Nicklaus POV.
Unedited.

I stand outside the door to listen to the rhythm of Claire's gentle heartbeats. She doesn't have to speak for me to be able to determine what she is currently feeling. Her heart rate gives her away every time.

I hate that she blocked me from feeling her emotions. She's so goddamn stubborn.

Her heart rate increases for a few seconds before it returns back to a steady rhythm. What is she thinking about? I wish I could still get inside that pretty little head of hers. I miss her thoughts. She's so entertaining. I wish she would speak to me, yell, shout, or scream. I'll take that. Her silence is killing me. I want to hear her velvety tone and fluent idiomatic expressions. Sarcasm just drips off her honey-laced tongue.

Shortly after we take off, I make my way to the other side of the plane where the men have been patiently waiting. I need a drink. Something strong, bitter, and full of toxins will be perfect. It is going to be a long flight, and we have many anticipated fights ahead of us. Alcohol is heavily required. Jack Daniel's shall be my best friend.

On the other side of the plane is a bar, equipped with a bartender. I'm sure the guys are already starting their personal session.

As expected they are already sitting on the bar stools, entertaining one another. Xander and Marcellus are bickering back and forth, with drinks in their hands. Vlad is sitting a couple of stools down, lost in thought and downing poison. What the hell has gotten into him? He's not the friendly type, but he damn sure isn't a loner either.

I take a seat right beside him. Without being told, the bartender places a glass of Jack Daniel's on the rocks in front of me. She flashes me a flirty smile and attempts to start a casual conversation, which only results in a big epic fail.

Rebecca the train is a lower-level vampire slut that gives blow jobs, makes good drinks, and loves to please me any way she can. That's it. She takes orders from me and only me. I have allowed the men to sow their royal oats if they wanted to during many of our trips.

I forgot to fire her. If Claire finds out, she will be pretty goddamn pissed. Maybe I should kill her to avoid future conflict.

Nope.

Now that I think about it, that would make things a lot worse. Claire would feel sorry for her. She can't help it. My queen is the epitome of merciful. I, on the other hand, am not. That can be a great balance for our union, I suppose.

But I'd rather get rid of this slut altogether.

Knocking my drink back, I turn to face Vlad. He looks troubled, like a sorrowful man lost in the glass of hard liquor. He seems oblivious to me watching him or sitting beside him, which is so unlike him.

Vlad is in charge of my security detail because of many things. One of the best qualities he possesses is his attention to detail. Usually, he has a third eye but not right now.

"Hey, you alright?" I ask, taking another sip of the fucking sting.

Fuck, that tastes great.

It's nice to know that Rebecca is good for something other than an easy fuck.

Vlad looks up from his glass of escape and sighs. "Yeah, I am, Your Highness—"

"You can skip the formalities, Vlad," I interrupt him, taking another sip. "You have earned your place at the table to be called brother." I put my free hand on his shoulder.

He looks taken aback at first. I can't blame him. Only a select few—mostly the other kings—are aware of this side of me, and that includes Vlad. His loyalty and devotion to my queen and me are unquestionable.

"Yeah," Marcellus adds with a slur. "He got his ass kicked by Claire. He rightfully deserves to be a part of this brotherhood. None of us were jumped in. Personally, I believe he deserves a medal or something special."

"Shut up, Marcellus," we all say in unison.

He's so fucking annoying. The fool has the audacity to laugh. We all have our focus on the joker in the room. This man is a fucking clown. He's still one of my best friends and the most loyal man I could ever have. He's a headache, but he's a loyal joker to the very end. Loyalty means everything to me; that's why I'm so fucked up with Claire. Those dogs are my enemies. She is my queen. Her loyalty must belong to me regardless of my flaws and faults or the fake bonds that they formed with her.

Now, don't get me wrong. I know Claire has a heart of gold and her overall goal is peace. I get that, but Rome wasn't built in a day. Trust me, that saying is true. I saw the empire rise and crumble before my very eyes.

Marcellus is still hysterically laughing, bent over and with his hand on his stomach. His eyes are filled with happy tears.

