Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Crimson Creek was nothing more than a black space against the rolling, barren gray hills. Blood root covered everything–every building, every sidewalk, every window and roof. The train station had blackened, oily vines growing up the sides of its awning. It had been the first time I'd seen blood root grow like vines instead of the dry, moss-like substance that was chalky and ashen. Purple flowers were budding along the vines; some of them bloomed enough to see the blood red petals inside.

I commanded my men to not touch anything as we walked through the village. Oliver was walking ahead of us like he owned the place, kicking a path through the blood root. I realized he'd just been here, after all. He'd spent nearly a month in Crimson Creek while Lena and I were in the vampire realm. He'd come through the portal that glimmered on the horizon as we turned out of the village and walked along the dirt road leading to Gideon's property.

Gideon's house was covered in blood root. The black infection seemed to suffocate the house, closing it off from the outside world completely. I exhaled in annoyance as Oliver kicked open the front door, yelling out for Alma, announcing he was “home."

But I broke into a run, weapons drawn, as a struggle ensued inside. The wolves stayed back, guarding the front door as John, Colton, and I stepped inside. Oliver was flat on his back, his fist raised to protect his face as Gideon delivered blow after blow to Oliver's torso.

“Gideon," I rasped, my eyes widening as he looked up at me. “It's us–Xander, and Oliver."

Gideon's dark eyes were unreadable, unseeing. He blinked several times, bringing his arm up to shield his eyes from the sunlight pouring in through the open front door.

“Shut it!" I hissed at John, who bristled but did as I commanded. Gideon immediately relaxed, then swayed, his body thudding to the ground.

Oliver rolled over, tucking his knees into his chest as he spit blood onto the floorboards. I rushed toward Gideon but stopped short of him as the man, a descendent of those few lower vampires who had been lucky enough to escape their realm of nightmares and slavery to settle here in Crimson Creek, bared his elongated teeth and hissed at me.

“It's me!" I said hoarsely, dropping to my knees in front of him.

“You have a f*****g death wish, Xander," Gideon growled, his eyes darting to my warriors who were standing shellshocked at the front door, weapons drawn. “What the hell are you doing here?"

“Closing the portal, you piece of s**t! You cracked my tooth!" Oliver spit more blood onto the ground before reaching up to cup his jaw, which was already turning a rich shade of purple.

Gideon leaned his back against the wall, huffing a choked laugh as he narrowed his eyes at Oliver.

“Where is your family?" I asked, and Gideon's eyes darkened as he met my gaze.

“Gone. I don't know where. I'd rather not know what happened to them," he bit out, running his tongue along his teeth. I swallowed back the unease prickling over my skin and glanced over my shoulder at my warriors before turning back to Gideon.

“We came here to make sure you were okay–"

“How else would I be?" he replied dryly, crossing his ankles.

I sucked on my lower lip before squatting in front of him, leaning forward to look into his face.

“You look like hell–"

“Well, I've been through hell. I'm living it. Every night more and more of them come through that portal. Do you know what they are? What they used to be? They used to be like me–lower vampires, the so-called children of the Night Realm created by the God of Night so his sons and daughters could have playthings."

“What makes them… all gray and ugly?" Oliver asked painfully, propping himself up in a seat position.

“Being fed on by the king, or each other, over decades, maybe even centuries for some of the older ones. Nothing but death, that's what they are. Death Walkers is what our kind calls them. And there's an endless supply of them, trust me. Whatever you plan to do, it won't be enough. You can close that portal but they'll open more, and more, and more. They'll do so until their world runs out of their precious bloodstones."

“Well, we have to do something, because we're going to lose this entire continent to them unless we stop this now–right now, preferably." Oliver wiped a trail of blood from his nostrils and straightened his legs out in front of him.

“A few lower vampires came through the portal when it opened. When it stayed open, that is. War is brewing on the other side. The kings of the lower vampires had banded together. I don't know if they ever acted on their plans. That was months ago."

“King Costas of Brune," I said, more to myself than to anyone in the room. Gideon's eyes flicked to mine. “I met him and Queen Kiern, I also met their son."

“Zeke?" Gideon asked, then smiled, shaking his head.

“You know them?"

“I know of them. I've never been to that realm. I was born here; my parents were born here… We don't live as long as those bastards in the Night Realm–longer days here, slower hours, you know. Sometimes lower vampires would get their hands on a bloodstone and open a break in the realm and end up here, and tell us everything they knew. The last time that happened was a few decades ago, and we heard all about the missing prince of Brune."

“Well, he's not missing anymore," Oliver cut in.

Gideon gave him a dirty look, then turned back to me.

“King Costas offered me aid," I said. “Can I trust him?"

“I wouldn't trust a vampire, and I am one," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “But what do you have to lose at this point?"

“Nothing," I breathed, and it was the truth.

One of the wolves called out to me through the mind-link, alerting me that it was now nearing sunset. I rose to my full height and offered my hand to Gideon. He took it, his grip weak and legs trembling a bit as he stood. He looked frail and exhausted. He noticed my concern, and exhaled deeply, nostrils flaring.

“I've been hiding out since Alma and my brothers went to scout for food. Last I heard, they'd run into Ben. Ben had been coming here with Bethany every once in a while, but I haven't seen any of them in over three weeks. I've just been… sitting here."

“You're hungry?" said John behind me, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

None of my men really understood the vampires, especially the lower ones. I hadn't had time to explain their eating habits.

Gideon glared. I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, looking down at Gideon.

“We're going to go in. I need you to come with us."

“Why? You realize what's on the other side, right? An entire army of vampires waiting for nightfall in your realm."

“Then we go in after the army passes through Crimson Creek and travel through to the daylight hours of the Night Realm," I offered, and Gideon at least considered this.

“Why me?"

“Because you're the only vampire I trust," I said honestly, a quiet plea in my voice.

“This is your realm as much as it is mine," Oliver added, his voice dropping its usual wry tone, “Fight for it, for your home."

Gideon ran his tongue over his dry lips, considering.

Finally, after what felt like several minutes of silent reflection, he nodded his head and pointed to the blood root covering the walls and floor. “Cover yourself in it–all of you, every inch so they can't pick up your scent. We have roughly four hours until the army passes through. We have to stay hidden."