Claimed By The Wrong Prince

I stood still as the attendants laced the final ribbons of the emerald gown across my back, the silk whispering against my skin like a promise I had waited my whole life to hear.

It was finest dress I had ever been placed in.

Usually I wore modest white or cream gowns to signify my unclaimed status, along with the white silk collar always present at my throat.

But my twentieth-first birthday was only four days away, and with it would come the official announcement.

After all these years of training in the royal halls—learning how to offer my throat, my body, my future—I would finally belong to Prince Evander.

Not as a wife, of course.

Vampires did not marry humans.

That was an obscene thought and the very first lesson drilled into the children of our kingdom.

I could almost hear my old tutor repeating the four phrases we started each day with as I sat cross-legged on the classroom floor.

The living dead own you.

They protect you.

They will never love you.

Accept your duty and be content.

I had never questioned it.

I knew some did - those unlucky enough to be chosen for the feeding houses or to simply serve as domestic help.

But I was special.

Raised for more.

I would be the prince’s life companion: blood, pleasure, and children.

All of the things my soft human body could provide would be given freely and gladly.

In return, I would receive status, protection, and a life far above the common folk of the court.

I was lucky.

I knew that.

Most humans raised for this duty never saw the inside of the royal wing, let alone earned a place beside a prince.

They were given to the lesser nobles in country estates or sent to other kingdoms to serve.

I would stay right where I was in the familiar surroundings of my childhood - my standing changed in less than a week.

Which was why tonight I was finally allowed to wear a dress befitting the style of the other ladies at court.

I glanced at myself in the mirror and noted with approval the pink glow to my cheeks.

Vanity was not encouraged among companions but I knew my features were pleasing to most.

I had long copper hair that fell in loose waves to my waist, amber eyes, and creamy nut-brown skin.

My figure was slim but rounded, carefully kept within the limits of optimal childbearing measurements by special diet and light exercise.

I knew Evander liked my appearance.

His eyes always lingered over me every time we were together in court, sometimes scandalously so.

Evander had always been the kindest of the royal house—gentle, thoughtful.

He had blonde hair and green eyes and a dimple in his mouth everytime he smiled.

We had been raised together.

He was five years older than me and had always known I was to be his.

The idea of feeding him, of sharing his bed, of bearing his heirs, did not frighten me the way it might have frightened others who only met their companion on the day of the claiming ceremony.

I had been prepared for duty.

I welcomed it.

The attendants finished pinning my pale red hair into a loose braid and stepped back.

“You look ready, Miss Elowen,” one murmured.

I tried to bury some of my excitement beneath a simple nod.

It was unbecoming of a companion to show emotions.

We were meant to be mere shadows that fulfilled our purpose without fuss and complaint.

Not be a giddy girl acting as if she was secretly meeting her betrothed for a midnight kiss.

I had met with Evander like this many times.

There would be a chaperone.

He wouldn't be allowed to touch me.

All of that would wait until he took my first time and claimed me as his in front of all the royal court.

I bit back another excited smile.

A guard escorted me through the marble corridors and out into the moonlit gardens.

Lanterns floated along the paths, casting silver light over the roses.

Prince Evander waited by the fountain, tall and slender, his golden hair catching the glow.

I was caught all over again at how much I adored him. He was handsome in that boyish way—soft features, an easy smile that reached his eyes.

Not the sharp, intimidating beauty of his older brother or the king’s cold grace.

But warm.

Familiar.

I pushed aside thoughts of his family and moved forward.

“Elowen,” he said when he saw me, voice low and pleased.

He took my hands as I curtsied, his fingers cool but gentle, before he retreated with a rueful smile as the older woman to our side made a sound of disapproval.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He said, eyes doing their usual close study of my body.

I met his gaze. “Thank you. I am honored to serve you, Your Highness. I will give you my blood, my body, and as many children as you desire. I swear it.”

A faint smile curved his mouth.

I said the same thing every time I saw him.

He lifted one hand and pressed a light kiss to my knuckles, once again earning us another rebuke from the chaperone. “I know you will, sweetness. And in return, I will treasure every gift you give me.”

He sat on a bench near the bubbling fountain and patted the space next to me.

I sank down beside him, letting my skirts settle around me.