He's an idiot. Fuck, he is annoying. He's like the annoying little brother I never had.

I raise the glass over my head to propose a toast. "To brotherhood," I speak.

"To brotherhood," they all repeat.

Then, we knock it back. The toxin runs deep.

Xander and Marcellus go back to whatever the hell they are talking about, while Rebecca slides me another drink.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Vlad asks me with caution and skepticism.

He doesn't open up much. I have known him for centuries. I was nothing but his king, and he was my soldier. That's it. The hesitation is expected.

"Go for it," I say, studying his worried expression.

"Yeah, go for it," Marcellus chimes in.

"Shut the hell up!" snaps Vlad.

Marcellus just laughs in response.

Yup, Vlad is officially one of us.

He shifts his focus to Rebecca and then back to me. He doesn't want her to hear whatever he is about to say. It must be about Claire.

I nod in understanding.

"Rebecca, how about you go show my brothers a good time," I instruct.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, she perks up. Her nipples visually get hard through her clothing that barely covers her body.

"As you wish, Your Highness," she responds with that god-awful, flirtatious smile of hers.

Fuck, I want to kill her.

Xander and Marcellus exchange looks as Rebecca stands in front of them, then takes off her clothes. Then, she unzips both of the two's pants.

Xander glares at me. He has never liked to ride Rebecca the Train. He is still a cold-hearted man after all.

She throws it. He catches it and rejects it. That's just the way that he is. He may be the one to snap her neck if she misbehaves in front of Claire.

Correction, he will snap her neck tonight if she misbehaves in front of Claire.

"Take them elsewhere to relax," I lazily order.

Again, she follows my command, and Marcellus hops like a bunny. That fool is always down for Rebecca the Train.

Xander is still glaring.

"It's for Vlad," I communicate with him inside my head.

"I'm not touching that slut," he responds. "I'd rather not touch someone that I can potentially kill."

That's what I thought. I know him so well. Good! He can take the worry off my hands.

Xander puts his glass down and stands to his feet.

"Have fun. I'm going to check on the brave one," says Xander, then disappears without another word.

After a second, Rebecca takes Marcellus by his hand and disappears as well.

Why did I ever touch that girl?

My mind goes completely blank, and not one logical explanation comes to mind.

Once Rebecca and Marcellus are gone, Vlad asks me, "What was that about?"

I almost laugh at the evident disgust plastered on his face.

I pick up my glass and take another sip of my drink. "Would you care to find out?'"

"Fuck no." He studies the drink in his hand before finishing it altogether. "What made you accept Claire, Nicklaus? I mean before she was one of us. How did you deal with the fact that your beloved was a human?"

Out of all questions, I didn't expect that one.

"Well, I didn't, at least not at first." I finish my drink and slam the glass down onto the bar. "Our bond was forged whether I wanted it or not. She was destined to be my queen, and there was nothing I could have done about it. Fate always wins."

Vlad stands up and slides over the bar. "How so?" he asks, popping open a bottle of Johnny Walker and then begins chugging it down. He's a troubled man walking into the sorrows of scotch.

Once he finishes downing the whiskey, he moves along to a bottle of Jägermeister, leaving Scotland and walking straight into Germany.

Yeah, he's going through some things.

His lips host a ghost of a smile as he removes the now-empty bottle.

I stare into my empty glass. "Welp, Claire has that sort of effect on people," I confess, with a ghost of a smile of my own.

Claire has affected our entire world in the best way. She truly has no idea what type of power she holds, the type of power she holds on me alone. The world will truly crumble underneath the loss of her soft touch.

"Yeah, she does," he absentmindedly responds. "Claire plays a huge part in my inner battle."

His words rub me the wrong way. My monster is now present. That quick.

"Vlad, you are my brother, and you have my trust—"

"No," he intervenes, picking up another bottle of Johnny Walker. "I love Claire as a friend, you know?"

"No, I don't." I shrug. "But I do understand."

My monster disappears, going back into the dark shadows of my mind. Yup, I've got a problem. One may even go as far as saying I am a little paranoid about losing her to another man, but Claire is just such a great catch. Who wouldn't want her? Everyone who meets her seems to fall at her feet.

