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A Bond of Fate and Blood (BL)

Damien had always been told that when he met his mate for the first time, he would immediately know them as his intended. As a lone wolf raised among humans, Damien long awaited the revelation of his destined love. But everything goes horribly wrong when he meets his mate, the vampire responsible for the death of his pack! There’s no way Damien can accept his fate, even if it kills him. He’ll just have to kill the vampire first. Updates Weekly

VHBlood · LGBT+
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54 Chs

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Scaling a stone wall wasn't an easy task, but it happened to be one of the skills at which Cain was fairly practiced. So, when he took off at a run for the wall of the keep, he expected to be able to scale it with only a small bit of difficulty. He hadn't accounted for the fact that he'd been weakened by the thrice-blessed blood, though, and instead of the high leap he'd been aiming for, he barely managed to lift his body off the ground, resulting in a rather pathetic 'thud' sound when he crashed into the doors instead of reaching the stone outcropping above them.

He slid gracelessly down the heavy doors and landed in a shameful little pile at the foot of them. From the guardhouse, he could hear Evan trying very hard to smother her laughter. He appreciated the gesture, even if it was futile to try and hide something like that from hearing as sensitive as a vampire's.

Groaning, Cain pulled himself to his feet and dusted himself off. It was pointless to try and make excuses for his poor performance - it would just make him sound even more pathetic. Instead, he shook out his limbs and reconsidered his options. He could always try and break down the doors, but that sounded annoying, and it would also make things difficult for Evan. He could try and take another flying leap, but he wasn't expecting the second attempt to be much better htan the first. After a few moments' consideration, Cain decided that the best alternative route was to attempt to scale the doors themselves.

It wasn't as direct or easy as leaping over them would have been, but he realized after only a bit of investigation that if he lifted his leg high enough, he was able to hook his toe in the door handles and hoist himself from there. Grabbing the lip of the stonework around the door, Cain managed to drag himself up and over. He laid atop the doors for a moment to catch his breath, then carefully rose to his feet and began the climb up to the windows. It took far longer than such a feat normally would, but then, Cain could hardly be accused of being in peak physical condition at the moment.

From below, he occasionally caught snatches of what sounded to be cheers of encouragement from Evan, who had come out of the guardhouse to watch him climb and cheer him on. Most of the thralls on guard duty would never have been so lenient, but Evan was still young, and quite rebellious. She loved loopholes almost as much as Cain did, and she especially hated Crowe. So it was quite fortunate that she'd been the one at the gate.

Groaning, Cain finally managed to reach one of the windows. His fingers were shaking from the effort of holding his entire body weight aloft, and he thought one or two of his nails were looking more ragged than they had before. But, with some creative twisting and a bit of a scramble that probably looked extremely funny from Evan's point of view, Cain was able to wiggle his way inside.

Once that was done, Cain slid over the windowsill and flopped bodily onto the floor below the window. He stared up at the window and breathed for a bit - not because he needed the air, but because it still felt strange to not need to breathe. Even if his body didn't react the same way to exercise as it did when he was human, part of him still wanted to take a break after so much physical exertion. He also felt hungry, which was the instinct that replaced most feelings of exhaustion in vampires. Sleep was essential for mental health, but all physical ailments were treated by drinking more blood.

After another moment, Cain sighed and rolled to his feet. He needed to report to his sire, and after that, hopefully, he could grab something to slake his growing thirst. And then, of course, he would make a beeline for his comfortable bed and luxuriate in blessed solitude.

He walked down the hall, quickly orienting himself. The main receiving room of the keep would be down a flight of stairs, so he hurried to the end of the building, where the stairs were located. He scrambled down, and made his way through several narrow corridors - typically, these were the thralls' tunnels. But Cain made frequent use of them because they were a great way to move around undetected. Most vampires wouldn't be caught dead socializing with lesser beings like thralls, but Cain usually found he had more trouble dealing with other vampires. Thralls were far less of a concern.

As he walked, several of the long-term residents in the keep greeted him. Some of the more valuable thralls (such as the demon-blooded thrall and the thrall who had been offered as a gift from the Fae's winter court) sniffed and turned their noses up at him, but Cain paid them no mind. They were too obsessed with propriety, and Cain saw very little use for such things. Niceties and politics were all too bothersome to worry about, and he used these tunnels because at least here, he had a high enough rank that there would be no one thinking of challenging him. Among the other vampires, there was always at least one of them who would insist on taking him on, trying to usurp his position.

Frankly, if all they wanted was the role of enforcer, Cain would have gladly handed it over. The problem was that the only way to take that position from another vampire was through lethal means. And Cain most assuredly did not want to die, and especially not as part of some idiot vampire's foolish attempt to rise to the top. No one beat the sire. Even if another vampire could have reached Cain's height, the chance of them beating the sire was nonexistent.

After all, if it had been even remotely possible, Cain would have tried years ago.

Finally, after rushing his way through several interesting thrall passageways, Cain was able to find his way to one of the back entrances to the audience chamber of the Lord of the castle. Just beyond the doorway, he could see two men standing over a table, examining what appeared to be a map of some sort. Cain considered drawing nearer, but he knew from experience that neither Crowe nor his sire particularly appreciated being spied on.

