Bite Me Royal... (Mature Vampire Romance 18+)

Chapter One

Dedicated to wildflowershining

THIS BOOK HAS UNDERGONE SOME MAJOR EDITING SO YOU MAY NOTICE THAT SOME COMMENTS DON'T ALIGN WITH THE CHAPTERS. BARE WITH ME, KINDLY.

DO NOT COPY OR PRINT ANY CONTENT WITHIN THIS BOOK!

For better comprehension, the story happens in Egypt. The castle of Akhila kingdom possesses a library because Amir and the royal family are vampires, and have lived longer, and hence, have accessed books, unlike the other tribes and kingdoms surrounding Akhila. Only a handful of persons in Akhila can read actual words. The rest depend on hieroglyphics written on stone tablets and papyrus scrolls..

With that being said, I wish you a happy reading...

Amir's P.O.V

My feet leave behind a trail of footprints upon the scorching yet gleaming sand as the rays of the sun beat down upon my fatigued body with a vengeance. I should be burnt out of existence from the beams as I wear not my daylight ring. But I do not, surprisingly. From a distance, a mighty distance, my eyes trace out the dark silhouette of a woman, her hairs swaying with the monsoon winds of the desert.

"Come, come to me, Amir."

With the large distance that separates she from I, I should not have made out those words. And yet, I do. My ears pick each syllable of every word, as she conveys her message. It is more like a fleeting whisper that goes on and on -akin to an echo in a barren cave. So, I drag my lead-heavy feet in her direction -occasionally stumbling, occasionally losing my balance and toppling.

The more I tread, the further she appears to be. At one point, I stumble disgracefully to my fall. My knees kiss the sandy earth, they make contact with sharp rocks that scrape and pierce into the skin of my left kneecap. I groan, I grunt. My arm stretches out in her direction -silently pleading for grace. Beads of perspiration trickle down my forehead as a shadow obscures me from the merciless illuminations of the sun.

"Who...who should you be?"

She keeps silent, stares down upon me. I can hardly make out her face.

"You appear in my slumbers and yet I know you not."
"Soon..." are her only words.

And her figure dissipates, fades away right before my eyes like a thick cloud of blackly smoke.

"My prince. My prince, it is time you wake."

From a distance, my ears paint out the baritone of Zyir -my second in command, as well as the closest thing to an ally I shall ever know. A lad who is akin to a brother even in the absence of a blood bond.

I stir in my death bed and after a moment of struggle, I take in one deep breath of the fresh life. Yes, I succumb to death at certain hours of the day and resurrect upon nightfall. I am well capable of treading under the combusting beams of the sun ever since the sorcerers in my father's kingdom were mandated with the responsibility of creating daylight rings -a task they carried out with magnificence, exuding nothing short of perfection.

The peculiar sounds of the cold night seem to amplify by the minute. The hooting of owls and the chirping of crickets, the rustling of grass and dried leaves, the continuous flow of liquid sap up and down the trunks of tall palm trees that surround our camp site, the chatting, bickering and cackling of my men outside the tent in which I lay -all these sounds seem to be working in sync, in holy unison. And the hunger. The intense need to sate my animalistic appetite. Ah, immortality comes with its demerits. Everything does. Blessed curse.

"My prince, shalt I hunt for you this eve or shalt you drink from my veins?" Zyir questions.

The lad has full knowledge of just how crazed from hunger my kind gets -especially after having resurrected. It is an impulse that some of us have power to subdue. But not always, no. Oh, but almost-tangible is the thrumming of his heart, the rushing of blood down his venations, the pulsating of the pulse sat on the hollow of his neck.

"I shalt feed from you, Zyir," I reply in a monotone.

It is more of a command than a statement, one that he complies with without question. Man stretches out his right arm before my eyes so that his wrist is only inches from my mouth. Yes, I feel it. The blackening of the sclera of my eyes, the darkly and prominent venations that litter upon my eye sockets, the fangs that elongate past my lower lip.

And I puncture into the tender skin of his wrist. My tongue laps at the warm scarlet. My eyes flutter shut. The redness dribbles down one corner of my mouth. Pure bliss I should say. Once I am certain I have drained enough, I lick my lips clean, rise from the mat, make my way towards the exit of the tent.

"Should you be alright, Zyir?" I speak, now looking back upon the lad.
"Yes, my prince. I should."

I give a curt nod and proceed past the drapery that dangles by the exit -into the coolness of nightfall. Only Zyir, my parents, and my twin sister have knowledge of the fact that vampires do -in fact- roam the earth, seeing as all but Zyir have been gifted with this curse-like blessing.

Now, back to the matter at hand. I tread over to the cliff -by the very edge of the mountain- whilst most of my men continue to laugh merrily at this or banter animatedly about that. Tonight, we plan on paying a visit to our neighboring kingdom; the Raiz Kingdom. Why so? Because apparently, they have uncovered an old copper mining site within their lands and I am in need of more material to fashion ammunition.

If the king of Raiz won't be so generous as to accept our negotiations -fifty thousand pounds of gold, fifty thousand pounds of iron, and thirty horses carrying only the best medicinal and fragranced oils my land can offer in exchange for the copper mines- then I shall have to take the site by coercion. Blood-filled coercion. Simple, really.

"My prince, we ought to be making entry into Raiz Kingdom by now. All the men are well rested, filled and ready for battle incase the negotiations fall sour. What should you decide?" Zyir inquires from behind me.

I remain mute for a moment, deeply contemplate, harshly ponder. I clear my throat, finally speak.

"Let us be on our way then. Order the men to mount their horses. We do not have all night," my tone is cool, calm even.
"Yes, my prince," he replies in a manner tranquil, turns to face upon the rest and continues, "mount your mares and stallions, get ready to move. Now!"

My arms remain folded behind my back as I keenly observe the kingdom from my aerial view. With my hyper acute sense of sight, I am able to see through the heaviness of the black night clearly as I would day.

Therefore, I take precious time to scrutinize the spectrum of hues that illuminate Raiz Kingdom, the sellers who yell their prices, the younger females bunched up together making small talk and spreading gossip, even the elderly males who sip wine from large communal pots through long thin straws.

The night is still so fresh and the sooner I get these negotiations over and done with, the better for all. Oh King Jafari, you had better make the right choices this eve. Lest you lose all what you have built in over the last decade all in name of naivety...

Hey guys. How do you like the chapter so far? What do you think of the prince? What do you think of Zyir? Don't forget to vote as well as comment on the chapter ❤️❤️