Unleash (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 6)

  Unleash

  Felicity Heaton

  Unleash

  A powerful vampire lost deep in his bloodlust, Snow is a savage animal, mindless with rage and a thirst for violence, and trapped with no hope of awakening from an endless nightmare… until a song draws him up from the abyss, restoring his sanity but leaving him haunted by the sweet feminine scent of lilies and snow, and fragmented familiar lyrics.

  When the mysterious and beautiful songstress reappears in Snow’s room at Vampirerotique, she awakens a fierce protective streak and stirs dark desires that drive him to claim her as his female, even when he knows his touch will destroy her innocence.

  A single forbidden taste is all it takes to unleash emotions in Aurora that she shouldn’t possess, tearing her between duty and desire, and luring her into surrendering to her wildfire passion and embracing hungers that burn so hotly they threaten to consume them both.

  One act of kindness can lead to one thousand acts of sin though, each a black mark against the bearer’s soul and another grain of sand that slips through an hourglass. The clock is ticking and time is almost up. Can beauty save the beast?

  CHAPTER 1

  “Snow.”

  The gentle feminine voice curled around him, warming him in spite of the frigid cold that bit at his fingers and nose. A sense of joy spread through him as he tried to run through the deep snow, his small legs and arms pumping hard, his focus locked with determination on his prey.

  The owl’s wings were bright even though no moon shone tonight. The crisp white blanket spread across the landscape highlighted everything as though his night vision was already as acute as it would be when he matured.

  “Snow.” The voice called to him again, tender with affection and laced with amusement, but also a note of concern.

  Mama.

  Snow ran harder, giggling and arms reaching, stretching towards the bird in flight above him. Colours danced across the inky starlit sky beyond, ribbons fluttering on an unknown breeze in the heavens. He had never seen anything as beautiful as this night.

  The snow began to shallow, the incline leading him deep into the valley basin. Mountains rose around him, pure white ragged canvases that reflected the luminescent turquoise, pink and blue shimmering above them.

  Breathing hard, he slowed to a walk and scanned his surroundings, searching for the owl. His hearing sharpened and he caught the quiet flutter of wings and the whisper of a branch shifting as the owl landed in a nearby copse.

  His mother’s voice was distant as she called to him. He knew he should return now before he made her frantic again, but he wanted to capture the owl and show his papa that he had grown since last winter and was able to hunt now. Papa would be proud if he killed the owl.

  Snow hunkered low, his pale furs and white hair allowing him to blend into his stark environment. He stalked towards the trees, his eyes fixed on the owl, keeping as close to the ground as he could and moving silently through the icy snow that reached his knees.

  Mama called again.

  He stilled and slowly looked back over his shoulder, following the trail of his footprints through the snow, torn between returning to her and continuing.

  “Snow!” The usual softness in her voice was gone, replaced by fear.

  Snow stood swiftly and frowned.

  His hands were warm.

  Wet.

  He looked down at them and stumbled backwards, eyes wide and heart thumping wildly. Blood.

  His gaze darted from his drenched arms to the snow around him. Blood slashed across the snow too, stark crimson against pristine white.

  Snow panicked and bolted for the trail that would take him back to his mother, his heart thundering hard against his chest and limbs shaking so badly he could barely keep himself from falling to the ground.

  “Snow.” His mother’s voice was frantic now, terrified.

  Mama.

  Hot tears burned his eyes and he ran harder. His foot snagged on a tree limb hidden beneath the snow and he slammed into the cold embrace of the earth. His arms shook as he pushed himself up and his heart missed several beats when he saw that the landscape around him had changed.

  The mountains were different.

  He looked back over his shoulder. The moon was full and a lake nestled amongst the mountains, glittering under its silvery light.

  His mother called again and he found the strength to shove to his feet and run, faster this time, using all of his speed and his limited senses to scour the strange land for her.

  A beautiful chateau loomed ahead, warm golden light glowing in several of the windows of the grand stone building. Conical towers speared the dark sky in places, the deep brown tiles obscured by snow, giving the place a gothic appearance suited to this nightmare unfolding before him.

  A bloody trail led towards it, cutting across the white landscape, black in the moonlight.

  Snow followed the wretched trail, knowing it would lead him to his mother, fearful that he was already too late to save her.

  The steps became easier as he sprinted, his legs longer now, his body more powerful and senses more acute.

  He vaulted a wooden fence with ease and shoved through the pine trees on the other side. The thin branches whipped at him, scratching his muscular arms through his loose white shirt and his face, snagging in his overlong white hair, but he refused to slow down. His mother needed him.

  Snow broke through the trees and skidded to a halt on the icy ground, barely keeping upright. He stared at the dark patch on the wide path just metres ahead of him and steadied himself as his gaze followed it to a low stone wall. Booted feet rested in the blood, splattered with it. Snow’s heart lurched as he tracked up the man’s black trousers and had his worst fears confirmed.

  His father.

  Snow rushed forwards and then sharply turned away as the full horror of what had happened struck him.

