Sophie Oak - Bound

Meg sighed. She knew there had been more to this than simple lust-at-first-sight. He had ambitions, and she figured into them. “He wants to take back his throne?”

“Yes,” Dante replied, as though it should have been blatantly obvious. “He wants to overthrow his murdering uncle. I know that you intend to run at the first opportunity. Don’t try to deny it. I would do the same thing in your place, but I’m asking you to give him a chance. Is there anything you could do on your home plane as important as freeing an entire population from tyranny?”

Well, put like that, getting back so her TiVo didn’t fill up seemed a little silly. The store where she worked wouldn’t be a problem. When she didn’t show up, the district manager would just fire her and put another in her place. She’d been told on more than one occasion that she was a dime a dozen. There were overeducated morons everywhere who needed a job. Her parents had divorced years before and started new families. It would be months before they even realized she was gone.

She could feel her face setting in stubborn lines. She hadn’t asked to be brought here. Just because her life was a little dull didn’t mean it was inconsequential. She had friends. Well, she’d had Michael’s friends, and they had all taken his side in the divorce, but she intended to make friends one day. She couldn’t do that if she didn’t get home. Cara’s small hand patting her in a comforting way didn’t count as friendship. The little gnome was her jailer.

No, no matter what that vampire said, she was leaving as soon as she could.

A loud horn sounded, and the crowd leaned forward expectantly. The battle was beginning. Meg’s breath caught as she saw Beck look for her. Their eyes met, and he bowed formally to her.

Yes, she would leave. Even though he made her heart pound, she couldn’t stay. Could she?

Beck watched Meg in the stands. It would be difficult, but he had to keep a firm grip on his emotions during this fight. Everyone thought Cian was the only one feeling the lack of a bondmate, but Beck had felt his hold on his temper slowly dissolving over the last few years. He felt his rage build after a fight rather than dissipate. He had become brutal when he didn’t need to be.

Just weeks ago, he had been hired to clean out a group of bandits plaguing the road to the marketplace. When he’d been surrounded by them, he’d gone a little crazy. He killed all thirty, and only just held off killing the females who had been travelling with them. His rages were getting worse. He wouldn’t be able to cover them for much longer. If they were forced to try to put him down, many people he cared about would die.

Cian might fade from existence like a candle being slowly snuffed out, but Beck feared he would go out in a blaze of blood and death. Dante was under strict instructions to use vampire technology to kill him if necessary, but he doubted his cousin would be able to do it.

Meg was the answer to all his problems. He bowed formally to the woman he intended to wed. At least she wasn’t trying to run, yet. He would have to deal with that eventually. He’d felt a small piece of her soul when he’d made her come before. He knew she was a stubborn girl. She was also a lonely girl. He didn’t need to see into her soul for that. She was lonely and scared. Beck wondered what she had left behind on the Earth plane. Had she left behind a husband, or worse, children? She was of an age to be a mother. His conscience hurt at the thought of leaving a baby without a mother, but there was nothing he could do about it. She would learn that there was no way back to her plane. Only a Planeswalker could take her, and she wouldn’t like the cost of the trip.

Beck felt the sand beneath his feet. He’d trained in an arena like this one back when he’d had loyalists who thought they could get him on the throne. He knew well how to fight here. The vampires were struggling, though. It wouldn’t take them long to adjust. Beck didn’t underestimate the vampires. They might seem soft because their true passion was business, but they were fierce predators. When the fight began, they would be in touch with their primal natures.

“Your Highness,” a young Fae said, not quite meeting his eyes as he walked past.

He was the first of ten men who walked past him. Beck could feel their disappointment. They had paid their money and laid their hopes on the line, too. Beck tried not to feel guilty. He had to do whatever it took to save his brother.

“Bastard,” one of the vampires spit as he walked up to Beck. His fangs were out, a sure sign of his rage. “Don’t even try to pull that shit on me, Finn. You aren’t a late entrant. Those fucking gnomes kept you out of sight until it was too late. None of us would even have tried, knowing you were going to be here.”

Beck was very still, though his eyes watched every move the vampire made. He looked vaguely familiar, but then, vamps often looked the same to Beck. “I paid my money like the rest of you. I wasn’t responsible for the list of competitors.”

The vampire sneered, and now he had others backing him up. The sidhe had all left, but the vampires were standing against him. “Right. You don’t have any sway with the gnomes.” His voice was filled with sarcasm. “They still see you as their king. Are you taking a cut?”

Beck’s eyes narrowed. A few of the smarter vampires took a step back. “I just want the girl. I’m not getting anything out of this except the girl.”

He tamped down his rage with ruthless precision. He thought about Meg sitting in the stands watching. He’d have given years off his life for her not to watch him. He didn’t want her scared of him.

“We’ll see about that.” The vampire’s fangs were already long in his mouth as the referee entered. The vamps retreated. They talked amongst themselves as the gnome needlessly explained the rules.

Everyone knew them. No technology was allowed. Ancient weapons were the only ones allowed. The vampires were able to use their fangs and claws. If Cian had been here, Beck would have been allowed to use their psychic connection. Other than that, there were very few rules. Mercy must be given if asked for. If a combatant requested quarter, the warrior fighting him must give it. The fallen fighter would leave, and the battle would resume. If no quarter was asked, then death was an acceptable outcome.

Beck felt the weapon in his hand. It was his sword, once his father’s. He had managed to save it as he fled Tir na nÒg. He had heard that his uncle mourned its loss. It was the traditional weapon of the Seelie King. No amount of money or power could replace what it meant to their culture. Some said that as long as Beckett Finn still carried the sword, there was hope. Beck wasn’t sure about that. A large part of him simply wanted to live out his life in some form of comfort. The idea of being king was a vague dream. Now he only wanted to save his brother and find a stable life. Winning Meggie was the first step.

There was a roar in the crowd as the referee held up a small black flag. A battle horn sounded, and the tournament began.

There wasn’t a burst of fighting. Beck knew that the vampires had used their time well. The vampires stalked him, attempting to distract him while some worked their way around to his back. Beck sighed. They intended to surround him. They would work together to take him out, and then they would fight each other.

They didn’t understand a thing. He very much preferred it this way. Chaos was his enemy. If he knew they were all coming after him, he knew exactly who to kill—every blasted one of them. Adrenaline began to course through his body like an old familiar drug in his system. Beck held his sword calmly at his side, patiently waiting for them to get into position.