They snorted, calling my bluff.
I turned to scoot off the stool, but the man’s grip tightened on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d learned self-defense when I was younger but feeling weak and powerless, along with being hemmed in by these broad and extremely drunk men . . . it was of no use.
“Hey, Bart, why don’t you let the young lady go?” the barkeeper suggested, drying a newly washed glass.
“Stay outta this. Unless you want trouble,” Bart slurred, scowling at him.
The bartender murmured and stepped away. The bastard walked away! Leaving me alone with these assholes. Even the young man seated next to me had magically disappeared. Cowardly bastard.
“We want you to stick around, precious.” Spittle flew from Bart’s mouth onto my face. I held my breath, swallowing down the impulse to heave. His breath, a blend of alcohol and whatever food he’d just eaten, violated my nostrils, causing me to gag. “We’ll show you a good time, I promise.” He grabbed his crotch to confirm his point, forcing my entire body to shudder in disgust.
Stepping into this place was a terrible mistake. Trystan had lied to me. Bastard. But it was complete foolishness on my part to put my confidence in someone I didn’t know. And I was naïve enough to show up without a weapon.
“I just need to leave,” I said, attempting to free myself from the man’s steel grip. But I felt very weak. I hadn’t eaten anything in days.
“You can’t leave,” Bart slurred. “I want to give you a tour of my personal room.”
“Hey, jackass!” A powerful voice hollered from behind the men. “The young woman is with me.” All three men wrenched their heads toward the voice, their broad girth blocking any visual contact with my would-be protector. “I advise you to let her go before someone gets hurt.”
“Who the hell are you?” Bart spit his words, his steel grip remaining on my shoulder.
“I’m her personal guard, and if you don’t get your fetid, filthy palm off her, I’ll snap it into pieces.”
My personal guard?
The three men burst into laughter. Then Bart threatened the mysterious man.
“I’d like to see you try.”
As the last word escaped Bart’s mouth, the room fell deathly silent. Suddenly it swelled with the sound of snapping bones. Within the span of a breath, the two men with Bart were curled on the floor, wailing and writhing in agony. Bart instantly released my shoulder, and with a few more snaps, collapsed to his knees, clutching limp, displaced fingers. His screams sounded like that of an injured hog.
“Let’s ditch this joint,” a gentle voice murmured in my ear. Cool breath swept against my neck, causing me to twist back.
A handsome young man, who appeared not much older than me, extended his hand to me. He was around six-feet tall, with the deepest turquoise eyes. Eyes that looked like the sea on a bright summer’s day. Jet-black hair was clean cut and drawn back, but there were a few misplaced strands which had spilled over his sharp-featured, unblemished face. He was attired in black trousers and a black tunic. The belt slung around his midriff held two sharp daggers, one on each side, protected under a long black coat. Even with layers of clothes on, I could tell he was muscular.
He reminded me of Trystan, enough that it made me wonder if they were related.
Without a second thought, I clutched his hand and he promptly led me out the door and into Whisper Forest. I inhaled the clean air, savoring it.
He hauled me along with him, quietly weaving through the dense spruce, alder, and birch trees.
All I could think was . . . Trystan wasn’t a liar. He’d kept his word.
Chapter Four
My hero and I moved in silence for a few miles before he finally halted and faced me. He had to have been a vampire because he was unnaturally beautiful, just like Trystan.
“My name is Kylan. Trystan sent me. I’m sorry I was late.” His melodic tone had a slight accent I couldn’t place.
“Thank you. It’s fine. I mean, I’m fine, so it’s . . . fine.” Gods, I sounded like a fool, stumbling through my words. But a grin raised on his perfect lips. “Where are we going?”
“To a secure place, where you’ll meet the rest of the team.”
I sucked in an abrupt breath. “Trystan sent a team?”
“Yes. His personal cadre.” I detected a slight furrow in his brow, and his tone made him sound almost disappointed. Maybe he didn’t agree with Trystan assigning them to help me. Perhaps he didn’t want to be here either.
“What’s a cadre?” It wasn’t a word I was familiar with.
He hesitated, his eyes scouring the woods, observing, sniffing. When it seemed to be clear, he explained. “We are members of his personal cell, trained assassins dedicated to protecting the Vladu family at all costs.”
Whoa. That was a load to take in. “If you’re trained to protect his family, then why are you here?”
A sneer. “Because I am adhering to Trystan’s direct order. Please don’t judge his actions too hastily, Miss Caldwell. He is trying his best to keep you and your family safe, but his hands are somewhat tied without the blood bond.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know about the blood bond?”
He spun and faced me entirely, eyes narrowing.
“We know everything that concerns Trystan and his household. Everyone within the Vladu coven knows about the bond. There is nothing hidden, especially something as serious as a blood bond, and I am here because rescuing you is his main priority.”
“Why would I be a priority?” I sighed.
“Because Trystan is our prince; therefore, if you choose to seal the bond with him, you will become our princess.”
A prince? I choked on my next breath. “Wait. What? I assumed the reason Trystan had all these resources and a personal cadre was that his family was wealthy. He said he was a pureblood, but he never mentioned anything about being a prince.”
Kylan’s head cocked to the side. Amusement danced in those turquoise eyes. “Would it have made a difference if he did?”
“Yes. I mean . . . no,” I paused, considering what I honestly thought. “I wouldn’t have sealed the bond, if that’s what you’re asking.” I shook my head. “I—I don’t know your prince. He was the one who pursued me. Then he bit me. I had no choice in the matter.” I exhaled, rubbing my throbbing temples. “I can’t . . . I won’t be bound to someone I don’t know anything about or make such a reckless decision that will influence the rest of my life. This is a huge deal to me. Something that can’t be rushed.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. I do understand your dilemma. But I’ll have you know . . . Trystan has never made such an impetuous decision; especially regarding something as serious as a blood bond. You have no idea how many women would die to be in your position.”
I sighed, recalling the night of my birthday party. I’d watched the girls contending for his attention, hurling themselves at him. But he was a vampire, and I was certain his charms and persuasion were considerably greater being a prince.
“Trystan is free to choose any woman he wishes. I won’t bind him to me just because he chose to save my life. Don’t mistake me. I’m grateful. Incredibly grateful. But being bound to someone for that purpose alone . . .” I hesitated, overwhelmed. “I just turned eighteen a few days ago. I’d like to live life on my own terms for a while.”