Page 3 of French Quarter Heiress

Looks like the boys agree.

The Crescent City Wolves are on the rise, and nothing – not even the mighty Delacroix clan – is going to stand in our way.

2

ELISE

Ipace the lavish sitting room of our family's estate, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. The news of the audacious attack on the Blue Moon has left me seething with rage. How dare those filthy mongrels lay a hand on what belongs to the Delacroix clan?

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. "Enter," I command, my voice cold and sharp.

My father's right-hand man, Antoine, steps into the room, his head bowed in deference. "Mademoiselle Elise, your father requests your presence."

I nod curtly, dismissing him with a wave of my hand. I take a moment to compose myself, smoothing the lines of my slip and checking my reflection in the ornate mirror above the fireplace. I must be the picture of poise and control, even as the fury burns within me.

I make my way to my father's study, the click of my heels echoing through the grand hallways of our estate. I knock twice, waiting for his permission to enter.

"Come in," comes his deep, commanding voice.

I step inside, closing the door behind me. My father sits behind his massive oak desk, his face etched with lines of anger and frustration. "Elise," he greets me, his tone clipped as he gets right to the point. "The wolves hit the Blue Moon? Care to explain?"

"Yes, Father," I reply, my own voice tight with barely contained rage. "The wolves have gone too far this time. We cannot let this insult stand."

Don Victor nods, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "I couldn't agree more. This is an outrage, a direct challenge to our family's power and authority. This is too far. The wolves are here to serve. If they rise up, the entire order will be upset. You understand, do you not? My blood. They must be taught a lesson they will not soon forget."

I step forward, my chin held high. "Father, I take full responsibility for this breach in our security. I should have anticipated their boldness and taken stronger measures to protect our interests."

He rises from his chair, coming around the desk to stand before me. "No, Elise. The fault is not yours alone. We have all grown complacent, too secure in our position at the top of the food chain. But no more."

He reaches into his desk drawer and withdraws a beautifully crafted pistol, the metal gleaming in the lamplight. "I want you to lead the charge against the wolves, Elise. Show them the true might of the Delacroix clan."

I take the pistol from his hand, feeling the weight of it in my palm. "I won't let you down, Father. I will make them pay for their insolence, and for the pain they have caused our family, and the Great Order."

Father places a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. "Your mother would be proud of you, Elise. She had the same fierce spirit, the same unwavering determination. The filthy mutts may have taken her from us, but we will have our revenge."

I nod, my eyes burning with unshed tears. "For Mother, and for the honor of our family."

My father's voice grows cold, his gaze distant. "The werewolves are an existential horror, a blight upon this earth. It is our sacred duty to keep them in line. They serve us. Remind them."

“Of course, Father. I will make them pay.” I turn to leave, the pistol clutched tightly in my hand. "I will not fail you, Father. The wolves will rue the day they crossed the Delacroix clan."

As I exit the study, my mind is already racing with plans and strategies. I will be cold, calculated, and deadly in my preparations. The canines will learn the true meaning of fear. Nobody attacks the Delacroix.

It is a simple truth, father says, that every great civilization throughout history has been one where vampires held the reins of power. Those that lacked our guiding hand, our strength, and our wisdom inevitably fell into ruin and decay.

It is the way of things, as inviolable as the rising of the sun and the waxing of the moon. We are the apex predators, the rulers of the night, and it is our duty and our right to hold dominion over the lesser creatures that scurry about in the shadows.

As I sit in my chambers, contemplating the challenge that the wolves present to our supremacy, I feel a familiar hunger stirring within me and summon one of my favored vassals, a strapping young man with a strong heart and rich, vibrant blood. He is already shirtless, in perfect health. Fed on the finest food, pampered and kept shirtless, his perfect muscles bulging and waiting.

He enters my room with a bow, his eyes downcast in a show of proper submission. I beckon him closer, and he kneels before me, tilting his head to the side to expose the tanned column of his throat and I sink my fangs into his flesh, a rush of exquisite pleasure flooding through me as his life essence flows into my mouth. I drink deeply, savoring the heady flavor, the intoxicating warmth of it.

He moans softly, lost in the blissful agony of my embrace.

I release him as his heartbeat begins to slow, licking the last traces of blood from my lips. He slumps to the floor, dazed and weakened, but I pay him no further attention. I have more pressing matters to attend to.

"Thank you, my Princess," he breathes, covering his neck with a shaking hand. I nod absently, already turning my attention to the maps and documents spread out on my desk.

We keep our herd well-fed and healthy, ensuring a constant supply of the finest blood. I cannot afford any distractions or weaknesses, not now when our very way of life is under threat from the loathsome wolves.

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