Page 1 of Queen of Vampire Hearts

I

The Realm of Tír nAill.

The Unseelie Court.

I NEEDED SOMETHING TO RELIEVE THIS MONOTONY,something to draw my interest, anything at this point to fill this hole inside me.Gods, I sounded so pathetic. I hated this part of me. Well, live for ten thousand fucking years, and tell me you don’t get fuckingbored. By then, you’ve seen it all, done it all, fucked it all. And given that I was amid a massive immortal orgy, that was saying something.

To my left, three nymphs serviced a massive ogre. To my right, two lycans filled a gorgon as she screamed in ecstasy. Ambrosia, a potent fermented alcohol for immortals, flowed as every sensual delight imaginable was at my disposal, just waiting. But I couldn’t summon even the slightest interest in any of them. I didn’t quirk a brow at the sight of the blindfolded gorgon being bent over by two wolf-shifters. Even her snakes had little blindfolds to keep from turning her partners to stone.

My eyes glazed over when faced with all these hedonistic spectacles. Maybe Tir nAill wasn’t the right choice for me. I needed a different realm to draw my eye, something moreexciting.

Gods, I’ve only been here for a couple of hours, and already I’m over this place.

Fuck. The boredom was worse than normal, almost like a rut. Could an immortal get stuck in a rut? I was tired of doing the same thing over and over again, but the party should have worked. I was in another realm at an erotic immortal ball. It had my name all over it, but there I was, and I was fucking bored.

Something was wrong. It had to be. Ten thousand years of using sex to distract couldn’t just suddenly stop working, could it? I’d dressed for the occasion, only a pair of leather pants and boots on, leaving my chest bare. One tug at the ties on my pants, and I would be ready to participate in any of the assorted delights. But not even a twitch of interest down south.

Fuck. I came to the Fae realm because I needed to get away from Romania. There were too many vampire sycophants trying to court my favor. Plus, the cold, obsidian walls of my castle made me weary.Alone.Like always. There had to be another realm out there that could stir my interests, if only it were this one. I needed something to distract from my own thoughts, my own company. Without distraction, I was only left with self-reflection, which was a fucking bad idea for me.

Tír nAill, the home of the Fae, was a magical realm only accessible through specific rifts—tears in reality—from the mortal plane. There were millions of host realms with thousands of species, and over time, they had leaked into the mortal realm. Though they remained hidden from humanity, all the creatures and monsters that were reduced to legend and myth were real, and roughly sixty percent of them were represented at this erotic ball. Immortality was nothing more than a constant battle against eternal boredom. That’s something they didn’t tell you in the stories. Immortality, the ability to live forever, immune to sickness and able to regenerate from all but the most fatal of injuries, was a curse. At least to me.

A dryad sidled up next to me. Her transparent green dress left absolutely nothing to the imagination, her body supple in all the ways a female should be. “Looking to play?” She boldly reached for my cock, frowning when her touch did nothing to rouse me.

I forced a chuckle at her presumptive grab and pulled her hand away. “Seems I need someone more gorgeous than you to make my shaft stir.”

My head turned with the resounding slap she delivered, my lip splitting slightly from the force. My healing kicked in almost immediately, leaving only a dot of my own blood on my lip. The older the immortal, the faster the regeneration. At ten thousand, most of my wounds healed the minute they formed. Her steps sounded in the sudden silence as she stormed away from me.

The entire room paused with bated breath, waiting to see my reaction. I wasreallynot in the mood for a fight. I flashed a wicked smile and shrugged at the audience. They saw I was not going to pursue the matter and dismissed me, turning back to their partners. Free of their gaze, I let my smile fade and swiped a large goblet of blood-laced ambrosia from a passing tray. It bobbed on its way through the event without a waiter, hovering and moving around on its own. I tossed it back, slamming the empty glass down on another table. I strode through the room by rote, with no intended destination. Not even the potent alcohol and the welcome taste of blood could infringe on my disinterest.

When I’d grown bored with sexual delights in the past, though admittedly never to this extent, I rallied my vampires into a war. When it wasn’t sex for me, it was war. So around and around I went, from war to sex and sex to war, repeatedly for ten thousand years. I was seeking anything to pull me out of this fog.Desperate to forget the lack I felt, the loneliness that pursued me tirelessly, I was looking for anything to distract.