Vlad chuckles softly."You got it bad, man."

I'm not really surprised at his observation about my jealousy problem concerning Claire. He's right. I got it bad.

"You play another part in my inner battle," Vlad admits.

This piques my interest.

"How so?" I find myself the one asking him now.

He laughs into the bottle of Stolichnaya. Now he's embracing his Russian roots.

"I found my beloved," he slurs, unexpectedly nearly losing his footing, although he was the one who said I got it bad.

We all do. We get blissfully fucked the moment we find our beloveds.

Instead of questioning who or where she is, I decide to allow the drunken man to speak his sober heart.

"Her name is Abigail. She is sweet and shy. And she is a human." He pauses, visualizing his beloved in his mind, I'm sure. He takes another swig of his drink, then continues, "How can I keep her out of our world? I can't bring her into this. I'm not good for her, and she is no good for me. Our people will never accept her. She's too kindhearted to have to deal with me."

The more he speaks, the more I realize that I was once like him.

"You have no choice," I tell him the honest truth.

He doesn't. He has that look in his eyes, the same one that Cyrus and I had, and now Vlad has. How did I miss it?

"When I first met Claire, the pull I felt for her was automatic. I tried to stay away from her but still kept her close. She made me feel human emotions and has tamed my monster since day one. I was also worried about her safety and how our people would react if I decided to claim a human queen."

"You are our king, Nicklaus," he reminds me. "Your family name holds weight. You have people that will die for you. I've got no—"

"You have me," I cut him off. "I told you that you are my brother. I will protect you and your beloved. No harm will come to her."

Vlad starts laughing like a madman, catching me off guard. Does he think I am a joke?

"I don't need anyone's protection," he tells me. "Nor do I want it." He takes another swig of his drink, gripping the top of the bottle tightly as he swallows down the contents. Once he finishes, he tells me, "I would die for her. I would destroy our entire empire for her. I'm not worried about harm coming towards her, physically at least. But I'm worried about mental damage. Her soul is too pure."

"You're trying to protect her soul?" I ask him the obvious.

He runs his hands through his hair. "I'm no good for her."

"She is good for you."

"No, she's not," he responds, slightly raising his voice. "Abigail is everything I'm not. She's far better than I deserve."

I sigh. "You're making the situation more problematic than it has to be," I point out. "Turn her, Vlad. Complete the bond. Don't fight fate. Trust me on this one."

"Her fate will be fatal alongside me. I must stay away from her at all cost."

Some things are unavoidable. Vlad will learn it by himself. Abigail already implanted her hooks in his soul. She is a goner, and so is he.

"Good luck."

I wish him the best. He's going to need it. The raw fire and undeniable passion in his eyes tell it all. He cannot live without her, and I'm certain.

"Thanks," he says, then finishes drowning his troubles. "I'm going to get some rest," he speaks after a while.

* * *

Claire is sound asleep when I return to our cabin. Xander's scent still hangs slightly in the air. He must have stayed here until she fell asleep.

I turn to place my undivided attention onto my sleeping beauty and once again, I found myself struck by her. She is inherently flawless in every aspect. She lures my monster in. There's a blinding light inside her that happens to demand no defying.

No one can deny it. Claire is perfect. How the hell did I get so lucky?

I quickly take off my slacks and unbutton my shirt, I anxiously slide behind her and place my arms around her tiny frame. I've been in desperate need to touch her. The size of the bed forces our bodies to mold as one.

Claire rolls over to her side, unintentionally poking her little ass out. My dick instantly hardens. She's wearing nothing but my T-shirt and some red lace panties. Her swollen nipples are poking out through my shirt.

Fuck.

I start to become more and more excited just staring at her almost nakedness. I lie there, enjoying this extremely comfortable position and the amazing view of my seductress of a beloved.

Out of nowhere, she scouts her round and full ass right onto my manhood.

Oh, fuck! My dick is stone-hard.

I bring my hands underneath the shirt, rubbing a soft circle all over her smooth skin. She shivers in response, her heart beating frantically. I might come on myself just from touching her.

