The Half Blood - Book cover

The Half Blood

Laura B.L.

The Lycan’s Realm

KING ALARIC

Her lips were on my body, leaving warm kisses on my chest and following all the way to my hard member. I was excited by every move. Her hands now caressed my member, playing with it.

Her dark hair brushed my skin, and her brown eyes looked at me with a smile. I felt her warm mouth, and I gasped at the feeling she was giving me.

Ever since I’d started dating her, she’d been trying to please me in every way. A little overwhelming at times.

I drowned in the feeling of the tongue licking and sucking, stopping it before I could cum inside her mouth. I grabbed her waist and laid her on the bed underneath me.

Her hands were pulling my hair fiercely while I was kissing her hard. I bit her lip. I was hungry for her mouth. Those blue eyes were my downfall. Her lips were so soft and always demanding.

Wait—blue eyes? I opened my eyes and found Salla looking at me with her brown eyes, waiting for me to continue.

I started again, savoring her lips, trying to focus, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw only blue eyes instead of the brown ones that now looked at me worriedly.

“What is going on? Are you okay, my love?” Salla asked me.

I looked at her.

“Yes. I don’t know. I think I am tired.”

“Oh…,” she said with a little disappointment on her face.

“Is something bothering you?” Salla asked me again.

“No, I think I’m tired from all the work I’ve been doing lately.”

I lied to her. I wanted to say yes, that something or someone was haunting my mind. I did not know what was happening to me.

I’d only seen the woman with the blue eyes twice in my entire life, and only in dreams. The way that mysterious woman made me feel with those blue eyes.

I’d do anything for her. I’d give my life for those eyes. I exhaled deeply.

This is crazy.

I didn’t know her; I couldn’t remember her face, only her eyes. I saw her last night. It was the second time, and this time, it was different.

She was dancing around the fire with her white dress pulled up to her knees. Her hair was flying around her. I couldn’t tell if the color was red or blonde. She was hypnotizing.

She stopped dancing when she felt my eyes on her. The light of the fire prevented me from seeing her face clearly.

Who was she? Was she real?

Maybe I’m delusional.

There was a time when I’d dreamed of finding my match. I would think for hours about what my fated mate looked like, her hair color, her eyes. I would daydream about her.

Then she would come along. Many nights I spent dreaming of her arrival.

My true mate? I didn’t care who she was, because I wouldn’t choose her, even if she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I remembered how Hado used to make fun of my judgment, saying that once my real mate showed up, I wouldn’t be able to help it, the instinct to claim her and protect her.

I looked at Salla with her eyes closed and her head on my shoulder. Salla was stunning. She had the beauty that every man could wish for in a woman, and yet…

***

NALA

I needed to distract myself.

As I left the hotel for some fresh air, I reminded myself that Maeve was still a young witch. Her visions weren’t always accurate.

This was probably just the change of scenery playing tricks on her magic.

The King couldn’t possibly be my mate.

I was just a half-breed after all.

Enough, I said to myself, shaking any thoughts out of my head. My daydreams were getting out of hand.

The streets around me were lined with brick buildings full of shops. The colors were so vivid I felt like I was in a storybook.

The bars and restaurants had little tables outside for those who chose to eat or drink in the sunlight.

As I walked on the pavement, I saw a tavern with a Viking helmet hanging above the entrance: Einar’s Viking Bar. The place seemed fine. I thought it might be fun to go out there with Maeve tonight. The city wasn’t noisy; people were just walking around. It was a quiet, charming town.

I was drawn to the smell of roasted coffee beans. I saw a small cafe with a dark-blue exterior and white window frames. I decided to go in for a cup of coffee.

A mature-looking woman guided me to a table.

“Hello. Welcome to Café Rosalind. Would you like some water to start with?” The waiter was a young man who looked my age. He was thin and had green eyes and blond hair tied back in a tiny topknot.

He was somewhat different from the other werewolves in the area. They were all usually robust and full-bodied, but the waiter was not.

“No, thanks. I’ll have an iced coffee,” I replied with a smile.

“Cold coffee? You strike me as the hot type.” He winked at me. “I’ll be right back.”

It was past 3 p.m., and the coffee house didn’t have much clientele. Maybe this wasn’t the busiest hour.

After a few minutes, the coquettish waiter brought me my coffee.

“Here you go,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I’m not.” Now I have to start a conversation when I just want to drink my coffee in peace.

