I Volunteer As Tribute Novels & Stories

Those belonged to us. “I am not the best person to comment,” he added. “Mabel has the stories. She made a friend. And she secured a tribute from Steelbite.” Tanisha’s face flashed in my mind. Friend was a good word. My chest warmed. “What tribute?” Vivian asked. She sounded curious and careful. “Zane will negotiate,” I said. “When it is set, you will know more than me.”

I didn’t want him to worry about me but at this point, that was not possible. “I volunteer.” I said, finally. “What? Volunteer what?” Tara asked, not wanting to believe what she had in mind. “I volunteer to be the spy. I will surrender myself to the Silverfangs.”

And I was now a part of them. "Thank you." The words just unconsciously escaped my mouth. "For what?" Trevor asked, looking keenly at me. "For everything," I replied. "I'm sure the rest feel the same way I do, but may not have had it in them to express their gratitude." "I pledge my fealty and loyalty to you, my Alpha, Trevor Vanderholt." Trevor looked at me, narrowing his gaze at me. He just chuckled and nodded, turning his face as he undid his shirt.

Liam’s POV If you think you have had a bad day, then I’ve had worse. First, I was left at the altar by the woman I was supposed to marry because of the ring bearer. Second, I got a child. My ring bearer. Let’s roll the tape back. “What? You’re surprised?” Lola stepped closer and whispered so that only I could hear her. She looked at me like I had fallen directly into her trap. And yes, I did. I fell directly into her trap.

“Your majesty! I apologize! I... I don’t know how I got here.” He leans over the edge, studying me on the ground before a smile quirks his lips. He finds this amusing. “Stand, please.” I swallow before rising to my feet. My shoes are gone, the stone cold against my skin as I stand before him. Hands fold in front of me, fingers tangling together as I wait for anything. Zarek Nightflame rises from the bed, walking around it to come before me. His nearness has the ambiance around me rising several degrees. “What is your name, Tribute?”

"You just confessed that to me, you don't think I should report you for cheating?" She shrugged, "Go ahead and do it. It's not like I can stop you from embarrassing yourself. I just love seeing how stupid you are." "What's that supposed to mean?" She looked at her friends and they both laughed. Then she came to whisper in my ears again. "You don't understand what's happening here, do you? I didn't pay them. They volunteered as tribute because they want me to beat you up." "What?" "They're all people from my pack and they don't want you. Why? You think everyone likes you now? What a joke!" She stated, glaring at me.

“And I’ll bet you’ve been hearing that all day.” Wade smiled. “That I have. I’m Wade, the dishwasher,” he explained for what must have been the zillionth time. “Pops is home with his sprained ankle propped up, and Dixie’s manning the stove. That leaves me to be your server.” “I’d heard Dixie had hired someone from out of town. That must be you.” “There’s nothing wrong with the grapevine in this town.” “Not a thing. Welcome to Tribute.” The man stuck out his hand for a shake. “I’m Bill Gray, with the Tribute Banner.”

The mention of tribute—offered blood, pledges of loyalty, or mortal lives—felt almost petty against the threats looming on the horizon. But it wasn’t. Tribute was currency. Tribute was power. Tribute kept the balance of fear and favour in our favour. Tribute produced Dhampirs Still… What was the point of impressing ghosts? If Volodymir could not—and must not—be awakened, then what was all this performance for? For the Conclave? For Adrian? For a throne that felt more like a coffin every day? My silence lingered longer than it should have, and Lancly tilted his head slightly, studying me.

"With our training, she’ll be running the international circuits before the next Great Moon." Outside the heavy oak doors, I stood in the shadows, my heightened senses taking in every word of their treachery. I had come to the Studio to collect the tributes and gifts my followers had sent, only to find the packages shredded and scattered in the hallway by the staff, like a kill scavenged by crows.

A wave of guilt consumed me as I continued. "The sacrifice needs to be a woman who is pregnant for this to work correctly, but I don't expect you to. We can try to make it work with anyone who volunteers." Cries of anguish and fear filled the room. To my surprise, one woman stood up. My heart ached as I watched her, her head held high as she moved forward. Many gasped as she stepped toward the front, parting to let her through. Creed and I stared at her in disbelief; it wasn't' something we expected. Many gave her a nod and bowed their heads as she walked forward. "I Rachel Bloodstone, wife and mate of Phillip Bloodstone volunteer." She shouted