Silence Read online

  Silence

  Copyright © N. Isabelle Blanco

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This work is copyrighted. All rights are reserved. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior written permission of the author.

  Cover image licensed by adobestock.com/ © theartofphoto

  Cover design by Decadent Designs by Dee

  Publication Date: January 23rd 2019

  Genre: FICTION/Paranormal Romance/ Erotica

  Copyright © 2019 N. Isabelle Blanco

  All rights reserved

  FREE EBOOK

  CLICK BELOW TO GET A FREE COPY OF

  NEED, BOOK 1 IN THE DARK PARANORMAL

  ROMANCE RYZE SERIES!

  To the wife, Dee Garcia. To my amazing PA Julie JA Lafrance. To my reader group, the Hussy Squad.

  THANK YOU!

  Without y’all in my life, dragging me through the darkest months of my life during the end of 2018, this one would’ve never been completed.

  Thank you for sticking by me as my plots get crazier and crazier, and my females turn more and more psycho LOL!

  You’re all everything to me. I love you to infinity and beyond <3 <3 <3

  But you all know this already :p

  N.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  one

  T he onyx steps leading up to the imperial palace are barricaded by the applauding crowd.

  The sight of my home, more than the beings cheering my arrival, brings a much-needed sense of peace to my soul. It’s not that I’m ungrateful that the citizens are jubilant at my return; it’s just that after two-thousand-five-hundred years of warring for them—protecting them—this kind of welcome has become par for the course.

  Being at home, however, is not. I’ve been gone for half-a-decade. A span of time that should mean nothing to one such as I, yet the years grated on me in ways I cannot fathom.

  The red leaves of this side of the Băneasa Forest decorate the ground. The steps. They spin in the wind as I disperse them with my feet, each step accompanied by a new cheer or a proud slap on the back.

  My brother Malachai, the king of our faction, is on the landing, fangs bared by his large grin. He’s applauding with the rest of his citizens, uncaring of the fact that as our ruler, he’s supposed to come second to none.

  As my brother, he’s always been willing to step aside and let me have the spotlight. It’s never offended him in anyway; his way of showing appreciation for my sacrifices in the name of his kingdom.

  “The great Obsidian returns with his warring, heroic horde,” he calls out, hazel eyes—a shade much, much lighter than my own black ones—shining with warmth.

  Shaking my head, I ascend to the landing and allow him to jerk me into a one-arm hug. “My king, you honor me.”

  He cups the back of my neck with his gloved hand. “It is you who honors us. Come, leave the adoring masses behind. My wife and daughter await inside to welcome you as well. The family has missed you.”

  His wife and step-daughter, as the mortal world would call her, but my chest warms at the thought of them regardless.

  Our family welcomed his adopted daughter as if she’s blood. Hell, she’s been calling me “Uncle” since I met her at the tender age of three. By my calculation, she must be twenty-one by now, if not close to it.

  Almost ready for marrying age.

  Although, ultimately, my brother holds final sway on who gets to own such a precious creature.

  The crowd continues their chanting cheer as the onyx doors to the palace swing open on their own. Beyond it lies the vast entryway to the fortress. Red walls, black floors. Candles flare along the walls, all set to welcome me back home.

  But it’s the two females beneath the chandelier up ahead that grab my attention. “Obsidian!” Alessandra, our queen, rushes towards me in her regal dress, her crown glinting on her head. Black hair—the same shade as her daughter’s—glistens with health. Her pale cheeks are flushed with happiness and her dark blue eyes moist with tears.

  My sister by marriage and emotion. A woman that’s given my brother and I nothing but love.

  One that barrels to me, sweeping me up in a jovial embrace—

  And one that I’m barely paying attention to anymore.

  I can’t.

  Behind her, a darker version of her approaches, with the same black hair. Yet instead of blue, she has dark eyes—an eerie, haunting replica of my own.

  The female approaches in a dark red version of Alessandra’s dress, one that hugs every curve.

  The world on either side of us recedes, disappearing in a rush.

  The backdrop beyond her is lost to the blur, as well.

  This female—this stunning creature with eyes that remind me of the most malevolent deeds I’ve seen on the battlefield—saunters over, her gait a natural progression of grace and sensuality.

  Dimly, I’m aware Alessandra’s exited my arms, that she’s smiling at the female whose gaze has pinned me. She gets within arm’s distance and I’m suddenly shocked out of my apathy by my desperate need to breathe.

  Fuck. I stopped inhaling at the sight of her.

  My chest expands as air fills it once again, only it’s not just air. It’s more.

  It’s ruination.

  It’s darkness.

  It’s sex and the most delicious smelling blood I’ve ever fucking come across.

  It’s evil. Controlling. My gums burn, fangs lengthening behind my lips, and if I’m not careful, soon my eyes will give away this sudden bloodlust.

