Blood of a promise, p.1
Blood of a Promise, page 1
Leeah Taylor
Blood of a Promise
Copyright © 2020 by Leeah Taylor
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
First edition
Cover art by Love Drunk Premades
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For my daddy who lit a fire in me to go after all the things I always wanted.
Contents
1. Prologue
2. Chelsea
3. Chelsea
4. Lucien
5. Chelsea
6. Lucien
7. Lucien
8. Chelsea
9. Chelsea
10. Lucien
11. Chelsea
12. Chelsea
13. Lucien
14. Chelsea
15. Chelsea
16. Lucien
17. Chelsea
18. Lucien
19. Chelsea
20. Chelsea
21. Lucien
22. Chelsea
23. Lucien
24. Chelsea
25. Chelsea
26. Chelsea
27. Lucien
28. Chelsea
29. Lucien
30. Chelsea
Thank you for reading!
Also by Leeah Taylor
1
Prologue
Light-hearted chatter warmed through Lucien Frost as the streets of Sterling came to life and day turned to night. The Riverfront lit up with big bulb white lights strung between the streetlights and the usually busy street transformed into a fairytale Winter wonderland.
Only the best for Sterling.
Champagne glasses clinked together as he waded through ball gowns and tuxedos. He scanned the water; the Falls silhouetted in the distance, and welcomed the cool fall breeze sweeping over it. Jackets and shawls pulled tighter in the crowd to ward off the cold while he itched to get out of his, loosen his tie. Cool off.
He made his way up to the bar next to the stage, flashing a standard smile and a nod at the men and women gathered there. Drinks in their hands and blissfully ignorant to all the secrets weaving through their perfect little city. To the danger that lurked right beside them. He leaned over the bar, smirking and shaking his head.
“It looks like an upscale costume party,” Ollie teased, pouring a bourbon, and pushing the shot glass to him.
He’d never hear of it, and Lucien wasn’t about to say it, but a tuxedo suited his usually relaxed baby brother. It brought out the family resemblance. Dark hair, charm, and a tux.
Must be a Frost.
Now if only he’d roll his damn sleeves down and put the jacket on. Showing off the splashes of ink up his arms was more important.
Lucien lifted the shot glass with a smirk. Not like a tux ever dampened Ollie’s luck with the ladies or gents. They still drooled and batted their eyes at him. Suppose it had more to do with his skill in the bedroom, or that was the reputation following him through Sterling.
“I hate this event,” Ollie grumbled as he poured a shot.
He wasn’t the only one.
“Trust me, we all know how much you despise the Winter Solstice.” Lucien glanced at him. “Nobody said you had to come.”
“Damien already ditched. Wasn’t about to abandon you too.”
With Ollie manning the bar, he’d not make a scene. Damien was a whole other animal. One snide comment from a witch and at least one poor bastard was leaving the event with a bloodied lip. He’d never hear the end, not to mention all the bureaucratic nonsense that followed his brother like a shadow. Smooth over one outburst or the next. He did what he could. Damien didn’t deserve that much.
“I assume our petulant brother went hunting?”
Ollie pointed to the sky. “Is it the full moon?”
Lucien looked up to take it in. It seemed fuller than usual, casting a bright glow over the Riverfront. A whisper of a memory ached down in his bones.
Pity any wolf that risked getting caught near the barrier tonight. They knew better than to get close, or at least they’re supposed to. He didn’t monitor Damien’s favorite pastime, but he promised he gave them a warning shot. It was easier to trust his word than babysit him like a child.
He took a sip of his drink, appreciating the smooth warmth that slid passed the back of his throat down into his belly.
“Well, I’d much rather he terrorizes the wolves than us or Sterling.”
“He has his good days.” Ollie filled another shot of whiskey and swallowed it back with a hiss.
Lucien smirked. “Not nearly enough of them.”
His foul mood got the best of him these days. Better he kept his distance while stuck in his own head and haunted by his demons. Damn well deserved to be miserable.
Let him wallow in all his fuckups.
“Juliette should be here.” He blurted it out with no idea why he brought her up, but it was true.
A part of their family was missing, and time didn’t heal all wounds. It barely lessened the chasm her absence created. It only served as a painful reminder.
Ollie said nothing. The corner of his lips pulled down. Grief flashed in his expression.
Lucien cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s whatever.” Ollie dismissed it in his way by filling another shot glass to the rim with whiskey. He put it back, and an inspired look flashed in his eyes. “You see the Regent tonight?”
He pointed across the street.
Don’t do it. Don’t look.
Lucien lifted his eyes to the other side of the street and knew as he took her in, mouth running dry, he made a mistake.
Damn it!
