Blood of a Promise: A Paranormal Witch Romance (Kings of Sterling Book 1)

  Blood

  of a Promise

  Kings of Sterling

  Leeah Taylor

  BLOOD OF PROMISE

  Copyright © 2019 Leeah Taylor.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incident are the product of imagination, or used in a fictionalized manner. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Front cover image by Anne Lightwood.

  Editing by Theresa Halvorsen

  All rights reserved.

  Kings of Sterling Series

  Blood of a Promise

  Blood of my Enemy novella

  Blood of Night

  Upcoming 2020 Releases

  Blood of an Alpha

  Blood of Frost

  Blood of the Pack novella

  Blood of Wolves

  Blood of Marquis

  Blood of my Blood

  Royal Vampyr Duet

  Royal Mates

  Royal Fates

  Dedication

  This book, and the series, is dedicated to the man that raised me. Losing him, while still devastating today, lit a fire in me to start and finish this series. To get my butt in a chair and get it done. My dad was always going and doing. If he wanted something done, he got to doing it.

  So, daddy, these books- all of them- are for you. I love and miss you!

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Lucien|1

  Chelsea |2

  Chelsea |3

  Lucien |4

  Chelsea |5

  Lucien |6

  Lucien |7

  Chelsea |8

  Chelsea |9

  Lucien |10

  Chelsea |11

  Chelsea |12

  Lucien |13

  Chelsea |14

  Chelsea |15

  Lucien |16

  Chelsea |17

  Lucien |18

  Chelsea |19

  Chelsea |20

  Lucien |21

  Chelsea |22

  Lucien |23

  Chelsea |24

  Chelsea |25

  Chelsea |26

  Lucien |27

  Chelsea |28

  Lucien |29

  Chelsea |30

  Thank you for reading!

  Ramsey|1

  Acknowledgements

  Lucien|1

  Light-hearted chatter warmed through Lucien Frost as the streets of Sterling came to life and day turned to night. The Riverfront lit up with big bulb white lights strung between the streetlights and the usually busy street transformed into a fairytale Winter wonderland.

  Only the best for Sterling.

  Champagne glasses clinked together as he waded through ball gowns and tuxedos. Scanning the water, the Falls silhouetted in the distance, he welcomed the cool fall breeze that swept over it. Jackets and shawls pulled tighter in the crowd to ward off the cold while he itched to get out of his, loosen his tie. Cool off.

  He made his way up to the bar next to the stage, flashing a standard smile and a nod at the men and women gathered there. Drinks in their hands and blissfully ignorant to all the secrets weaving through their perfect little city. To the danger that lurked right beside them. He leaned over the bar, smirking, and shaking his head.

  “It looks like an upscale costume party,” Ollie teased, pouring a bourbon and pushing the shot glass to him.

  He’d never hear of it, and Lucien wasn’t about to say it, but a tuxedo suited his usually relaxed baby brother. It certainly brought out the family resemblance. Dark hair, charm and a tux.

  Must be a Frost.

  Now if only he’d roll his damn sleeves down and put the jacket on. Showing off the splashes of ink up his arms was more important.

  Lucien lifted the shot glass with a smirk. Not like a tux ever dampened Ollie’s luck with the ladies or gents. They still drooled and batted their eyes at him. Suppose it had more to do with his skill in the bedroom, or that was the reputation following him through Sterling.

  “I hate this event.” Ollie grumbled, pouring a shot for himself.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  “Trust me, we all know how much you despise the Winter Solstice.” Lucien glanced at him. “Nobody said you had to come.”

  “Damien already ditched. Wasn’t about to abandon you too.”

  With Ollie manning the bar, he'd not make a scene. Damien was a whole other animal. One snide comment from a witch and at least one poor bastard was leaving the event with a bloodied lip. He'd never hear the end of it, not to mention all the bureaucratic nonsense that followed his brother like a shadow. Smooth over one outburst or the next. He did what he could. Damien didn’t deserve that much.

  “I assume our petulant brother went hunting?”

  Ollie pointed to the sky. “Is it the full moon?”

  Lucien looked up to take it in. It seemed fuller than usual, casting a bright and brilliant glow over the Riverfront. A whisper of a memory ached down in his bones.

  Pity any wolf that risked getting caught near the barrier tonight. They knew better than to get close or at least they’re supposed to. He didn’t monitor Damien’s favorite pastime, but he promised he gave them a warning shot. It was easier to trust his word than babysit him like a child.

  He took a sip of his drink, appreciating the smooth warmth that slid passed the back of his throat down into his belly.

  “Well, I’d much rather he terrorizes the wolves than us or Sterling.”

  “He has his good days.” Ollie filled another shot of whiskey and swallowed it back with a hiss.

  Lucien smirked. “Not nearly enough of them.”

  His foul mood got the best of him these days. Better he kept his distance while stuck in his own head and haunted by his demons. Damn well deserved to be miserable.