  His father’s broken lifeless body bent backwards over the wall, his blood pooling around him, still dripping from the violent gashes across his neck and chest that had sliced clean through his black waistcoat and torn open his pale cravat, and had stained his white shirt crimson.

  Snow barely recognised him.

  Whatever had done this to him had ripped his flesh to shreds. It was as though a wild animal had savaged him brutally and without mercy. But what beast in this world was strong enough to bring down his father?

  Snow bent over and retched, his hands grasping his knees to steady himself, fingertips tugging at the material of his own black trousers. He shook uncontrollably, the stench of his father’s blood and the sight of his corpse causing his head to spin. No. It couldn’t be. He looked back across at the dead male, unable to bring himself to believe he had seen things right, desperate that he had been mistaken.

  Nothing had changed.

  How had this happened?

  His father was old and powerful, far more so than any vampire in this area. His father was strong.

  “Snow!”

  Mama.

  He pushed off, running at full speed, nothing more than a blur in the night as he raced towards her voice. He spotted her near the mansion, her arms wrapped around her slender body and her dark elegant dress making her stand out in the snow. Her long pale hair was bright in the moonlight but dark in places. Bloodied.

  “Mama.” Snow crashed through a large rose bed, thorns tearing and grabbing at his clothes, slowing him down.

  He reached for her, just as he had reached for the beautiful bird before.

  She turned wild pale eyes on him and began shaking her head and backing away from him, heading towards the
arched double doors of the stone building. Blood covered her trembling body and saturated her hair.

  What had she done?

  Snow’s stomach rebelled as an image of his father’s battered body flashed across his eyes and he ground to a halt before her. She hadn’t.

  Tears cut down her face, glistening in the moonlight, and she continued to shake her head, a wild look in her eyes. Her breaths came in short gasps and she pressed her bloodstained hands to her chest, clutching it. A sob broke past her pale lips.

  Snow moved forwards and reached out to comfort her.

  His hands closed around her neck and his thumbs pressed hard against the front of her throat. She choked and he tightened his grip until her windpipe collapsed under the pressure and she could no longer cry out.

  Blood covered his arms, streaked across his skin and his white shirt.

  His bones ached from the blows he had taken.

  His flesh burned from the lacerations. The futile attempts to stop him.

  His heart pumped wildly, so fast he couldn’t think above the noise and the dizzying rush.

  Snow squeezed harder, pressing sharp claws into her flesh, tearing before he realised what he was doing and powerless to stop it from happening. Fresh blood spilled over his fingers and trailed like a morbid waterfall down her shoulders to her chest where it soaked into the boned corset of her dark dress.

  Her wide eyes locked with his, no longer showing fear. Pity filled their pale irises, together with affection and acceptance that lashed at him, but still he couldn’t control himself, couldn’t tame the dark need to maim and destroy, to bloody his hands and drink until the burning thirst receded. He had to feed. He had to kill.

  Tears streamed down his cheeks as the flicker of light in her eyes began to fade.

  No longer would laughter leave her lips to delight his ears. No longer would she smile at him with pride and love. No longer would her arms hold him close and comfort him. No longer would he hear her voice calling his name.

  He tore his hands away from her throat and she slumped to the ground.

  Gone.

  “Mama.”

  What had he done?

  Snow collapsed to his knees. Blood soaked into his trousers. He tilted his head back and stared up at the starlit sky, chilled to his marrow and adrift in the darkness.

  Colourful ribbons danced across it once more, bright against their velvet backdrop, beautiful and soothing his pain. His bones throbbed, the pain threatening to pull him into a black abyss, but he clung to consciousness. The snow was cold beneath him, stealing more of his strength.

  “Snow?” The soft feminine voice curled around him, chasing the chill from his body as it warmed his heart.

  She rounded him and crouched in the snow before him, her beautiful face full of affection and concern, her smile renewing his strength.

  Dark furs covered her body, her long pale hair spilling across the soft fibres. She stood much taller than he was even though they both knelt in the snow, and he looked up at her, into her ice-blue eyes that looked almost white in the low light.

  Her warm hand swept the strands of his white hair out of his face and she stilled when he flinched in pain.

  “What happened?” She leaned down and licked his cheek, sealing the cut there.

  “I made a friend, Mama… but the man made her go.” Snow’s head turned and he wavered. His mother caught his arms and white-hot pain seared his bones. He cried out and squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking from their corners and freezing against his skin.

  “Darling!” his mother called and Snow managed to shake his head.

  He didn’t want his father to come to them. He didn’t want his father to see him like this, weak and useless. He had to be strong. His father would be proud of him then.

  Snow tried to push up onto his feet. He clutched his mother’s shoulders and pulled himself up, but his left leg screamed in pain, the shattered bone grinding together beneath his flesh. He collapsed onto her lap, breathing hard as he fought a vicious wave of pain that threatened to render him unconscious. She gathered him closer to her and looked down at him, fear in her eyes as she gently stroked his brow to soothe him.