He swallowed when striking green eyes locked with his. She was exquisite in a floor length black ball gown that hugged her curves. It sparkled magnificently, like stars twinkling in the sky, under the lights strung up above her head. A light pink flush crept into her cheeks, making her more beautiful.
I am so fucked.
Chelsea Greaves was too beautiful, inside and out, to never notice. It was decades spent infatuated by Juliette Marquis that held hostage to his heart and kept him distracted. But now the haze had lifted, and he was seeing her for the first time. She spent decades as nothing more than a girl with a mean crush and watched her grow into a stunning woman. Powerful in her own right.
Don’t do it.
The consequences if he crossed the street to her were steep. It wasn’t breaking the laws. Dancing. It wouldn’t be the first time he even asked her. But it was the first time asking her to dance and feeling like she could be his entire world. If he let her.
She bit down on her bottom lip and the battle raged in her gaze as she pulled her sheer black shawl tighter around her shoulders.
Don’t look at me like that, Gorgeous.
Ollie chuckled behind him. “You’re welcome.”
“Screw off.”
“How long’s it been since you had an actual conversation with her? Like really talked to her beyond Council stuff?”
Lucien downed the rest of his drink. “Years.”
“Ten years?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Well,” Ollie laughed. “That girl has had eyes for you for the better part of fifty years. About time you noticed her back.”
“I’m noticing her and that’s the problem.”
Gorgeous green eyes pierced through him, luring him away from the right thing to do.
God, I want her.
“Fucking hell, Ollie.” He pushed off from the bar as his brother’s laugh followed him through the crowd.
A slight smile crept up on her lips as he closed the distance between them and stepped up on the curb. She bowed her head slightly, eyes shifting in his direction as he stilled beside her.
“Mr. Frost.”
“Madame Regent.”
Amusement danced in her eyes as she looked him over. “As always, you’ve outdone yourself. Do you try to beat out the previous year’s budget for every event?”
“Not if I can help it.” He cleared his throat. “You look stunning tonight, Chelsea.”
Crimson painted up her neck into her cheeks.
“Surprised you noticed.”
Ouch.
“I’ve always noticed you. I’ve just never seen how exquisite you are until tonight.”
“Lucien.” She blew out a breath, meeting his gaze.
“Don’t do something we’ll both regret.”
I wouldn’t regret it.
He itched to reach for her. Tuck back the golden strands that had fallen in her eyes. Get lost in the bright green warmth.
“I don’t do regrets.”
“That’s a lie.”
The words stung. Cut through him like hot knives driving deep in his chest.
“You’re right.” He nodded. “I have one regret.”
And it haunted him. Every single day.
Chelsea sighed. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.”
“It entirel
Tonight wasn’t about regrets. Or the past. Both belonged buried deep.
He offered his hand to her. “Dance with me.”
She stared at it as if whatever decision she made would determine her future. If only it was that simple.
“Lucien…”
“Hardly crossing the line.”
“The laws—”
“Have nothing against dancing. It’s harmless.”
She cracked a smile, eyes lit up, and she slipped her hand into his.
“Hardly harmless.”
He chuckled. “You’re probably right.”
Eyes of every witch in the Riverfront followed him off the curb. Watching every touch as he led her out into the street amid dozens of other couples dancing.
We aren’t a couple.
He slid an arm around her waist, took her hand into his, and the gasps and whispers echoed between his ears when he pulled her flush to his chest. He didn’t give a damn.
Witches, vampires, and humans no longer existed. He wanted her. Heart, body, and soul, Lucien wanted what he’d been denying himself.
Because he always noticed her, but tonight, he saw everything he ever wanted.
“Everybody is watching.” She whispered.
“Well, you’re just so beautiful.”
A smirk lit up her face. “People will talk.”
“About what?” He smirked. “A King of Sterling and its Regent sharing a dance? Are the witches that bored?”
“Louisa is watching.”
Good. Sterling’s Oversight and Elder can watch all she wants. What was she going to do? Not a damn thing.
“Let her.” He hooked a finger under her chin for one more greedy glimpse at her stunning beauty. “We’re just dancing.”
She relaxed into his lead, and he couldn’t resist the need to inhale her. Sweet jasmine engulfed him.
I’m so screwed.
“You’ve avoided me for ten years.”
He faltered slightly. “I know. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention.”
Not entirely.
“I’ve avoided you too. Even after all this time it still hurts, ya know?”
He sighed. “I know.”
“Do you hear from her?”
“No, not a word.”
If she’d just call. Email. Text. Something so he knew she was okay. Safe. But no contact meant keeping him and Ollie safe. Damien’s wrath knew very little bounds with Juliette.
She cleared her throat, and he saw the question before the words left her mouth when she lifted her eyes.
“Do you still love her?”
He thought about it before nodding. “I’ll always love her. She’s family, but I don’t think that’s what you meant.”
“It’s not.”