  Let him wallow in all his fuckups.

  “Juliette should be here.” He blurted it out with no idea why he brought her up, but it was true.

  A part of their family was missing, and time didn’t heal all wounds. It barely lessened the chasm her absence created. It only served as a painful reminder.

  Ollie said nothing. The corner of his lips pulled down. Grief flashed in his expression.

  Lucien cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s whatever.” Ollie dismissed it in his way by filling another shot glass to the rim with whiskey. He put it back and an inspired look flashed in his eyes. “You see the Regent tonight?”

  He pointed across the street.

  Don’t do it. Don’t look.

  Lucien lifted his eyes to the other side of the street and knew as he took her in, mouth running dry, it was a mistake.

  Damn it!

  He swallowed when striking green eyes locked with his. She was exquisite in a floor length black ball gown that hugged her curves. It sparkled magnificently, like stars twinkling in the sky, under the lights strung up above her head. A light pink flush crept into her cheeks, making her more beautiful.

  I am so fucked.

  Chelsea Greaves was too beautiful, inside and out, to never notice. It was decades spent infatuated by Juliette Marquis that held hostage to his heart and kept him distracted. But now the haze had lifted, and he was seeing her for the first time. She spent decades in his family as nothing more than a girl with a mean crush and he’s watched her grow into a stunning and brilliant woman. Powerful in her own right.

  Don’t do it.

  The consequences if he crossed the street to her were steep. It wasn’t breaking the laws. Dancing.
It wouldn’t be the first time he even asked her. But it was the first time asking her to dance and feeling like she could be his whole world. If he let her.

  She bit down on her bottom lip, battle raging in her gaze as she pulled her sheer black shawl tighter around her shoulders.

  Don’t look at me like that, Gorgeous.

  Ollie chuckled behind him. “You’re welcome.”

  “Screw off.”

  “How long’s it been since you actually had a real conversation with her? Like really talked to her beyond Council stuff?”

  Lucien downed the rest of his drink. “Years.”

  “Ten years?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Well,” Ollie laughed. “That girl has had eyes for you for the better part of fifty years. About time you noticed her back.”

  “I’m noticing her and that’s the problem.”

  Gorgeous green eyes pierced through him, luring him away from the right thing to do.

  God, I want her, and I won’t be sated until I have her.

  “Fucking hell, Ollie.” He pushed off from the bar as his brother’s laugh followed him through the crowd.

  I shouldn’t do this.

  A small smile crept up on her lips as he closed the distance between them and stepped up on the curb. She bowed her head slightly, eyes shifting in his direction as he stilled beside her.

  “Mr. Frost.”

  “Madame Regent.”

  Amusement danced in her eyes as she looked him over. “As always, you’ve outdone yourself. Do you try to beat out the previous years budget for every event?”

  “Not if I can help it.” He cleared his throat. “You look stunning tonight, Chelsea.”

  Crimson painted up her neck into her cheeks.

  “Surprised you noticed.”

  Ouch.

  “I’ve always noticed you. I’ve just never seen how exquisite you are until tonight.”

  “Lucien.” She blew out a breath meeting his gaze.

  “Don’t do something we’ll both regret.”

  I wouldn’t regret it.

  He itched to reach for her. Tuck back the golden strands that had fallen in her eyes. Get lost in the bright green warmth.

  “I don’t do regrets.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  The words stung. Cut through him like hot knives driving deep in his chest.

  “You’re right.” He nodded. “I have one regret.”

  And it haunted him. Every single day.

  Chelsea sighed. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.”

  “It entirely was.”

  Tonight wasn’t about regrets. Or the past. Both belonged buried deep.

  He offered his hand to her. “Dance with me.”

  She stared at it as if whatever decision she made would determine her future. If only it was that simple.

  “Lucien…”

  “Hardly crossing the line.”

  “The laws—"

  “Have nothing against dancing. It’s harmless.”

  She cracked a smile, eyes lit up, and she slipped her hand into his.

  “Hardly harmless.”

  He chuckled. “You’re probably right.”

  Eyes of every witch in the Riverfront followed him off the curb. Watching every touch as he led her out into the street amid dozens of other couples dancing.

  We aren’t a couple.

  He slid an arm around her waist, took her hand into his and the gasps and whispers echoed between his ears when he pulled her flush to his chest. He didn’t give a damn.

  Witches, vampires and humans no longer existed in the space around them. Entirely consumed by her. The only person who mattered. He wanted her. Heart, body and soul, Lucien wanted what he’d been denying himself.

  Because he always noticed her but tonight, he saw everything he ever wanted.

  “Everybody is watching.” She whispered.

  “Well, you’re just so beautiful.”

  A smirk lit up her face. “People will talk.”

  “About what?” He smirked. “A King of Sterling and its Regent sharing a dance? Are the witches that bored?”

  “Louisa is watching.”

  Good. Sterling’s Oversight and Elder can watch all she wants. What was she going to do? Not a damn thing.

