A Royal Craving (33 page)

S
pencer paced the floor of the bedroom, his wedding ring shimmering in the shadows, from the overhead light.

All Hallow's Eve had always been a night of frightening tales and dark shadows creeping over walls to terrify him. That had not changed when he became a vampire, as he had learned of the horrid sport in vampire history, where nobles hunted and killed any vampires they could find.

Parry had delighted in telling the stories, until Spencer woke to nightmares of humans hunting his family. When he confessed his fears for Jaycob to his husband, Prosper had shouted at Parry for two hours. His twin had apologised profusely and emphasised that they were merely stories and not all were true.

That had not been enough to settle Spencer's concerns. If 'not all' stories were true, that meant some were. And his paternal instincts would not accept any calming on this night.

Jaycob slept peacefully in his arms, after a feeding. And still his King had not returned home yet.

At one in the morning, with Prosper supposed to be home at midnight, Spencer worried that something had happened.

Winston looked up from his bed in the corner of the room and cocked his head, as a shadow crossed the floor. A moment later, he lay his head down and returned to sleep.

Jaycob began crying.

A hand appeared on Spencer's shoulder and he froze, exhaling deeply. “I was afraid you were not coming home.” He turned to find Prosper standing behind him, a smile on his face and weariness in his eyes. “I presume the meeting ran late?” he asked.

Prosper ran his hand over Jaycob's head, instantly quietening his cries. “Yes, little one. A small argument about Braddock's new wing in the hospital. Nothing serious,” he explained, cradling Jaycob's head in one hand and curling the other around Spencer's neck. “Braddock will have whatever he requires, for his experiments. What he and Yalena are doing is important. I will not let anyone undermine his authority. He is still the King's man and we are family. No one will question his needs again,” he confessed.

It had been a year since Jaycob came into the world, screaming, while Spencer lay unresponsive in bed. Yet, their son had behaved since then. When he woke during the day, Winston would wake one of them to see to his needs, his instincts growing with each day that passed.

As were Spencer's paternal instincts. He often woke before or just after Jaycob did, with a need to check on his son. Though, sadly, he had no more dreams of hearing Jaycob's cry or Prosper's deep, husky voice.

Prosper, ever the caring, sensitive man, insistent they share responsibility over their son and his needs, now his work with the city council had ended. The city remained his to care for and control, and he kept busy doing all he could to help the people most affected by his choices.

Including the views of the people meant he must venture to their meetings during the day. Which meant Spencer and Winston had sole care of Jaycob and the house.

As a protective father, Spencer refused to allow the servants to care for his son. Eamon doted on Jaycob as a grandfather or uncle would, while Tabitha kept a respectful distance, due to her position in the house.

With Parry and Davian living happily in their own house on the property, there was no one else to care for Jaycob except Spencer. Camryn refused to even hold Jaycob for fear of harming or upsetting the human baby.

But Spencer would have it no other way. He and Prosper were the only parents Jaycob would know and he would grow up knowing they loved him.

Prosper worried, of course, because he did not want Spencer to be overworked or exhausted with the dual stress of caring for Jaycob and running the hospital. The fact Jael and Braddock worked with him meant nothing. It was Spencer's dream and he would not let anyone else control his dreams.

Davian trained to become a doctor, while Parry had medical knowledge and previous training they could put to use immediately. It had become a true family affair and the crèche at the hospital allowed Spencer to take his son with him, when Prosper could not take over parental responsibilities.

“Do you think they could be getting close?” Spencer wondered, as he resumed his pacing, to calm Jaycob.

“Yes. It will take years before it is achievable, but their theory sounds valid,” Prosper answered with hope, as he began undressing as a human would.

They had discovered that Jaycob cried when a vampire used their abilities around him, something Braddock said was natural for a true born vampire child. Born with their own abilities, they lacked the skill or knowledge of how to use them until their turning. Seeing other vampires use gifts in front of them made the child insecure and frightened them. All because they were unable to defend themselves.

It never ceased to astound Spencer that such considerations were possible for a child not yet a year old.

“Braddock claims that if we can have a second child one day, we will prove his theory without the need for test subjects,” Prosper exclaimed.

Braddock and Yalena were trying to reintroduce the ability for vampires to create and carry children to full term. Currently, they were in the theoretical stage.

“He wishes for more grandchildren. As though he does not spoil Jaycob enough.” Spencer laughed at the thought of Braddock's claim.

He and Prosper had agreed, before Jaycob's birth, that they would never try to stop themselves from having children unless it became necessary for the sake of his health or their emotional stability. Neither wanted to suffer continual losses, as some vampires did, when they attempted to have children of their own.

Spencer had trouble adapting to being a vampire, without the complexity of those emotions as well. The added pressure of having suffered through hours of traumatic pain and hallucinations, during Jaycob's birth, had put him off another attempt.

Medically, his blood and reaction to most normal vampire incidences proved beneficial. His father even worked on Prosper's sickness, to create a cure or utilise the properties in his blood that allowed for the safe consumption of human food. If he succeeded, then vampires could stomach human food and require less human donors to feed them.

Braddock had come close to discovering the potion Prosper's father had once used, by examining the old medical texts that his King had saved. Once he had that information, he could work on reversing some of the basic effects. But they had already agreed that Prosper would never take a cure, until it had been proven to work.