  She raised her hand to her lips and didn’t take her eyes from his as she sank a single fang into her wrist. The strong scent of her blood filled the night and she lowered her wrist to him. Snow took the offered blood, his small mouth working furiously to draw enough from the wound. He wasn’t big enough to cover a full bite.

  His mother had tried once when he had fallen from a tree and he had spilled her blood everywhere.

  He swallowed a mouthful and his pain began to ebb, his body swift to ingest the blood and use it to kick start the process of healing his broken bones. The darkness faded with it, the dizziness passing. He took another mouthful from his mother and then she drew her arm away and licked the cut, sealing it. Snow licked his lips.

  His father called from the distance, drawing closer, and Snow willed his body to heal faster so his father wouldn’t see him as weak. Papa prided himself on the strength of their bloodline and their breeding. Snow wanted his father to be proud of him too.

  His mother gathered her furs around them both and rocked him gently in her arms. She leaned over him and pressed soft kisses to his brow, and Snow closed his eyes, savouring the feel of her embrace and feeling safe and warm. Loved.

  He loved his Mama more than anything. He would love her forever and would make sure nothing bad ever happened to her.

  “What was your friend’s name?” she whispered between kisses, stealing his thoughts away from the pain of his injuries.

  Snow’s brow crinkled. The little girl hadn’t said what it was. He would give her a name.

  “Aurora.”

  CHAPTER 2

  The vampire raged in his sleep.

  His bare torso bowed off the mattress and his powerful muscles strained as he pulled at the heavy cuffs chaining him to the steel posts of the large bed.

  When they didn’t give, he thrashed his long muscular legs, pulling the black covers down and revealing more of him to her eyes, including the start of a colourful tattoo on his right hip. The lower half of it disappeared beneath his black underwear. She couldn’t make out the design from this distance and refused to give in to the temptation to move closer.

  She shouldn’t be here.

  Her master would be angry with her if he discovered she had left her post to be here, unable to keep away.

  Snow snarled and twisted his arms in the thick steel and leather restraints, reopening the ragged marks around his wrists and spilling fresh blood. He had been lost to his bloodlust for many weeks now and a few days ago, things had taken a sharp downwards turn, plunging him into the darkest throes of his curse, far worse than any she had witnessed before.

  What did he dream to make him turn so violent and wild?

  She could see others’ dreams but never his.

  Her master believed they would prove to be too much for her, and she felt he might have been right to take that ability from her where this vampire was concerned.

  She moved a step closer but kept her distance, standing several feet from the end of the bed in his grim black-walled apartment. He had been doing so well recently, gaining ground against his addiction and learning to master it. Now he seemed worse than ever. Lost.

  He growled again, the sound pained and feral, like an animal caught in a vicious snare with no hope for escape. His claws scratched at the heavy steel chains of his restraints, blunted by the sheer number of times he had attempted to grasp them.

  He thrashed his head and bared his fangs, his face twisting into a dark visage that was so different to his normal appearance. It had startled her the first time he had changed and revealed his darker nature all those countless centuries ago. Part of her had known then that Snow’s future would hold more pain than one man could bear, and she had wished she had spared him such a life when she’d had the chance.

  Snow twisted and bucke
d, the ferocity of his thrashing causing the steel posts of his bed to groan against the large bolts that secured them to the floor and ceiling of his room.

  She had the oddest urge to go to him and stroke his brow. Why?

  Did she hope it would soothe him?

  She wanted to soothe him somehow. She knew that. It was why she had come to this dangerous place, cloaked from the eyes of those who resided in the London theatre, Vampirerotique.

  She had visited him often over the past few weeks, always remaining in the shadows, shrouded and invisible to those she observed. She had watched the way everyone interacted with Snow, even though he was unconscious most of the time or maddened by rage at the rest.

  She knew what this place meant to him and these people, and what he meant to them.

  Over the past century, she had witnessed how each event that had occurred at the theatre had changed him. He had been wary at first, watchful, keeping to himself and keeping his distance from all but his brother, but then he had begun to grow closer to the other males who ran Vampirerotique, and then he had taken the first step towards a brighter future without even knowing it.

  He had started to consider those at the theatre as his family.

  It had surprised her at first and she had been convinced that she was mistaken for many long months, but then she had begun to hope that the new family he had constructed for himself would become his salvation.

  She only wished he were lucid enough to hear those who visited him and know their heartfelt wishes, because she was sure he would battle his bloodlust if he knew they all desired him to be well again.

  There were new additions to the theatre she felt he would want to meet too.

  Babies.

  Callum, the black-haired elite male with the striking green eyes, had come to Snow’s room one day with a baby cradled in each arm. He had spoken to Snow, who had been unconscious at the time, peaceful, and had shown the babes to him. He had told Snow that he wanted him to get better because he had to meet the twins, and even his wife, the werewolf Kristina, desired it.

  It had been difficult to keep her emotions in check that day, watching as Callum talked to Snow, sensing his hope that the male would wake. He had wanted to give Snow a reason to fight and had wanted him to come around in order to ease everyone’s minds and lift the burden from their hearts.