The Vampire King's Mate by T. S. Ryder

Author:T. S. Ryder [Ryder, T. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four: Bjorn

Bjorn mentally ordered his nanite armor to retreat. It melted off him, forming a pool of material as soft as silk and stronger than titanium at his feet. His rival was yanking at his own heavy, bulky armor. The prince watched every movement, his knife at the ready.

It was forbidden to kill on the grounds of the holy shrine, but that didn't mean they couldn't spill a little blood. And there seemed to be no other way to decide who would claim the queen's rose.

"No, don't fight," Cheryl said, her hands fluttering in the air as she looked between them. "You can both have me at the same time, I don't mind."

Both men ignored her, although Bjorn had to work to keep his surprise off his face. For such a sweet, naive-looking woman, his Cheryl seemed to know what she wanted sexually. If only she could actually say that it was what she wanted, Bjorn might consider it. Women were scarce among the Temadian people, as sons were far more common than daughters due to the nature of genetic manipulations to produce pureblooded Temadians. It was common for one woman to have a harem of men. He himself had five fathers, and each one worshiped the ground his mother walked on.

The queen, however, had only one king and it would be him. If she desired more than one man, they would have to discuss lovers after they were wed.

But it would not be Maskin.

With a roar, the warrior-slave leaped forward, holding his knife in his clenched hand. He was quicker than Bjorn anticipated. The prince ducked but still received a blow to his skull. With a flick of the wrist, Maskin neatly cut into his scalp. It stung and hot blood began pouring instantly. Bjorn took advantage of his opponent's closeness to drive two knuckles into his sternum. Maskin stumbled back, gasping for breath. His eyes burned.

"Stop!" Cheryl cried.

They leaped at each other again. Bjorn moved quickly, jabbing stiff fingers into various nerve bundles. Maskin's left arm dropped, useless, the knife sliding from his hand. With a laugh, Bjorn sliced at his chest. His rival punched him hard in the face with his other hand.

"Stop it! Stop!"

Both Maskin and Bjorn punched at each other as Cheryl darted between them. Two ham-sized fists caught her in the abdomen and back. She gasped, then stood choking on air.

"No!"

Both prince and warrior-slave shouted at the same time. Bjorn dropped his knife and caught the human as she swayed. His heart stopped and he couldn't breathe. The queen pulled in a single gasp as her skin turned ashen. He turned and ran, ignoring the blood that continued to pour down his scalp. Maskin caught him quickly and pulled Cheryl from his arms.

"What are you doing?" Bjorn cried as he laid her on the ground.

"She is suffering a diaphragm spasm," Maskin replied, checking her pulse. "She needs to have room to get her breath back."

Bjorn dropped to his knees and clung to Cheryl's hand.

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