Steeling Amethyst

Screw the rich.

And not the good kind of screw.

Pockets lined by corruption, outrageously priced possessions collected on the blood of the innocent and pompously raised noses to peer domineeringly down on the lesser folk. Oh, what excellent prey the wealthy were.

They were to be bullied and stolen from. They were to be the victims of Karma.

Take. From. The rich.

That was Thoran’s motto and he would die by it. They had enough money to wipe their arseholes with, anyway. They wouldn’t miss a buck or two. So, to make sure they did miss it, Thoran took at least a million times that amount.

Today, he would take this castle. He wouldn’t ask for it nor did he care who owned it, although, considering the neighbouring kingdom, he could guess what kind of person the owner was. Knowing how deserving such people were of losing their most treasured possessions, he craved taking their castle even more. Consequences? Please. Thoran Steel was the embodiment of consequence.

The punisher of sinners. King of Barbarians.

He moved slowly across the shadowy room, each heavy step bringing him closer to a closet. Casually, he flexed the knuckles of his large fist. Pushing open the closet doors, he discovered a mirror and quietly glowered at his own face in the reflection.

Cold, grey eyes glared at him, a mean face staring back from the mirror. A stray lock of black hair fell across his forehead and brushed against his cheek. Shoving it back up, he squeezed it into the metal cuff that held his long hair together.

He shut the closet door and looked around the room. This castle would do. The rooms that he’d already checked were big enough, good enough. Not that it mattered.

His men were tougher than the claws on a dragon and would sleep like the dead on the rocky bank of a filthy river. Still, today, Thoran wanted them to dive into the luxury of a castle. They deserved the treat.

He turned around and headed for the door, his dirty black boots leaving muddy trails behind him. From what he’d seen, the place was empty. He might’ve had the momentary wish of finding some unfortunate and unsuspecting rich pomp in here so he could sling him into his next life.

Fortunately for any would-be rich pomps, his searching gaze found none.

Thoran strolled through the castle, casually peering into various rooms. There was not a person in sight. Perhaps the place was abandoned? How disappointing. That would negate the fun of taking from the rich.

Standing on the upstairs landing, he glanced downstairs at the glossy floor of the parlour. The entire place was decked out in gold, silver and jewels. It probably belonged to some miserable fop who was obsessed with displaying his riches.

A rough sigh parted his lips as he turned to leave. He had things to do. He had to go clear camp and get the men into the castle for the night—

Thoran abruptly halted, tilting his head to pinpoint the source of a distant sound that had reached his ears. The castle enveloped him in silence, as still as a tomb. He didn't doubt that he'd heard something; he simply wished to hear it again and confirm its location, eliminating the need for a search. The sound of his boots could alert his prey and Thoran didn't want to miss out on a fun time.

Just as he’d hoped, the sound came again, a low thump coming from straight ahead of him.

His eyes narrowed. He could’ve sworn the castle was empty. Apparently not. It seemed there was an unfortunate, rich pomp around after all.

Rolling his shoulder, he let a dagger slide out of his sleeve and into his palm.

What a pity it was that he’d have to make a mess in their brand-new castle.

Amethyst was late!

Racing out of the bathroom and dashing across her bedchamber, the princess squeaked as she suddenly tripped and went flying through the air before crashing onto the floor.

Her hand flew to her chest, protectively clutching the gem that rested against her heart as she curled up with a groan of pain. Dragging in a huge breath, she stared at the floor with wide green eyes. Oh, thank God, she was still alive.

The fact was shocking, considering how often she endangered the gemstone that kept her heart beating.

Her head snapped up, eyes staring at her dressing room with determination. There was no time for this. Her sisters had gone ahead without her, she had to get a move on if she wanted to make it to the pre-celebrations on time!

Having made sure her gemstone was unscratched, she got up and ran quickly into the dressing room.

Dressing without a single handmaiden to help was the pits of hell. Her arms ached from pulling and tugging on each piece of her outfit, but she kept at it. She had to make an actual effort to maintain her social life. She’d spent so many years bedridden; she’d be damned if she missed a single chance to go out and have fun.

Amie wasn’t sure she would escape a scalding scolding from her eldest sister if she went, considering that the party was in an entirely different kingdom. Her sisters considered her too unwell to walk to the garden, much less to travel to another kingdom alone.

She scoffed, struggling to pull on the strings of her corset. Her second eldest sister, Milana, had sent the servants away for the weekend but called them back, assuming that Amie would be staying home unwell. But the random bout of weakness had suddenly passed and Amethyst had immediately told the servants to not return. She’d done it in secret, knowing her sisters wouldn’t have believed her if she’d suddenly claimed to feel better. They would’ve thought she was only pretending to feel better so she could attend the festivities in Zaire. Now that they were gone, she too, could prepare to head out. If she just showed up, they wouldn’t be able to force her to stay in bed and “rest”.