  My coat will hide what’s happening to my body, but my cock is suddenly hard enough to rival the gold their crowns are made of.

  As if I haven’t fucked in ages.

  As if I’ll go mad if I don’t do so now.

  A hand claps between my shoulder blades, jolting me where I stand.

  “And here she is. My beautiful daughter. Hasn’t she grown so much, Obsidian?” Malachai’s pure contentment and an ignorance so pervasive that I pity both him and myself.

  For he does not know.

  He has not realized.

  Even the girl’s mother, a female notoriously protective of her, hasn’t realized.

  No one has.

  Except her.

  The girl.

  No, the grown female. The one that shares my odd coloring among our kind. The one that used to wrap her miniature body around my legs and hang on for dear life.

  For all intents and purposes, my niece. The same girl who’s always called me “uncle”.

  She does so now, bee-stung lips curling into a lazy smile. “Hello, Uncle,” she finally croons.

  But it’s not the same small voice I remember. This voice is huskier. Grown.

  My fangs ache for the pale column of her neck.

  My cock is a rabid thing, pulsing towards her with zero regard.

  And she’s smiling a
t me, this cryptic grin that gives away her thoughts nonetheless.

  This young female knows I want her.

  Knows I’m suddenly dying for her.

  She looks like she’s ready to play with that fact. Exploit it.

  Gods, I don’t recognize Calamity at all and, for the first time since meeting her, her name makes perfect sense. As if her mother unwittingly named her knowing what she would one day grow up and become.

  “Come. Let’s all adjourn to the main hall. There’s a feast prepared in your honor.” My brother remains unaware, blissfully so, and I have no choice but to allow him to lead me.

  Calamity angles her body away to make room for us to pass, but it’s a slow, eerie movement, those velvet black eyes trailing me the whole way.

  I jerk my stare away, but not before a cold, odd sensation snakes its way down my spine.

  For the first time in my never-ending existence, I realize why the mortals fear us as they do. What it feels like to be caught in the sights of one such as us.

  Not that it matters. Our faction is successful because of our adherence to our morality. Our code of honor.

  My entire life has been dedicated to revering that code.

  Living by it.

  Doesn’t matter what just happened with my body, how that scent fucks with my head from here . . . that young girl is my niece and she’s untouchable to everyone but the male my brother choses for her.

  This sudden, virulent attraction is pointless.

  I repeat that to myself over and over, as we all take our seats in the sumptuous dining hall.

  I repeat it to myself as my brother sits at the end of the table, his wife to his left.

  Keep repeating it as I sit to his right and my right-hand, my general Dregan, sits next to me.

  But when the girl—my niece, I remind myself—sits next to her mother, calm, lethal stare finding my own, the foundations of my entire belief system seem to quake.

  That girl somehow knows my mouth is watering for her.

  That I want to rut on her like some uncouth barbarian, pinning her to the ground, and desecrating her with tongue and cock. That I’m viciously fighting back images, all of them ending with that pale skin dripping my cum.

  With that pale neck glistening with her blood after I drain her like a savage.

  She knows, and I have no idea what that means . . .

  Only that she doesn’t seem ready to ignore it as I’m dying to. I have no clue what she plans to do with this knowledge, but that wee creature seems ready to explore it in some way.

  Five years gone, and I was ecstatic to arrive.

  Now, the stale, deadly musk of impending doom permeates the air around me. A scent I’ve only encountered a handful of times in my life.

  Right before a losing battle.

  My brother raises his goblet of blood to toast my welcome, not even realizing the tragic truth.

  My return might not be cause for celebration.

  I, a male that’s made it his mission to uphold every tenant this kingdom holds dear, might bring about this family’s downfall.

  If I can’t control this infernal lust and keep Calamity away from me, that might be exactly what I end up doing.

  The dark gods help us all.

  two

  “A

  re you ever going to leave this bloody cave of yours?”

  Ignoring Dregan’s asinine question, gaze glued to the six monitors spread out along the long desk before me, I continue reading through the briefs coming in from the field. I can hear him moving around my chambers, most likely touching shit he has no right to touch, but I let him continue.

  Anything’s better than his constant interrogations lately, his frustrating curiosity when it comes to my new isolation.

  Two weeks. That’s how long it’s been since I returned. Since I came face-to-face with my grown-up niece.

  My niece.

  My niece.

  My fucking niece.

  It’s a chant in my mind I refuse to end. Because someday that reality will crystalize in my world again. Someday, this burning ache in my gut will die once my body remembers one very important fact:

  That young female is my brother’s fucking daughter by marriage.

  “Any word on the Vlaqin?” The faction we just spent five years warring on the outskirts of the Bucharest border.

  That question I don’t mind answering. “They’re regrouping, of course. But unless they can rear a new generation of warriors overnight, it’s their spies we really have to worry about for a while.”

