Vampire Roses Novels & Stories

Book 2: The Rejected Mate Nate pov Rose brought the jasmine to her nose again, inhaling deeply. The smile on her face—genuine, unguarded—made the past two weeks of stupidity worth suffering through if it meant seeing her happy now. "They really do smell like home," she said softly. "Nate, how did your mother know? About night-blooming flowers reminding vampires of home?"

I need to move fast. I sprint up the stairs to my bedroom. I grab my leather jacket from the bed. I do not even bother to zip it up. I run back down to the main hall and stop by the glass vase near the front door. Inside the vase sits a massive bouquet of Crimson Roses. I spent a fortune on them last week. They are rare. They are supposed to be completely irresistible to any high-ranked female wolf. The scent is thick and sweet, almost suffocating. I rip the flowers out of the vase. Water drips onto my boots and splashes across the polished floorboards.

“Oh my god, Isaac.” Overnight, the garden had been filled with Moonlit Roses. Unlike regular roses, Moonlit Roses glowed under the moonlight – hence, their name. Werewolves often used them to express love, and because they were so unique, these flowers were also fairly expensive. To my knowledge, they cost at least a thousand dollars per bloom. And now I was staring at an entire garden filled with them, a breathtaking sea of velvet petals swaying gently in the breeze.

"Nоt hеrе, Rоѕе mу lоvе, іt wоuld be wrоng. Thіѕ рlасе seems ѕо рrіѕtіnе аnd рrіmаl. At night, іf уоu close your еуеѕ and соnсеntrаtе, уоu will sense a pure, роѕіtіvе аnd wild energy. A fоrсе іf уоu will, еmаnаtіng frоm thе grоund and соntаіnеd within the сіrсlе. Bеѕіdеѕ, we don't want tо оffеnd your ѕрrіtеѕ and ріxіеѕ." "Or your rabbit." Rоѕе оffеrеd kіѕѕіng my mouth аnd ѕmіlіng. "Dоn't believe me then, уоu іmреrtіnеnt v ixen. I wаnt you naked, ѕtrір." Aftеr Rоѕе ѕtrірреd, I рut hеr rеd ѕіlk ѕсаrf bасk оn her аgаіn as a blіndfоld.

She was a mystery, the only woman whose mind I couldn’t grasp, like the black rose that she was, the rare female humans who served the Vampires. Black Roses were the people we couldn’t compel to do our bidding. But they were loyal and their blood tasted good. As always, as Kate passed by the guests, she stood out. It was not because she was the only human among the blood-suckers in this party. It was the odd way she dressed herself. The Vampires were the ancient ones. Some, like me, had lived for hundreds of years. But no woman here had worn the clothes she wore, making her appear more ancient than the Vampires.

I give them to her. "I love roses but the fact you brought the red ones scores you another point in my book." she smells them. "Good to know that." I grin. "But you know you needn't have brought them anyway." she stares. "I wanted to." I reply. I was passing this flower shop when I saw these good looking roses. My mind immediately went to Della and I knew I had to get her a bouquet. "Okay. A minute, I need to put these in a vase." I wait for her from outside before she returns all set. We get inside the car and I fire the engine to the busy street.

My body trembles with fear and I have no idea how to process what I just saw. Felix’s face returns to normal before he looks away from me like he’s ashamed. I barely register Ivan before he’s beside me. “Rose, it’s okay. You’re safe.” I look at Ivan with pure terror on my face that makes him flinch. “How is this okay? Are you all fucking vampires?“ “Yes,” Paul says so calmly it makes me angry. How can he be so calm about all this? “We’ve been vampires since March twelfth 1753.”

The scent of roses clung to the air, thick and sweet, but there was nothing gentle in the garden where Serenya had been cast. The blossoms were not flowers at all—at least not natural ones. Their crimson petals shone faintly under moonlight, shimmering with a sheen like wet blood. Their thorns were long, curved like hooks, and when she reached too close to push aside a vine, it snapped forward, drawing a line of red across her wrist.

They want to dismantle the hierarchy of the entire wolf kind. "Who’s your contact?" I demand, stepping back. "How are you moving across borders unseen? Who’s feeding you intel?" He grins up at me, his teeth stained red. "The Rose." My heart hammers against my ribs. "What did you say?" "The Rose," he whispers, a look of reverence crossing his twisted face. "She blooms in the dark. She carries the scent of the garden and the poison of the grave. She opened the door for us." Wild roses.

The following night, the Crimson Rose mansion thrummed with dark anticipation. Every sister had gathered in the grand ritual chamber, twenty flawless lesbian vampires dressed in nothing but sheer crimson silk and black lace that barely covered their pale, perfect bodies. The air was thick with the scent of roses, candle wax, and fresh blood.