Rhiannon Frater - The Fallen King

“Not you, Roman. You mean so much to so many people. I need you to help me survive. Vanora needs you, too. We all do. I don’t want you to leave us.” Alisha’s anguish was tangible and overwhelming.

Roman gently lifted her face as he whispered, “You’re strong, Alisha. You’re my legacy. My strength.”

Vanora shuddered as Roman’s blood ceased to return to him and instead crept up over Alisha’s body like long, red liquid snakes. Shivering, Alisha gripped Roman’s hand as his blood started to flow into her over her lips and into her mouth.

“Let it happen,” Armando ordered. “He’s giving you his power.”

Stepping forward, Vanora clasped her hands to her breasts. It was a terrible thing to see, Roman’s blood leaving his body to fill Alisha, yet she could feel the power flowing from her brother to infuse her sister. As gruesome as it was to witness, the moment was filled with love and it brought tears to her eyes.

Armando held out his hand to Vanora, beckoning her closer. “He’s nearly gone, Vanora. Say your goodbye.”

Stepping around her sister, Vanora crouched beside the sofa. Resting her head close to Roman’s, she gazed into his eyes. The life within them was dim. Gently, she laid her hand on his cheek. “I love you, Roman.”

“You’re my little Snow Pea.” His voice was barely audible. “My little sister. My little girl.”

When she pressed her lips to his brow, it was cold and hard like stone. “You were the best dad, Roman.”

That brought a small smile to his greying lips.

Thorns and roots started to puncture through his skin, but no blood flowed. Instead, his flesh fell away like gray ash.

“Roman,” Alisha sobbed, her lips red with his blood. “Don’t go.”

Vanora dared to touch Roman’s cheek. It crumbled beneath her touch, then sifted away in a cloud of dust. Falling back into her sister’s embrace, Vanora watched as Roman’s body vanished into a pile of dark ash piled around the twisted, thorny branch of a rose bush.

“It’s over,” Armando whispered, falling to his knees.

Roman was gone.

The pale moonlight glinted on the choppy waves of the Gulf of Mexico. In the distance, the coastal towns were a necklace of sparkling lights. Aeron stood on the deck of the ship, his hands gripping the cold metal rail. Out of the darkness, the She-Wolf approached.

“It’s colder than I remembered, Leto.”

“It’s winter.” Leto drew to his side, her dark hair tangled by the wind.

Aeron chuckled. “Not like the winters of my homeland.”

“Of course not. We are in the summer lands.” Leto tilted her head, regarding him with her keen wolfen eyes. “I have word from Lorelei.”

“What is the word?”

“Roman is dead. Slayed by her hand.” Leto’s full lips smirked.

“So it begins.” Aeron stretched out his long arms, bones popping and muscles stretching. He was looking forward to the coming purge. Already he was yearning for a new battle. “How did she kill him?”

“Rosewood.” Leto leaned her hip against the rail and directed her gaze toward him.

“A brutal, painful death that there is no escape from. That’s my darling little one.” Aeron laughed with delight.

“They’ll flee now that Roman is dead,” Leto said.

Aeron’s white hair twisted about his head like snakes. It was longer than usual and gave him the appearance of an ancient warrior. “No, no, they won’t. Vanora will stay and fight. It’s her nature.”

“What of the Roman’s vampires? The rogues?”

“It doesn’t matter if they run. I’ll find them and kill them.”

Leto inclined her head. “Of course.”

“There will be no mercy for the bastard children of rogue vampires.”

“What of Armando and Carlotta?”

That Leto should question him about Carlotta was not surprising, but Aeron felt defensive in regards to Armando. “Armando is my faithful son and will watch over Vanora as I ordered. Carlotta will be angry, but she’s fickle. She’ll find someone else to direct her affections toward soon enough.”

“You don’t think she will turn on you for betraying her?”

Aeron shrugged. “I kept my word to her. I didn’t kill Roman.”

Leto slightly wagged her head. “No, no. You just ordered it.”

“My hands are not stained by his blood.” Aeron placed one of his huge hands on Leto’s chest, just above the curve of her breasts. His fingers and palm covered most of her flesh. He was always surprised at how warm the She-Wolf flesh was whenever he touched her.

Leto lifted her wolf-eyes to his, her full lips slightly twisted upward to reveal long wolf teeth. “You’re colder than the night.”

“You’re as warm as sunlight.” Boldly, he slid his hand under the collar of her knit top to feel the heaviness of her breast.

Slightly narrowing her eyes, Leto allowed him to touch her, but her long fingers were slowly sprouting claws.

“The breasts that fed the first of the wolf-children,” he said in awe, then released her.

The long, black claws of the She-Wolf tapped against the metal rail. “I have what you crave. A legacy of children.”

“What I will have. The purge will wipe clear the world of the undesirables and I shall begin again. My children will rule by sun and moon and no one will stand in their way.” Aeron straightened his spine and stood tall, facing the salty wind. “The Seven Sisters are dead. It’s a new era. Soon, the new Seven will rise to claim the world in my name.”

Leto regarded the sliver of the moon hanging in the dark sky above them. “As it was prophesied...”

“As it was prophesied,” Aeron agreed. “I will not forget my vow to you, Leto. The wolves will once again be strong and not feral beasts lurking in the shadows.”

“As long as you do not keep your promise to me in the same manner as you kept your promise to Carlotta, I will stand with you.”

Aeron regarded the woman beside him that was virtually a goddess. She was beautiful, deadly, cruel, and powerful. A worthy ally in every regard. If Vanora was not his prophesied future, he would have tried to woo Leto into his bed and make her his queen. Instead, he was determined to have the She-Wolf at his side as his most trusted general. Yet, he wondered how long their truce could truly last. Once he claimed the world, would she turn on him? He supposed he would have to wait and see.

“Leto, Carlotta is a child. You are a trusted ally. I will not break my word to you.”

Leto gave him a curt nod. “Then all is well.”

“All is well,” Aeron agreed.

The ship sailed onward toward Houston.