Page 8 of Snowed in with the Vampire Prince

That left me with only one option. I needed to leave. And I needed to do it right now. Before the wolves came back for me.

Chapter 5

Pierce

Ihad no idea what to do next.

If the Alpha had claimed this young man, I didn’t have much right getting in the way. Except, based on what the young man had told me, he had never given his consent. Werewolves don’t always consider things like that in the heat of the moment—it’s the animal in them—but it’s still technically illegal for them to turn someone into a wolf against their will, and they know it. I would, according to the letter of the law, be well within my rights as the vampire prince of Seattle, the closest major principality to this place, to forbid this from happening—unless the human consented to it, that is. Whether the wolves would listen was another question entirely. I could, of course, make them listen.

But violence against the leader of a wolf pack would only make new enemies, right when the king couldn’t afford it. When we couldn’t afford it. The witches were vying for control of the supernatural community, and they were every bit as powerful as we were, if not more so. War was imminent, and if I handled this wrong, it might mean more of our people dying as a result.

Yet, this young man hadn’t consented to any of this. Maybe it was because it was my death day, but I empathized with him. No one had gotten my consent, either. Nathaniel hadn’t been able to get my consent, and I didn’t blame him for it for a second, but it didn’t change anything. I was still a creature of darkness, and I’d never asked to be.

I refused to let that same thing happen to the young man.

I would need to protect him without resorting to violence. There was no other choice. I knew I wasn’t going to let the wolves have him. But I didn’t want to start another war either.

The young man marched out of the bathroom, interrupting my thoughts. He was wearing only his trousers, and again, I was struck by his physical beauty. And with the blood washed off—with designer bath products that quite literally cost a king’s ransom, I might add—his scent was even stronger than before.

Clean cotton. Sunlight. Warmth. If those last two don’t quite sound like something that you should be able to smell, my body would have vehemently disagreed with you. Because being next to him was like standing in a pool of warm sunlight, without the bother of worrying how it was going to sap your strength or irritate your eyes. It reminded me of what it was like to be human, watching the world pass by from the steps of the church I was raised in, convincing myself with everything I had inside my chest that I belonged to it, that I was part of the hustle and bustle in a meaningful way.

It was a strangely pleasant memory.

“I’m leaving,” the young man told me, without any kind of preamble, gathering up his bloodstained shirt and yanking it on with brisk movements. “It’s the best thing for me to do.”

I stared at him, the soap bubble of memory popping like it had never been. I felt a moment of sheer incredulity, certain that I must have misheard him. I only realized that he was being totally serious when he picked up his bloodstained winter coat as well.

“It’s freezing out there,” I bit out, appalled, once it became obvious that I hadn’t misheard him. “Literally. You have a human body. You would die before the night was through, even if they didn’t come back for you. By the way, what were you thinking, setting up camp tonight in the middle of a snowstorm?”

“I’d head back to my Jeep, obviously,” the young man replied. He shrugged, though I saw the flash of pain in his eyes, plain as day. He added, “Not that it’s any of your business, but my dad died. I was scattering his ashes. And the weather report didn’t say it was supposed to snow.”

“It’s Washington state,” I replied, shaking my head, marveling at his idiocy. “And you’re in the mountains, and it’s only the first week of March. It could have snowed here at any time.”

He shrugged again, but I could tell he was about to get defensive. “I didn’t want the ashes in my house anymore. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. Thank you for everything, but I’ll be going now. Thanks.”

“You didn’t get along with your dad?” I guessed, stepping into his path and putting my hands on his shoulders to stop him before he could make it to the door behind me. I found myself still trying to make sense of his behavior, even as I tried to stop him from going back out there.

He sighed, leaning into my touch for a split second, a gesture that seemed almost unconscious. Then he stepped away from me, an annoyed expression darting across his face.

“No, my dad was awesome.” He paused, chewing on his lower lip for a moment, as though deciding what to tell me. “But it felt like having a ghost in the house. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was just me… and the ashes. So I figured I’d stop putting it off and get it done, so he could rest. So that we could both rest.”

“So, you traded a ghost for a hungry vampire and a pack of pissed-off werewolves.”

“I guess so,” he agreed, shivering again. His tone offered nothing in terms of how he felt about that trade. Then he added, more triumphantly, “So, they are going to be upset. They are going to try again. That’s what you’re saying.”

Inwardly, I cursed myself. And him. I had fed him a lot of my blood, so he should be drunk off his ass right now, feeling no pain. And causing me no problems.

Except he was clearly way too stubborn for that. Lucky me.

“I’m going back out there,” he told me, his tone flat and hard, like he was trying to be tough. He even glared at me, trying to stare me down.

I didn’t understand him one bit. Most humans would have been cowering under a blanket in his shoes, right? My intrigue ratcheted up a notch.

“Over my dead body,” I growled, but it was halfhearted.

Still, I couldn’t help glancing at the front door again. Surely the wolves would have noticed that the young man wasn’t in their company. That he hadn’t transformed under the light of the moon. That he wasn’t running with them right now.

“No,” the young man said, ducking out of my grasp and heading right for the door. “They aren’t coming here. I’m going to get to my Jeep, and then I’m going to leave. If they do come back for me, it’ll just be me they find.”

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