That was why the castle was empty and Amie was rushing about the dressing room. Her plans had left her no one to help with her garments, but that wouldn’t stop her! She’d be damned if a difficult bit of fabric would get in her way, even if that bit of fabric had abs of steel and bulging leather muscles. Her corset was a force to be reckoned with.

Still, she would not stay home, she refused to let her body stop her from having fun. She’d go to the celebrations in Zaire, no matter what.

Luckily for her, the Alpha king of Zaire, her beloved treasure of a brother-in-law had agreed to secretly send one of his guards to fetch her. Hopefully, that would be enough to silence her sisters when they started their scolding.

She groaned, blowing swaying whisps of brown hair out of her face as she battled with the dress, only a few items away from being completely dressed.

Anyway, it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate her sisters’ concern, it was just that Amethyst was much stronger than they all thought. Everyone thought she was so weak and sickly that she’d fall apart if she jumped an inch off the ground. She was a Vampire Viking, for crying out loud! She still had her abilities and powers, even if they weren’t as developed as those of her peers.

It was insufferable, really. People only ever treated her one of two different ways. If they weren’t overly concerned about her health, they acted like they could walk all over her. They thought she couldn’t fight back.

They were right, she couldn’t.

Not a bone in her body knew how to handle a sword, but it was fine! Amie wasn’t deterred. All the years she’d spent in bed, reading or sewing, had made her an excellent storyteller and the best seamstress she’d ever seen by far.

If she wanted to, she could simply learn how to fight and be just as strong as any other Vampire Viking in their kingdom. But she wouldn’t! She wouldn’t let them pressure her into trying to prove herself.

Her family couldn’t help but worry about her because they’d nearly lost her on several occasions, which she could understand and tolerate. It was people who very subtly tried to bully Amethyst that she had a problem with. The snobbish people in the elite social groups of the kingdoms of Gadon and Zaire. They all made her want to stay in her bedroom and never leave, but Amie refused to be controlled that way.

It was frustrating that she couldn’t give as good as she got, though. Her mother always said that, as a princess, Amethyst was to keep her composure and not lose to the jibes she had to suffer. The whispered snickers and taunting looks, she had to take it all with a beautifully, royally gracious smile… Stuff it!

Being a princess stank.

Soon, she’d gotten to the age where she didn’t have to follow her mother’s teachings so dedicatedly anymore, but that’s when Amie discovered that she didn’t have the ability to growl back at people who passively tormented her. She couldn’t bring herself to make a scene over how someone treated her when it really wasn’t a big deal. The thought of complaining or standing up for herself and thereby making everyone uncomfortable just kept her silent, she didn’t want to be the one ruining the mood of every social gathering she attended. Enough to make her stay at home, wasn’t it? Over her dead body!

Yes, she was born frail but, despite her weaker body, she had guts and a strong mentality! Why wasn’t that as appreciated as physical strength? Additionally, it was years ago that her gemstone was brought back to her, she was much stronger now than when she’d been little and sickly-

The door burst open.

“King of Gadon!” she blurted, jumping away as she clutched her chest. Amethyst stared at the doorway and the absolute mountain of a man that stood there, her mouth open in shock.

His roughly handsome face hardened with an expression of mild disgust, his grey eyes slightly widening as though he was equally surprised to see her there. But she lived here, thought Amie. He was the one who was as out of place as a goat in the middle of the sea.

She tried to speak, but the words got caught in her throat, only a fraction of a syllable making it out.

His body didn’t move an inch but his head slowly tilted at her, a deep frown on his face.

“Uhm…” she started shakily. “Who in the land of the forefathers… are you??”

He stared at her.

Amethyst gasped. “Oh. Oh! You’re the guard! You came from the kingdom of Zaire, right? To fetch me!”

His eyes narrowed.

Sighing, Amie grabbed her ribbon off the dresser and marched over to him. “Look, you don’t just march into a lady’s chambers like that! Startled me out of my wits, but since you’re here and I haven’t any maids about, why don’t you make yourself useful? Do a good job and I won’t tell your king about your lack of manners.”

She grabbed his arm and tugged him across the room, missing the way his eyes stared darkly at her slim, fair hand wrapped around the tanned, thick circumference of his wrist.

She stopped him near the dresser and turned around before him to face the mirror. “The corset, please. Just tug on those two black ribbons before you and then tie them.”

Thunderous grey eyes stared at her face in the mirror. Amie frowned in mild confusion at the imposing man. “Well? What are you waiting for?”