Bloodsworn (MxM)

Chapter 1

When the vampire lord Ivan Rosenthal had asked Rowan Marlowe if he would be prepared for anything the Rosenthal children had to throw at him, Rowan was not expecting half the things the second-youngest, Julien, had up his sleeves—or in this case, on his bare wrists.

This had been one of Julien's tamer bed buddies, as Julien coined, indulging in the ropes and feathers over Julien's pale form. The play lasted only an hour, but it was an agonizing hour. Rowan had to stand and watch with a stoic face as the moans of pleasure, and the scent of enticing B+ blood filled the air. Julien's mortal partner was Rowan's preferred blood type of choice, and Julien knew that; another one of his ploys for Rowan to break his steel resolve. Rowan knew better than to give in, keeping himself busy with the task at hand, loosening the knots of the overused ropes that connected Julien to the bedpost. They were unbearably taut, so much that Rowan feared he'd have to cut Julien's favorite rope.

Rowan resisted the urge to leave him there for added amusement, but vampires were not immune to the discomfort of limbs being held in such positions, and Rowan was no sadist. Julien would've teased him endlessly if Rowan had left the knots, insisting that Julien was right to assume Rowan found Julien interesting.

Rowan did find him interesting; interestingly, the strangest and most challenging task Ivan Rosenthal had asked of him since he's been a guard to the clan. Ever since he agreed to become Julien's bodyguard twenty-five years ago, it was clear this task was the biggest ask anyone had ever asked of him. But there was no turning down an offer from one of the most powerful vampires in the country, especially when Rowan owed his life to the Rosenthals.

Julien groaned as the ropes finally loosened enough for him to slide his slender wrists from its restraint. He looked to his bodyguard before gesturing to the man half-atop on him. "Get him off of me first."

Rowan clenched his jaw in response before shoving the unconscious mortal off of the tenth prince. Julien was well adept at handling the body himself but refused to do so, ready to use his bound aching wrists as an excuse. For added suffering, Julien stretched his back, the thin satin sheet slipping lower to expose more of his naked form.

"I'm glad you've managed to contain yourself from draining the mortal dry."

Julien rolled his eyes. "You know I despise his blood type; I was already on the verge of gagging. Though, I probably should have drained him, given how inexhaustibly boring he was. A feather? Who does he think he is?"

"A mortal," Rowan said dryly. "He values his life more than he does satisfying your urges."

Julien scoffed. "Urges? That's all this is?"

"Is it not?"

"It's a necessity, Rowan. While you may not fancy the high of sex and feeding, normal vampires like myself do. Aroused blood is the most delectable; that's not negotiable."

Rowan bit his tongue. It shouldn't have irked him the way he implied his lack of bloodlust was abnormal, especially with how many times Julien teased him for it over the past two decades, but it was still a bitter truth Rowan wished to bury.

A vampire that hated drinking blood was like a vegetarian lion; it went everything against his nature.

"At least try to enjoy a feeding on your own," Julien said, sitting up from the bed, then stared at the snoozing man beside him. "Even a little sip? Probably another pint out of him won't kill him."

Rowan didn't bother, instead turning on his heel to retrieve Julien's clothes from the dresser. Usually, a servant would dress the prince, but they hardly ever entered the prince's chambers without their permission. Rowan insisted it was for the servant's safety—physical and psychological; the last few servants had fainted after Julien's nights with his bed buddies.