With that in mind, Cain cleared his throat, walking into the room as if he'd just arrived. "Lord Sire," he greeted, then glanced at Crowe and allowed his distaste to show on his face. "...Bird."

Crowe's face seemed to darken as he straightened up to his full height. The man was a hulking monster, broad in shoulder and heavily muscled. He was almost twice as broad as their Sire, and his shoulders were wider than Cain's, too. He was a head taller than Cain, with shoulder-length brown hair that seemed to bristle with indignation as though it too had a mind to tell Cain where he could shove his stupid monikers. "Cain," he said, his low baritone filled with irritation. "How did you get in?"

"I flew in," Cain replied glibly. "Why use the doors when you can take the roof?"

Crowe stared at Cain cautiously. While it was rare for vampires to be able to fly, there were still tales of it, and Cain liked to keep an aura of mystery. One of his favorite ways to keep people guessing was to reference abilities that vampires were sometimes rumored to have, even though Cain actually wasn't sure if they had any basis in reality. It was just fun to make Crowe question everything he thought he knew. For such an old vampire, he was really quite easy to fool.

"Cain, I do hope you have a good reason for interrupting our private meeting," Cain's sire, Lord Alaric Solveig, head of the Solveig clan, was gazing at the two of them with a most unamused expression.

"Yes, Lord Sire," Cain answered immediately. "I was able to neutralize the wizard from the western wastes, and retrieve the information he had stolen regarding our castle's armaments."

Here, Cain spared a momentary glance at Crowe. The man hadn't known that part of the reason Cain was gone is because someone on his team had been sloppy enough to trade information for a beverage that could actually produce an effect similar to alcohol. The mage had taken advantage of the intoxicated vampire to pry all sorts of information from him. Based on what Cain had uncovered, it seemed likely that the wizard had intended to sell the information to one of the Fae courts, though he hadn't decided which one. He'd had drafted letters for both courts, but it seemed as though he hadn't sent either letter yet. Which was fortunate, because Cain definitely couldn't have handled Fae enforcers while also suffering from the thrice-blessed blood affliction the wizard had managed to hit him with.

"Very good," Lord Solveig said, in his usual quiet and resonant voice. Something about it grated at Cain, like hearing a knife dragged across a ceramic plate. It was grating, despite its softness. "Anything else to report?"

"He planned to sell the information to one of the Fae courts. It seems he never decided which one, as he still had both letters on his person. Still, it's possible that the Fae are looking to invade, if he knew they would be interested in the information."

"It's also possible that he was merely guessing," Cain's sire pointed out. "It's fairly common knowledge that our lands include a significant portion of disputed territories."

Cain nodded. "Of course, Lord Sire."

"So that's all the wizard had? Information about the castle?" Crowe demanded.

"He also appeared to have prepared for vampire attacks," Cain said. "He had stakes and holy water at the ready." He didn't mention the thrice-blessed blood, because telling Crowe something like that would be suicidal. He couldn't afford to show any weakness in front of the man. And Lord Solveig wouldn't care, because as long as Cain survived to continue working as the clan enforcer, he didn't particularly care what happened to him in the interim.

"So he was expecting a fight," Crowe mused, stroking his goatee with a thoughtful frown.

Cain nodded. "He fought hard."

"But ultimately," said Cain's sire, "you prevailed."

Not really. Not without the help of that witch in the woods. But Cain couldn't talk about that. So, instead, he merely nodded. "That is all, Lord Sire."

"Excellent," Lord Solveig said, reaching out and patting Cain on his head. The gesture was so demeaning that Cain almost reacted. At the last moment, he was able to contain his reaction, forcing himself to hold his breath and taking a slow blink. "You may go," Lord Solveig said.

Finally, Cain felt the tension in his body begin to ease. He'd finally completed his task. It was about time. It was always impossible to feel at ease until he'd been released from the demands of his Sire. Now that he'd finally reported back, he could get some decent rest, and actually awaken feeling refreshed. "Thank you, Lord Sire," Cain said. Then, without addressing Crowe at all, he turned and left the room, slipping into a different thrall passage. He probably would have been wise to stick around and listen to whatever it was that Lord Solveig and Crowe were planning, but Cain was tired of spending time around people, and desperately needed to rest now that he'd finished the task he'd been entrusted with.

Striding purposefully, it took only a few minutes for Cain to find his way through the keep. After making a brief stop at the kitchens, where he was able to retrieve a mug of blood (there was almost always a bit simmering on the stove right around body temperature - one of the advantages of living in a facility that housed a large number of vampires), Cain was able to reach his own private chambers without encountering any unwelcome individuals. Then, once he'd stepped into his room, he did a quick sweep to ensure no one had left nasty surprises for him. Fortunately, the room appeared clean and safe for him to stay in it for the next few hours (or days, if he was lucky). Sipping the blood from the mug he held in one hand, Cain strode around the room, taking all the necessary precautions he'd identified over the years he'd spent here. After draining the last of the blood from the mug, Cain finished locking the door and warding all the entrances (window included) before finally, finally falling into his bed and immediately dropping off to sleep.