, hands up in front of him. He has to clear his throat before he can say it, uncomfortably aware of his face flushing hot.

You can drink from me, if you’re hungry.

The Page's head snaps up. He licks his lips, a hopeful chirp making it out of him before he chokes it off with another snarl. He can’t even pretend like he’s not starving.

What are you gonna want for it? he growls suspiciously. I can— I might do some stuff, but I won’t take your bond. You can’t make me.

Chris's mouth falls open as he stares in horror. Wow, who the hell has been forcing this guy into doing stuff for them before they'll let him feed? That's not how Pages are supposed to be treated, shit.

But then, they’re sure as hell not supposed to be laid out in the guest bed of a visiting Ruler, like bait in a bear trap. All the fiddly little layers of politesse Chris’s sire has been trying to pound through his thick skull these past few months don’t exactly work in a situation where both parties are getting screwed over from the start.

Nothing, he says forcefully. "I don’t know how folks ‘round here’ve been treating you but with me, you ain’t gotta worry about nothin’—" he breaks off, rubbing his face, takes a deep breath and tries to collect himself. And his fucking grammar.

You don't have to do anything for me, I promise, and of course I’m not gon— going to ask you to marry me before I give you a damn drink. I won't even touch you if you don't want, we can get a cup and a knife or somethin’. Just—tell me what you need.

Blood, the Page says. And— and maybe more. If you, if... maybe... the Page takes a breath, shifting restlessly, and Chris realizes he's half-hard. Red-sheened eyes rake Chris up and down and he tries not to hunch, well aware that he's not exactly male model material, unlike most of everyone who runs in vampire circles.

Any attractiveness Chris can lay claim to comes from his new Ruler mystique: mirror-silver eyes, killer smile, and a psychic presence that takes a sledgehammer to near everyone’s good sense, whether Chris means to or not. Chris’s rangy, raw-boned frame and narrow, sharp-featured face are definitely nowhere near handsome by anyone’s unbiased standards. At least the change cleared up his skin and added some lean muscle to his limbs, and all the fancy soaps and shampoos his sire insists on have made his hair a whole lot better, changing it from a lank mousey brown to something richer and fuller, something that a guy could describe as ‘auburn’ without outright lying. So he’s... not completely awful. And he’s plenty clean.

Take your clothes off and come here, the Page says roughly, apparently coming to the same conclusion.

Alright then, Chris says, dry-mouthed, and gets his stupidly expensive, fancy suit off with hands that