It was pleading in the way she searched him for the answer. Fifty years she pined for him as he did for Juliette. Never looking quite satisfied with any other man on her arm. And there were other men, but none never lasted long.
“No, not like that. Not anymore. It was never my place to feel that way about her.”
It was Damien’s, and he fucked that up royally.
Chelsea tucked her head under his chin, and he held her closer.
“Ever wish you were somebody else? Living a different life?” She whispered.
“All the time.”
The damn witch laws. Archaic and ridiculous. Dictating who can love who. Death to those they deemed loved wrong.
God, right now my cock doesn’t really care.
“All we’ll ever get is a dance, Lucien.”
“Is it?”
Her head fell back, and it would be too easy to swallow up the bit of space to claim her lips. Dark crimson never looked so delicious.
“You deserve so much better,” He dragged his knuckle down her cheek. “Then this world. Our world.”
“I just want the chance to want what I want.”
“So do I.”
“You can have what you want.”
He shook his head. “Not this time.”
“If I was as brave as my mother, this conversation would go differently.”
“Gorgeous, she’d be damn proud of the woman you’ve become. You’re strong and I can say with certainty that your mother would say you can have whatever you want. God knows she did.”
And it got her killed. He fought to keep the memories from trying to creep in his thoughts at bay.
The glassy shine in her eyes conflicted with the smile spread over her lips. “You were her favorite. Did you know that?”
He smirked. “I knew that.”
“Keep your eye on the one in the suit, Chelsea. If you’re going to give your heart away, might as well be the good-looking one.” She giggled. “The diplomatic peacekeeper. Even George liked you, and that’s saying a lot.”
It’s why he had to walk away from her.
The song ended too soon. He wasn’t ready to let her go. Their next dance already felt too far. Pulling away, he kissed the back of her hand. The hushed gasps audible even with the upbeat song blasting off the stage
“Until our next dance, Madame Regent.”
He needed distance. This was a terrible idea. Now he wanted her even more. Wanted to give her the world denied to her because of the laws.
“Lucien…”
When he turned to look at her, taking her in one last time, he was ready to go to his knees for her.
“Yes, Chelsea.”
“Would it be worth it?”
“What’s that?”
“Having whatever I want?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Would you protect me if they tried to take what I want away?”
“Till my dying breath, Gorgeous.” He meant every word. “Good night, Chelsea.”
She nodded. “Good night, Lucien.”
He made his way back through the crowd. Resisting the urge to go back to her. He ignored any sense in his head and let his heart rule. It would only lead to trouble.
Lucien pushed through the crowds into Juleps where the liquor flowed too freely. The bar across the room buried two deep and, if he cared enough, he’d get Ollie. But he didn’t care enough. Not if it meant seeing her again because he only had so much resolve. Lucien headed upstairs to the office.
He needed to breathe. He needed a stiff drink.
Once inside the office, the music and voices a dull nuisance with the door closed, he finally sucked in a breath.
“The hell am I thinking?” He stalked to the mini bar behind his desk. “I will kill Oliver for encouraging that mess.”
He’s supposed to be the rational brother, but there wasn’t one ounce of rational thought in his head out there. What about seeing her tonight made all of it go out the window? If, by some miracle, he and Chelsea got together, the consequences were steep. Death a genuine possibility.
I can’t risk her life just because I feel something for her.
Downing the first drink, he set the glass down, loosened his tie and filled it again. Ready for the night to be over so he could go home. The door behind him opened, and he pinched the spot between his eyes. All his patience tapped for the night.
“Whatever it is, go find Ollie.” He ordered.
Practically his bar anyway. Let him handle it.
“Do you promise?”
He twisted around and stopped on those gorgeous green eyes.
“Chelsea? What are you doing?”
“Answer me.”
“You don’t understand what you’re doing here.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, Lucien Frost. I’ve loved you for decades. I know what I feel, which means I know what I’m doing.”
She took a step towards him. “Promise me.”
He shook his head. “No, promise me you understand the consequences of what you’re doing here by asking me that.”
“I know the consequences. Intimately.” Tears built up in her eyes, threatening to spill. “Promise. Me.”
The memory still fresh after nearly two decades. The witch laws took Chelsea’s mother from her. Her stepfather. For nothing more than loving each other. For marrying each other. Because she was a witch, and he was a vampire. Forbidden. Lucien held her back when she went running for the flames as they engulfed her mother. He held her as she broke in his arms, watching it happen and helpless to stop it. Hysterical and devastated.
“Chelsea…”
I only have so much strength, Gorgeous.
“Promise me, Lucien Frost. Promise me that if I cross this room and turn my back on the laws, you’ll protect me because you are all I’ve ever wanted, and I’m done denying myself what I want out of fear. I deserve better than that. So, say it already, damn it.”