Without warning, she turns over and slings her leg over me, locking me in between her heat. My dick is growing harder by the second, and I know she feels the pressure.

I try to calm myself down, placing my focus onto anything but the sweet-tasting heat that lies between her legs—her kitty, I believe that's what she once called it. I start to concentrate more on her thick, long, and full eyelashes that are fanning her angelic face.

She's mesmerizing. How the hell can I possibly find a distraction when I'm lying beside her? Her full, plump pink lips are puckered as she slightly snores. I want to taste them, devour them with my own. They taste just as good as they look—sweet and satisfying.

After a while of staring at her like the creep I am, I come to the conclusion that there are no other distractions. She is the biggest distraction of all time. There's something foreign and intriguing about her features. Her soul calls to me, whether it wants to or not, like the beautiful melody of a siren singing and calling as it swims around freely in the sea. She's that extraordinary.

I settle my head on her chest and lie, still telling myself over and over how lucky I am. I just want to listen to the soft rhythm of her heartbeat.

She squeezes her legs tighter around my frame.

Blood God! This woman will be the death of me, a death that I will meet head-on. I had waited lifetimes to find her, and now that I have her, I will never let her go.

I continue to enjoy the warmth of her skin and the sound of her soft beating heart for the rest of eternity. She belongs to me. She's perfect—again, how did I get so lucky?

* * *

When I awake, Claire is still asleep, snuggling close beside me. I wake up feeling like the man of the year. This feeling is bliss, peace, and harmony. I know we are fairly close to landing. I can sense my power surging through me. We, kings, are stronger in our kingdom, a force to be reckoned with in our own realms. Claire should experience this exact feeling the moment she awakes. Now that we are bonded, my power is hers as well.

I can feel the power in the emerald strengthening, getting ready for a fight. We don't share a one-sided bond, so this power is also mine. And Claire is strong. She doesn't truly understand what she possesses. To be quite candid, neither did I. At this exact moment, I can feel her dominance rushing through my veins. Everything that was a blur—that I was blinded with—is now crystal clear. The queen has finally arrived.

Claire was born to rule. She was made for this. She was made to stand by my side.

The surging power, which she carries within, speaks for itself. Claire hosts it. She is the one. She has always been the one.

My people, this world that I have been born into, and the other kings are truly not ready for her. They aren't ready for us. It's really fucking ironic. Since day one, I have feared what my people and my parents would do to her if they find out who and what she is to me. Right now, however, I want to laugh at my own stupidity. My fear was a fucking joke.

Claire is the one that they should fear. They should fear our union. Even with that in mind the threats that we are surely going to face are unsettling and weighing heavily on my mind, on our minds. I can feel the unease running through my connection with the other men.

I sit on the edge of the bed for a while, really not wanting to leave her alone for a single second. I want to wake her. I want her beside me every moment of the day, every second before the hour. I need her. She is so goddamn intoxicating.

I take her hand and plant a gentle kiss on the back of her soft skin before finally heading out to get ready.

Once freshened up, I make my way to the other side of the plane where the others are most likely waiting. The moment I arrive, they are all sitting in the little lounge area. Rebecca the Train is nowhere to be seen, thank the Blood God. The last thing we need is for Claire to burn the plane down right upon landing.

Just thinking about it makes me chuckle to myself. That would be quite the entrance.

"She's still out," Marcellus begins like he knows what I'm thinking and trying to shift the mood.

Everyone was sitting around like the world was on their shoulders before I entered, but Marcellus would be the one to shift the attention.

"Man, let me tell you about the ride of my life."

"There is no point," Xander refuses. "We know all about the bumpy train ride from that whore. She certainly doesn't miss any stops," he says, while I take a seat.

I roll my eyes. It's too bad I can't erase my own memory. If I could, Rebecca the Train would have been long forgotten.

Desperate to avoid any further conversation about her, I get straight to the point. "Have any of the other kings contacted either one of you?" I ask.

"Each and every one of their commanders have contacted me," Vlad answers. "They are all