Alaric Vampire Novels & Stories

He knew their paths would diverge, their destinies forever apart, but the memory of their intimate encounter would forever be imprinted upon his immortal soul. With a final, longing glance, the vampire silently departed, melting into the shadows with a blend of longing and melancholy. Amira stirred from her slumber, her eyes fluttering open, as if awakening from a dream. A radiant smile graced her lips, unaware of the nocturnal visitor who had gifted her with an awakening, both sensual and profound. ________________________________

Seraphine echoed, confusion etched across her face. Lyra leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with intrigue, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Alaric Vortemont. The vampire. He’s the one with those molten-silver eyes, always looking like he can peer into your very soul and tear it apart. He’s heir to one of the oldest vampire bloodlines in the world.”

CAVEEN (striding forward): “She climbed a ladder to your balcony. She bled herself for you. And you… you would’ve drained her if I came a minute late.” ALARIC (hoarse): “I know.” CAVEEN: “No. You don’t. You knew what was happening—you called me, you called Mother—and yet you sat there letting yourself rot because of what? Pride? Shame?” ALARIC (slowly raising his eyes): “Because I didn’t want to become… this.” CAVEEN (furious): “You are this! You were born with vampire blood, Alaric. Hiding from it nearly cost Seraphine her life!”

I asked because from what I know, they're always thirsty for blood and he hasn't shown any sign of that. "Normal vampires yes but not me." I frowned. "Why not you?" He sighed. "I know you may have a lot of questions at the moment but it's best for you to go back to sleep. It's one in the morning." "You drag me all the way out here and show me that supernaturals exist just to tell me to go back to bed?" "I dragged you here to finally make you believe me. The sooner you start your duties as a chosen one the better. You've already been attacked once by a shapeshifter. We are running out of time." Attacked? Shapeshifter? What is he talking about?

They needed reassurance, and they needed a vision for the future. Alaric, the former vampire king, stepped forward, his presence commanding but subdued. Despite the mistrust many wolves held toward vampires, Alaric had fought alongside them to defeat Diablo, and his bond with Tonya, the daughter of the Earth Goddess, gave him some measure of credibility. He raised his hands to calm the murmurs in the crowd.

Danrious took his hand away from my mouth. "Help," was the only thing I could say, but he just fixed his glasses and grasped my hand. "Don't worry, you won't end up like them," Sir Daryl assured. I'm unsure what he means, but I fear them now. He licked my wrist, then sank his fangs into it without warning. I winced at the agony but didn't have the strength to fight it. They're not humans; they're bloodthirsty vampires. A tear fell from my eye, and I gazed up, seeing the plain ceiling and closing my eyes.

My eyes shot wide open before he pushed me back down. "Have I made myself clear?" He spoke as if he was daring me to say no. I nodded to the best of my ability. He had made himself completely, unmistakably crystal clear. "Good," He chuckled as he leaned down towards my hip. I again squeezed my eyes shut as my entire body tensed up. His hand moved my shirt out of the way as his teeth scraped against his chosen area. "Relax, dear." He spoke lowly with a hint of sarcasm, his hands pinning my legs down onto the bed, "It's only a vampire bite."

he started speaking. "You called me?" A man appeared in front of them, shocking Wylder a little. After all, he was a vampire and they couldn't enter inside the house until they were invited. Also, another nother factor of shock, or surprise, was his look. His front hair was tied with pink elastic hairbands. He had applied makeup to his face and pink nail paint to his nails. "What's the fuck with your look, Alaric?" Theodore asked. "Well, what can I say? I have a daughter who wants me to look like Barbie. That’s a different thing that I’m looking like Ursula, but I’m happy to be Ursula as long as she is happy."

Melia burst out laughing. "You're sweet, really," she said, still laughing. "I can see why I didn't bite your collarbone." "You're, oh my God," he shouted out of nowhere, standing up and backing away. Melia stood up straight again and faced him. "What am I?" "You are... unbelievable!" he exclaimed, and it seemed that everything he had been feeling just a few minutes ago faded away to a feeling of awe. "Biting, 38-degree food, hell, aura," he said to himself, connecting the dots. "Yes, Orleans, I am a vampire."

His face, while still ugly, was at least human. I didn't like being dismissed so easily by Yosef. "Okay," I said. "I don't think you understand. Do you want to know why Paul's blood is so strong? Because he's my blood donor, and I am a Vampire. So, you can't have him because he was mine first." The werewolves began to laugh. Those who could understand what I was saying gave a translation for the others, and then they laughed, too. Paul had retreated until his back was almost against the banister of the stairwell. Those bastards laughed so long that some of them doubled over.