His eyes traced the collar at my throat, unmistakable hunger in their depths, before they raised to me.

“This is our last meeting before the ceremony.” Evander said gently. “Do you have any questions for me?”

I shook my head. “I am ready.”

“I know you have attended all of your lessons and completed your training. But now is the time to allay any fears you have.”

I glanced up at him and saw he meant it, his eyes still studying me softly.

I hesitated and then said slowly. “May I ask about the feeding?”

He chuckled. “Of course. Have you seen one before?”

I nodded, not wanting to revisit the times our tutor had taken all of the companions in training to one of the feeding house to observe the process.

I still remembered the blissed-out expressions of the men and women as vampires had sipped from their wrists, throats and other more intimate places.

I blushed now, wondering where Evander would choose to feed from me.

“The feedings need not be harsh. I would make them easy for you.” He said, misinterpreting my expression.

My cheeks warmed.

I glanced down at my hands. “I know they can bring great pleasure. But I have heard it depends on the vampire. Can they truly be as painful as the other companions say?”

Evander shook his head. “They do not have to be. Not when it is someone you care for. I have known you since you were a child in these halls, Elowen. I could never hurt you. You will enjoy it.”

My heart fluttered, wild and hopeful.

Evander’s shoulder brushed mine, his voice dropping lower and only for my ears. “You will enjoy everything that happens between us. As will I.”

I took in a quick breath, almost imagining him slowly sipping from my throat before he eased my legs apart and took me in slow careful thrusts.

The first time would probably hurt - I had seen a few claiming ceremonies to know that much - but then it would be good.

I was sure it would be.

I would give him everything he wanted.

My belly would soon grow big with his child and my heart would finally be fulfilled.

This was fate.

“Sweetness.” Evander nudged me again. “Is there anything else you want to say to me tonight?”

I glanced up at him.

The words I had never dared speak pressed against my tongue—I have loved you for so long—ready to tumble out under the soft moonlight.

It was wrong to say them.

I couldn't.

I was merely a companion.

But oh how I wanted to.

Then a shadow passed along the path behind him.

Prince Silas.

He moved like winter given form—tall, dark-haired, eyes like obsidian.

He was already thirty-two and had never been married.

Never had a companion.

Everyone whispered that there was something wrong with him.

He spent his nights in the feeding houses, not only drinking but doing other disgraceful things with the women and men there, and spent his days half drunk on a throne he barely seemed to tolerate.

His presence now cut through the garden’s sweetness as sharply as a blade.

He slowed, lip curling as he took in the sight of us: Evander’s shoulder touching mine, the tender closeness between us.

“Touching,” Silas drawled, voice like frost. “The two of you already playing at domestic bliss. How quaint.”

Evander straightened, but did not move away. “Silas.”

Silas’s gaze flicked to me, cold and cutting. “You would do well to remember your place before it is announced Elowen. Human companions may be useful, but they are not equals. They are for feeding, fucking and filling wombs. That is your only purpose here.”

I gasped at the words.

Evander stood quickly, moving in front of me protectively. “Silas. Do not be so crude.”

Silas shrugged. “Better her eyes are opened now. Yours too, little brother.”

My breath hitched as his gaze found mine again.

“Return to your nursemaids before you forget exactly what you are here for. Or stay and I can decide to remind you myself.” He said, his tone dark and low.

The words stung.

Even more than the threat.

The chaperone didn't even protest.

Silas was the oldest and clearly had more power than Evander, even the freedom to apparently intimidate unclaimed companions.

Heat rushed to my face—this time from anger, not hope.

But I couldn't say anything. Not even to point out I hadn't had a nursemaid since I was twelve years old.

If I displeased Silas, he might tell his father.

And I would endanger my position with Evander.

So I just dipped into a stiff curtsy, schooling my features the way I had been taught.

“Yes, Your Highness.” I said politely.

He grimaced, as if even my response was an annoyance to him.

I cast one more shy smile to Evander before I turned and walked away, back straight, heart pounding.

Anger still simmered beneath my ribs, but it could not extinguish the quiet thrill still fluttering there.

In four days, everything would change for the better.

I would belong to Evander.

I would fulfill my purpose.

I would be wanted.

Silas would have to respect me then.

I did not look back at either prince.

I had no reason to.

My future was already decided.