The only aspect they wished to change about his condition was the constant pain, when a new burn or scar appeared. Anything Braddock could do for him now would prevent further damage, but never alter what had already been done.

And though his husband expressed his disappointment, Spencer continued to remind Prosper that if he changed in appearance or personality, then he would leave with Jaycob and never return. The burned, scarred, vulnerable King he had married was the only version of his husband that he wanted.

Once Prosper changed, he took Jaycob from Spencer's arms and encouraged him to get into bed. They were turning in early, to make an afternoon visit to the hospital the next day.

It had taken months to manage, but they could now wake at three in the afternoon and stay awake until four in the morning, before sleeping. It allowed them to sit on the cusp of two lives; the human ventures they were both involved in and their vampire lifestyle. It also soothed Jaycob into sleeping regular hours.

Even Parry had been heard to remark at Jaycob's good behaviour. He barely ever cried, never complained about being woken or put to bed. He never acted up or played with the dog in a way that annoyed Winston. He could barely crawl properly, but he was a happy child who loved everyone, especially his uncles Parry and Davian, who spoiled him rotten.

No one ever saw Sienna, unless at a social function. As Jaycob grew up, he would barely know her as family and Spencer was happy with that. His sister-in-law had plotted against his husband and child, accused Prosper of barbarous actions and refused to apologise for any of it. She would never be someone he wanted in his life or Jaycob's.

Spencer watched his King lay Jaycob in his cot and tuck him in, while thinking of Sienna. His husband had taken in most of her human staff, not long after their move to his estate. Sienna now refused to have any human in her household, even a servant. If any came into her house, they were badly mistreated and cast out.

Parry and Davian spent most of their days in the main house with Spencer, while Jael gave up a life of servitude to become the first female doctor in the city, thanks to Prosper overturning the prejudice laws. She now taught part-time in a medical school. She had never returned to her Master, Prosper's uncle; their relationship had been broken by Jael's departure to Sienna's house and could never recover.

Everything had slowly come together. There was still much to do and many heartaches possible in their future, but they were happy, healthy and they had a son they would do anything for.

Prosper kissed Jaycob's forehead. “Goodnight, son. Sleep well,” he whispered, before turning and making his way to bed.

Spencer watched him with heavy eyelids and a soft, dreamy smile. “I love when you do that,” he professed.

Climbing into bed, Prosper switched off the bedside lamp, curious about his words.

“When you talk to him. I know he hears you,” Spencer said, his eyes closing, now that he had return home safely.

Prosper knew what those words meant; he was glad their son was not deaf, like him. But he would not have cared either way; Spencer was a miracle. He had love, compassion and room in his heart for anyone he came into contact with; even the adopted family who had rejected him.

They might now live in the poorest part of the city, relying on the aid he and Spencer had set up for poor families, but their treatment of their son had been abysmal. And they had never apologised. It did not matter to Spencer; they had raised him, loved him for a time and given him a home. He would always think of them as family.

Prosper placed his companion's hand over his lips, to feel his words. “You are the most perfect, beautiful creature I have ever known to exist. Our son is perfect, whether he is or will or will never be deaf.” He promised he would never think differently of his husband or their son, no matter what happened.

Spencer saw past the scars and burns that covered his body. What kind of husband would Prosper be if he thought being deaf, a condition Spencer had been born with, should be something to be ashamed of or despise?

He loved Spencer for being strong and independent. He never relied on anyone, not even Winston. He was the most capable man he knew.

“I love you.” Spencer curled up in his arms.

It was his lover's favourite way to sleep and Prosper liked it too. He did not bother saying the words back; he knew. They never had to say the words, because their love remained strong. But it sent warmth through his veins to hear them occasionally. It felt special.

Just like when his lover reminded him of the cross that had once marked the palm of his left hand and the message it had relayed.

“Prosper,”
he would say.
“That cross was my compass. It led me to you,”
he would insist, with those beautiful green eyes.
“Without that constant reminder of the prophetess and her powers, I would never have trusted her words and followed my heart. I would have forgotten or lost hope. That mark reminded me to never lose hope, because the impossible could happen.”

And, like every other time he said the words, his companion would blush wildly and kiss him. And, as the first time, their need for each other would ignite the room and they would make love in a fitting expression of their love for one another.

A smile curved onto Prosper's lips at that thought, as he drifted off to sleep.

If there was one thing their lives had in abundance, it was passion. For their life's work. For their family. For each other. And, like that impossible cross, it would never fade.

O
nce again, thanks to my parents. They've never tried to hamper my imagination or discourage me from following my dreams.

To my publisher, CHBB, and all my fellow writers there, who have supported me through the journey of writing. I've learned so much from all of you.

Thank you to my Beta Readers, especially Anne, who has stuck with me through many books already and is always ready for the next one. Thanks also to Pia and Jodi, Hope, Lisa and Piper, for your great input, that helped make this book so much better than it ever was.

Most importantly, thanks to all my readers. I hope you like this one. I can never thank you enough for all of your support, warm words and reviews that let me know my stories are appreciated.

Thanks to the M/M Book Rec group on Facebook, too. You guys were awesome, when I was struggling for direction and whether an mpreg would even be something I could turn my hand to. Thanks for all of your support.