No, I couldn’t go there. I forced myself to think about war and forget the yawning emptiness inside.I envisioned the bloodlust overcoming me on the battlefield. My opponents changed as I imagined the various species of immortals that had been pitted against my army. The list of immortal opponents, each with their own kings and queens, their own armies, was endless. A warrior could go mad listing them all. Still, I attempted to consider each one.

Lycans? No, we still had that peace treaty after that last skirmish, and it had lasted over a thousand years at last count. Lycans were wolf shifters, touched by the god Odin. They were formidable adversaries, able to shift into massive wolves at will. For ten years, the vampire and lycan war was a suitable distraction. It came to a rather sudden end when I beheaded the King of the Lycans, installing his much more level-headed son, Erik Wulfric, on the throne. The truce was tenuous and, with just a spark, could turn into another all-out war, but I actuallylikedErik, even considering him to be a friend. So, the lycans were out.

There were hundreds of different species of immortals to choose from and no shortage of enemies. I just needed to pick the right opponent. I glanced around at the other species present for inspiration and pondered the possibilities.

The Fae were out of the question. Fae were, to put it mildly, fucking insane. They were a strictly hierarchical society.Faewas more of a general classification, which included everything from faeries to sprites, banshees, and brownies. The Fae were divided into dark and light, Unseelie and Seelie. Their ruling class were the faeries and their Queen Titania. Titania and I had…a history. But that was before she met Oberon. If I even thought about rallying my armies against the Fae, Oberon would assume I was attempting to reclaim Titania. Oberon would unleash a jealous rage that would make even me pause. As a Dark Faerie, Oberon’s skin emitted a deadly poison, and his gossamer wings would turn black when enraged. I bit back a sigh. You would think having fucked Titania and discarded her, Oberon would get the message that I wasnotinterested. I didn’t go back for seconds,ever.Seconds usually turned into them wanting a commitment, something I’dneverbeen interested in.

I sensed Titania as she approached. In the world of immortals, you must always be prepared for an attack from any corner, something I’d always resented. Why couldn’t we just get along?I supposed that was a bit fucking rich since I was planning a war in my head, but I never said I was perfect.

Titania rested her hand on my arm, drawing my full attention as she said, “Nothing to interest your varied tastes, Lucien?”

Titania topped out at just over five and a half feet and was tall for a full-blooded Light Faerie. Oberon was just over six feet, and it was usual for Dark Faeries to tower over their light counterparts. Their bright, almost glowing, silver eyes and gossamer wings easily distinguish them from other immortals. Their wings appeared delicate as if a single breath could tear them but were deceptively strong and capable of cutting the throat of an enemy. Like everything regarding the Fae, appearances deceive. You took things at face value at your own peril. When I first met Titania, I asked her about the human’s erroneous interpretation of faeries. Titania had furiously muttered, “If I ever get my hands on that Disney fucker, I will show him just what a faerie really looks like.”

“Nothing yet, love,” I said. “Give it time.”

Her dark eyebrows rose, knowing I usually would have burned through several partners by now. That was the thing that fucking sucked about people knowing you for more than a century. They could tell when you were just going through the motions.

Why couldn’t I be attracted to Titania? She was gorgeous, with dark hair and silver eyes. She haunted many males’ dreams, but I hadn’t thought of her that way in years. Plus, her new husband barely let me breathe in the same direction as her.

“Your male approaches, no doubt enraged at you for speaking to me in such a setting,” I said, gesturing toward the ongoing orgy, then to the furious Fae king storming toward us.

Titania smothered a smile, winking at me. “I’ll admit to using you, Lucien. I enjoy Oberon’s jealousy too much.”

Oberon’s eyes were dark with rage, his tall frame stomping towards them, the veins in his wings beginning to turn black. Weaker immortals would have cowered at the sight. I sighed, glancing away from the approaching opponent as if he was beneath my notice. Which, in all honesty, he was. Age meant strength in our world, and I was almost twice his.

“My love!” Titania called out, and Oberon’s look of murderous intent morphed to one of tenderness at the sight of his queen. Titania was the heiress of the Light Fae and Oberon, the heir to the Dark. Their arranged marriage united the two courts under a single banner. Yet the arrangement morphed into a love match, though it was touch and go there for a while. Most of which had a little more to do with me than I was willing to admit.

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