  “Let her.” He hooked a finger under her chin for one more greedy glimpse at her stunning beauty. “We’re just dancing.”

  She relaxed into his lead and he couldn’t resist the need to inhale her. Sweet jasmine engulfed him.

  I’m so screwed.

  “You’ve avoided me for ten years.”

  He faltered slightly. “I know. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention.”

  Not entirely.

  “I’ve avoided you too. Even after all this time it still hurts, ya know?”

  He sighed. “I know.”

  “Do you hear from her?”

  “No, not a word.”

  If she’d just call. Email. Text. Something so he knew she was okay. Safe. But no contact meant keeping him and Ollie safe. Damien’s wrath knew very little bounds when it came to Juliette.

  She cleared her throat and he saw the question before the words left her mouth when she lifted her eyes.

  “Do you still love her?”

  He thought about it before nodding. “I’ll always love her. She’s family but I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

  “It’s not.”

  It was pleading in the way she searched him for the answer. Fifty years she pined for him as he did for Juliette. Never looking quite satisfied with any other man on her arm. And there were other men, but none never lasted long.

  “No, not like that. Not anymore. It was never my place to feel that way about her.”

  It was Damien’s, and he fucked that up royally.

  Chelsea tucked her head under his chin, and he held her a bit closer.

  “Ever wish you were somebody else? Living a different life?” She whispered.

  “All the time.”

  The damn witch laws. Archaic and ridiculous. Dictating who can love who. Death to those they deemed loved wrong.

  God, right now my cock doesn’t really care.

  “All we’ll ever get is a dance, Lucien.”

  “Is it?”

  Her head fell back, and it would be too easy to swallow up the little bit of space to claim her lips. Dark crimson never looked so delicious.

  “You deserve so much better,” He dragged his knuckle down her cheek. “Then this world. Our world.”

  “I just want the chance to want what I want.”

  “So do I.”

  “You can have what you want.”

  He shook his head. “Not this time.”

  “If I was as brave as my mother, this conversation would go differently.”

  “Gorgeous she’d be damn proud of the woman you’ve become. You’re strong and I can say with certainty that your mother would say you can have whatever you want. God knows she did.”

  And it got her killed. He fought to keep the memories trying to creep in his thoughts at bay.

  The glassy shine in her eyes conflicted with the smile spread over her lips. “You were her favorite. Did you know that?”

  He smirked. “I did know that.”

  “Keep your eye on the one in the suit, Chelsea. If you’re going to give your heart away, might as well be the good-looking one.” She giggled. “The diplomatic peacekeeper. Even George liked you and that’s saying a lot.”

  Which was why he had to walk away from this stunning angel. Her mother and stepfather may have approved back then but now, after everything, keeping her safe was all the priority. It had to be. He couldn’t risk seeing Chelsea punished as harshly as her mother was just because he was selfish.

  The song ended too soon. He wasn’t ready to let her go. Their next dance already felt too far. Pulling away, he kissed the back of her hand. The hushed gasps audible even with the upbeat song blasting off the stage


  “Until our next dance, Madame Regent.”

  He needed distance. This was a bad idea. Now he wanted her even more. Wanted to give her the world denied to her because of the laws.

  “Lucien…”

  When he turned to look at her, taking her in one last time, he was ready to go to his knees for her.

  “Yes, Chelsea.”

  “Would it be worth it?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Having whatever I want?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “Would you protect me if they tried to take what I want away?”

  “Till my dying breath, Gorgeous.” He meant every word. “Good night, Chelsea.”

  She nodded. “Good night, Lucien.”

  He made his way back through the crowd. Resisting the urge to go back to her. He ignored any sense in his head and let his heart rule. It would only lead to trouble.

  Pushing his way into Juleps, the liquor flowed just as freely inside. The bar across the room was swamped and, if he cared enough, he’d get Ollie. But he didn’t care enough. Not if it meant seeing her again because he only had so much resolve. Lucien headed upstairs to the office.

  He needed to breathe. He needed a stiff drink.

  Once inside the office, the music and voices a dull nuisance with the door closed, he finally sucked in a breath.

  “The hell am I thinking?” He stalked to the mini bar behind his desk. “I will kill Oliver for encouraging that mess.”

  He was supposed to be the rational brother, but there wasn’t one ounce of rational thought in his head out there. What about seeing her tonight made all of it go out the window? If, by some miracle, he and Chelsea got together, the consequences were steep. Death a very real possibility.

  I can’t risk her life just because I feel something for her.

  Downing the first drink he set the glass down, loosened his tie and filled it again. Ready for the night to be over so he could go home. The door behind him opened, and he pinched the spot between his eyes. All his patience tapped for the night.

  “Whatever it is, go find Ollie.” He ordered.

  Practically his bar anyway. Let him handle it.

  “Do you promise?”

  He twisted around and stopped on those gorgeous green eyes.

  “Chelsea? What are you doing?”