“Why are you visiting, if you don’t mind my asking?” The young man now leaned on my table in a relaxed way, a little sassy.

“I came to visit the kingdom,” I told him, “it’s actually my first time here.”

I didn’t want to be rude, but I also didn’t want to encourage him.

“Wow, I’ve never met anyone who had never been to Alaric’s kingdom.”

My heart dropped at the sound of his name.

I was surprised by the informal tone with which he addressed his alpha.

“Alaric? Is that what people are calling him here, or just you?” I asked him, playing dumb.

He laughed. “That’s what I call him.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, trying to cut the conversation short and get him to leave, but he didn’t notice it and carried on.

“There’s this event coming up in a few days. A sort of game if you will. You should try and come; it’s going to be amazing,” he suggested.

“All right, maybe I’ll pass by.”

“Well all right, I’ve already taken up too much of your time. Enjoy your coffee, and I’ll see you there.”

I responded with a grimace.

When I finished my coffee, it was already after 4 p.m. I had to go to the hotel quickly; I had promised my mother I would see her off to the ball.

Once at the hotel, I helped Mom put her dress and jewelry on. She looked fantastic, like a real queen.

“Okay, girls. I hope you have some fun of your own.” She blew kisses as her and dad got into the cab.

When they left, I looked over at Maeve and said, “We need to get some drinks. Let’s change into something pretty, and get out of this hotel.”

“Nala? When will you let me go for a run?” My wolf spoke to me in my mind. She was feeling restless.

“Tomorrow night, okay?” I promised her. I felt her hiding back in my mind.

Maeve got out of the bathroom with a pair of gray jeans and a white silk blouse with a V neck, with a bit of makeup and her loose curls reaching her chest.

My sister had the face of a nymph, with big green eyes and long wavy dark-blonde hair. She was as knowledgeable and educated as our mother.

“Are you leaving dressed like that?” she asked.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“You look like a black widow.” I looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a pair of black jeans, a black silk tank top, a black leather jacket, and black heels. Black widow?

“I really don’t care.” I sighed. “I just want to relax,” I said, grabbing my purse and key.

We were drinking in the tavern I’d seen this afternoon. It was crowded. I was watching a group of huge local men drinking beer from a horn.

They all looked like real Vikings, all muscles. I noticed that one of them was eyeing my sister.

“That guy is looking at you, sis.” Maeve glanced at him and turned her head to spit all the beer in my face. She was laughing so hard that I could see small tears in the corners of her eyes.

Seeing her like that, I couldn’t help but laugh too. She was trying to say something to me.

“Oh my… Oh m— Oh… Nala… Did you… Did you see him?”

“Yes. He has…he has a little braid on his chin. The only thing he’s missing is an ax.” The Viking realized that we were laughing, and with a grave expression, he came to our table.

“Good evening,” he said with a severe face.

I was trying to put on a poker face, but my sister was not helping me.

“Good evening,” I replied.

“I could not help noticing that you are not from around here,” the Viking said.

“That is correct,” I told him, “we are not from here.”

“What are you laughing at, witch?” Maeve stopped and looked at him more seriously now.

Werewolves could smell witches, since they had a different scent.

I’d never really known what that scent was, because I couldn’t smell it, but at least I could recognize a witch. I didn’t know why, but I could; it was my intuition.

“That’s none of your concern…,” Maeve replied with a firm voice, but her eyes were just the opposite. I could tell she was a little worried, scared even.

“What are you going to do?” She taunted, “by the way, you have ketchup on your chin braid.”

The three of us stared at each other, and suddenly Maeve and I started to laugh out loud again.

“I will make sure that your kind never enters this kingdom again.”

When he got up to get closer to us, he tripped on nothing and fell right on his face. Everyone in the bar laughed, and Maeve stood tall, proud of what she had done. Suddenly, Maeve was quiet. The way she was when she was reading someone’s mind. I could tell from her eyes that she was sifting through the Viking’s thoughts. She was clearly worried about something because the next thing I knew, she was dragging me out of the bar.

“Sorry,” she said, still eyeing the front door of the bar to make sure he was not following us, “we had to get out of there. That man was about to get angry.”

“What did you see?”

“I’d rather not tell you,” she answered, “that man needs to go to anger management or something.”

“So what now? It can’t be the end of the night, how boring.”

“Well, I do have an idea,” she started, “but first we’re going to need to change into something a little more ball worthy.”

Maeve had a mischievous look on her face, and for once I didn’t mind.

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