The Vampire's Tribute

Olivia’s POV

I pressed my forehead to Jacob’s while we held each other’s hands. This was the most affection I dared to allow us to show to one another.

It was far too dangerous to hold each other, to make love, or even to kiss.

By tomorrow, I could be free to have Jacob in every way I wanted, and as he was my fated werewolf mate, I wanted everything.

But for now, while it was still possible I might be selected as a vampire tribute, I didn’t dare take any risks. To do so, and to be caught, meant the whole werewolf pack would be punished.

After my father had been killed by vampires, I couldn’t lose anyone else, not when all I needed to do was wait one more day.

Jacob lifted his hand to cup my cheek. Closing my eyes, I leaned into his warmth.

“Please, Olivia,” he said, voice soft, as gentle as his touch on my skin. “I have everything already prepared for our mating ceremony. There’s no need to wait anymore.”

I longed for Jacob as he did for me. More than anything I wanted to succumb to the mating bond, to become his, body and soul.

But until this year’s tribute was decided, I couldn’t give into this temptation. The vampires required their tributes to be pure, and while the werewolves remained slaves to the vampires, we dared not break those rules.

“You know we have to wait,” I said.

“You haven’t been selected these past four years,” Jacob said. “Why would they pick you in your final year as a possible selection?”

“Who understands the whims of the vampires?” I asked bitterly. “They could select me now just to ruin my life.”

Jacob leaned back to give me a skeptical look, but I was not so easily deterred from this line of thinking.

At the age of 15, all werewolf girls were entered into the lottery of tribute. For five years, each girl must face the possibility of the selection. After the fifth year, if not selected, that girl was then free to find love within the pack. The vampires would no longer want her.

The vampires considered this a mercy, a gift they bestowed on their lowly werewolf slaves.

Each of the past four lotteries, though I had been overlooked, I had witnessed girls being torn away from their families and friends, their unformed mating bonds broken with the males they loved.

Those girls, the tributes, were taken away to the vampire king, and never seen or heard from again.

I tried not to think about what happened to them within the walls of the castle that overlooked our town.

“You are trembling,” Jacob said. He rubbed his hands along my arms as if hoping to calm me. “Soon, this will be over, and you will be mine. When I’m Alpha, I’ll be able to protect you.”

Jacob already helped me and my family so much. He had a good relationship with Mom and my little sister Keri. With my dad gone, things had been tough for my family, but Jacob, the future heir of the pack, never allowed us to go hungry. He sneaked us food, even when the vampires disapproved of it, always under the cover of sunlight, when the vampires were less likely to be watching.

“Only one more day,” I told him and myself, hoping to give us both the comfort we so sorely needed. “One more failed lottery, and we can be together for real.”

That evening came much too soon, with the sun setting behind the massive vampire castle, sending long shadows across our town.

Knowing what to expect, every member of our pack stepped out into the town square under the great clock tower there.

Jacob and I walked together, and though we didn’t hold hands, we stayed close enough to one another that our knuckles sometimes brushed together as we walked.

Across the crowd, I saw my mom and Keri standing together among some other lonely women. Other widows mostly, female werewolves who had lost their mates in similar fashion, along with their children. Keri was the youngest one there. At only 15, this was to be her first time in the lottery.

I tried not to think about it too much. I hoped our family name was cursed, perhaps, and Keri would be overlooked for the next five years, just as I had been.

The clock chimed at 8pm, and the vampires processed the long lonely road down from their castle. They wore black cloaks with the hoods drawn up. With just their sallow, pale faces visible, even their hair hidden, the only flash of color on them was their red eyes.

They looked over us with bored disdain. To them, we must have appeared nothing but cattle, to be fed upon at their leisure.

When they reached the base of the clock tower, one stepped forward before the rest.

I recognized him as the King’s Voice, a colonel among the vampires. He had been here for each tribute lottery, never aging or changing at all.

He gazed among us huddled there and announced, “From this pack, we will select four tributes. Of these four, one will be specially chosen to become the blood pet of the Duke of Vampires, Damien.”

Those of us in the crowd glanced nervously at one another.

The tributes were typically gifted to Vampire King Henry.

The name Damien carried even more weight and more fear than the Vampire King himself. In fact, it was believed that Damien had been the one who sired Henry, biting and turning him into a vampire. This made Damien something like the King’s father, as vampires couldn’t have children the natural way.

Not much else was known about the elusive Vampire Duke, other than what the history books say. He was rumored to be ageless, and though reclusive now, had once fought in the great wars between vampires and werewolves.

If the history books were to be believed, Vampire Duke Damien had slain thousands of werewolves, and was directly responsible for the werewolves’ current plight as slaves to the vampires. He had been King himself then. But after the war was won, he totally disappeared, leaving the present-day Vampire King Henry on the throne.

“Damien taking tributes is a bad omen,” whispered someone behind me. “He has always been the real, secret power behind the vampire kingdom. For him to make himself known again…”

Someone shushed her.

But the voice continued, “We might be headed for another war.”

A second voice countered the first, just as softly, “What more could the vampires take from us that they don’t already have?”

The first woman answered, “There is always more. They have our freedom, but not our spirit. Soon, they will want that too.”

A few more people hushed the voices, and they went quiet this time.

Just hearing Damien’s name sent a shiver down my spine. To face the Blood King himself was a terrifying prospect. I already had many reasons for praying I would not be chosen, but this was one more.

“I will now call names,” announced the King’s Voice. “If you hear yours, step forward.”

I sucked in a breath and held it.

“Jeanette,” called the King’s Voice.

There was a sharp, sobbing cry from my left. Jeanette, a girl a year younger than me, covered her face with her hands, but still obediently stepped forward.

None of us had any choice but to obey.

“Rachel.”

To my right, a similar sob sounded. This time, Rachel, two years my junior, made her way through the crowd. The onlookers stepped aside. They gave her pitiful looks, already mourning that they would never see her again.

“Mckenna,” said the King’s Voice.

The girl directly in front of me froze. She was braver than most though, and did not sob as she hugged her parents and then left them behind.

Jacob leaned into me. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long. One more name and then you will be mine, once and for all.”

Despite the sadness of what was happening around me, I allowed myself a moment’s hope, knowing Jacob was right. Soon, I would be done with this lottery, and we could have the vampire’s mercy and blessing to be together.

We just needed to wait out and survive this last name.

The King’s Voice looked over us, then announced the final name.

“Keri.”

My blood ran cold.

Across the crowd, my mother grabbed my 15 year old sister, holding her closely, unwilling to give her up.

But she didn’t have a choice. The vampires would take her one way or another.

My sweet, innocent, young sister had been chosen as tribute.