  “Huh.” There’s a shuffling sound.

  He’s most likely looking through my crap.

  I let him, because there’s nothing here that’ll give away my new fixation. Nothing worth hiding.

  “How about the Jiali?”

  “Mobilizing, but nothing we can’t handle.”

  “And the Cekle?”

  “Same.”

  On and on it goes, with my second-in-command working his way down the list of our known enemies. Distracted by the inner tugging in my chest, I rattle off one response after the other.

  Until, suddenly, it goes silent behind me.

  “What the bloody hell is your problem now?” I throw over my shoulder.

  “Funny, I’m wondering the same of you, old friend.”

  Definitely still digging. “Maybe you should focus on more important matters.”

  “I am. It’s unlike you to not visit the harems with us upon returning from battle.”

  The harems. The one necessary evil we can’t deny our unmated citizens. Having them goes against our code, but our biological need for blood and sex makes them indispensable.

  I haven’t visited them in years. On the battlefield, there were always females available.

  And after laying eyes on Calamity, I locked myself in here all week. It’s been just my hand and I, and the losing battle with my fantasies.

  Every time I close my eyes, right before I come, it’s her I see.

  Her I want.

  Her I fucking need.

  Hissing, I click my thumb ring against the ring on my index finger. “Very important matters require my attention. Go back to the harem and give me a moment of peace.”

  His laughter makes my fangs elongate with aggression.

  When I look over my shoulder, he’s busy leaping over one of the ornate, black mahogany desks that litter this area of my chambers.

  Like a hyper, inquisitive bunny, that one.

  Dregan smirks at me, dark-red brows wiggling. “Could this perhaps have to do with a female? Only those hell spawn can turn a male inside out like this. Seen it one too many times.”

  My reply? “Out,” I order calmly, pointing to the door.

  It isn’t until his eyes move in that direction and widen that my attention is brought to where I’m pointing.

  Or, more exactly, whom.

  “Hello, Uncle.” Black, unfathomable irises move in Dregan’s direction, and that indulgent smile widens. “Dregan, how are you?”

  He’s as flabbergasted at the sight of her in that dark purple, skin-tight gown. Blinking, stuttering, he bows at the waist. “Y-your highness. I fare well. T-Thank you. And yourself?”

  I’m going to fucking murder him if he stutters like that for her one more time.

  Before Calamity can answer, I get to my feet.

  Her stare snaps in my direction, caressing my black pants. My equally as black, cashmere long-sleeve. The sleeves are rolled up to my elbows, baring the tattoos that cover my arms, the back of my hands, my fingers.

  Every single one was given to me as a celebration of my battlefield triumphs. Every one holds a sacred meaning that goes far beyond decoration.

  And she likes them. I can see it in the hungry, glittering abyss of her eyes.

  Gods damn. Like blazing hellfire straight to my bloodstream. Two weeks of denied lust barrel over me like a murderous tidal wave. “How can I help you, Calamity?” Need to get her out of here before Dregan n
otices what she’s doing to me.

  Before she keeps doing it to him and I slam his fucking face through the antique black desk behind him.

  I’ve barely seen her since returning—upon my own design—but I’ve picked up on how little she speaks in my presence. With others, it’s not an issue, but her words for me are sparse.

  Maybe she knows what her voice does to me and she’s taking pity.

  That enigmatic smile pokes at my curiosity. The way she’s looking into me, as if I’m already inside her and she can see every warring desire within me . . .

  “My mother requests your presence in the main hall.”

  I swallow the dry sand in my throat, fangs piercing my bottom lip as they grow longer on a rush. “I’ll be down shortly,” I mumble past them, doing my best to keep them hidden.

  No reply. Just more of those twinkling, dark irises.

  She spares a glance for Dregan.

  He’s straightened, but his gaze remains fixed on the floor in reverence to her station.

  And her unmarried status.

  And probably because if he so much as stares at her, he probably won’t be able to hide the lust I sense pounding off him in waves.

  Fucking hell.

  The corner of her mouth twitches, almost baring that lone, adorable dimple on the left side of her lips. Then, eyes glittering, she stares right at me . . .

  And bites the corner of her lip with one perfect, elongated fang.

  I’m blasted by a need so fierce that all sentience nearly abandons me.

  “See you downstairs, Uncle,” she sings so sweetly, proving to me that the mischievous young girl that used to love pulling pranks on me is still in there.

  Still dying to fuck with me.

  Dying to fuck me, period.

  I’m not a fool. I’ve had enough females in my existence to realize when one is lusting after me.

  Why is she feeling this? Why is she going with it? Why does she want to cross the most forbidden of lines by tempting me this way?

  The answer to all those questions is within me, taunting me as much as that female is. Whatever this insidious attraction between us means, it’s clearly got us both in its grip.