Shadows Of Desire
Awakening

The Above Image is Bhalor, the Bog Giant.

The moon shone brightly in the dark sky. The beautiful, round, fullness of the moon casting an iridescent glow on the ground below. It was midnight. The wolves ran the forests, howling their cries of freedom and glee as they did what wolves were meant to do. Their power at it’s peak. This was their time. The night belonged to the packs, to the children of the moon.

Not a vampire was in sight. The shops closed, the streets empty as everyone, man, woman, and child had returned safely to their homes. The only ones out were sentry’s and guards posted at look out towers throughout the city. The wolves haven’t attacked in decades but King Desmond took no chances. Not on a full moon. Not when the line between man and beast was hazy at best. If any vampire were found too close to the Wolfhaven boarder they would be killed on sight, ripped to shreds and left to bleed out, no hope of regenerating.

It was the perfect night for wolves, for tricksters, and Aos Si--the people of the mounds. The perfect time for fairy magic and for raising the dead. Under the shadow of night, Folen crept towards the tomb where Rowan slept. She touched the lock on the grate and watched as it opened, falling to the earth. Slowly, she slid the gate open and stepped inside. The door to the tomb would be harder to move. Her magic unsealed it easily but it was too heavy for her to move alone.

She waited only a moment before she saw movent to her right. The shadows parted and a man slowly stepped out to stand beside her. “Took ye long enough, Bhalor.” She frowned. “Ye were suppose to meet me here at midnight.”

“My apologies, my Lady.” Bhalor removed the hood from his head and knelt down on one knee before her. “I had a little trouble getting past a sentry near the east wall.”

Folen understood at once. Even with his concealing magic, Bhalor was a beast of a man. Standing nearly 7 feet with brawn that matched. His massive frame was hidden beneath a brown cloak but even with his magic, he was bulky and somewhat clumsy. He made too much noise tromping around with his massive boots.

She sniffed the air around him and grimaced. “No wonder.” She groused. “Ya didn’t conceal yer scent ya big oaf. Ya smell like swamp weed and muskgrass.”

Bhalor lifted one monstrous arm and sniffed. “Good for wardin off vamps.” He said with a grin.

Folen rolled her eyes. “Just move this bloody door.”

“Right away, madam.” His deep voice boomed in the darkness. Folen chided him for being too loud.

Folen stepped to the side as Bhalor moved to the door, looking it over for a second before grabbing it in both his massive hands and effortlessly pulled it open. Folen pushed him aside and entered the crypt, Bhalor following closely behind. Standing next to Rowan’s coffin, Folen motioned for Bhalor to remove the lid.

Taking hold of the wooden lid, Bhalor ripped it from the nails holding it in place. The lid splintered then cracked in half. He tossed it carelessly to the side, earning him another frustrated glance from Folen. “These vamps have sensitive hearing.” She snapped. “Could ye, possibly, try and not alert the whole guard that we are here?”

Bhalor shrugged. “Ya dinna employ me fer me gentleness, madam.”

“Just stand watch at the door.” She sighed.

Bhalor did as instructed and stood near the door, ready to fight anyone who might come through it.

Folen looked down at the sleeping Rowan laying against the white silk sheet spread out beneath him. She removed the shroud covering his face and laid a hand gently against his cheek. “I’ve come for ya, Lad. Just as I promised.” She reached into her robes and took out a smile vile with a glowing blue liquid inside. Removing the cork from the vile, she held the vile high so that the light of the full moon seeping through the tombs only window illuminated the vile causing the liquid within to glow brighter.

"Téann uisce drúcht na gealaí i dteagmháil le do bheola agus éireoidh sé as an nua.” She chanted in a whisper. Slowly, she brought the vile down and after using her free hand to part Rowan’s lips, she poured the contents of the vile into his mouth.

Bhalor held his breath and waited. Folen gripped the sides of the coffin, watching Rowan’s face for any change.

“It’s been too long.” Bhalor whispered, his voice nervous and full of worry. “Ya waited to long, I tell ya.”

“Hush now.” Folen scowled at him. “It’ll work. Trust me.”

The minutes ticked by and still they waited, the apprehension growing. Folen tapped her fingers on the side of the coffin as she glanced at the door again and again, fearing any moment that they could be caught. Then, when she was about to give up hope, she heard a small gasp coming from within the coffin.

She watched as a single finger twitched. Her breath hitched, then his hand jerked. His chest began to heave and fall and he let out a labored breath.

“Thought vamps didn’t breath.” Bhalor said, narrowing his eyes.

“This one’s special.” She whispered.

“Special, how?”

“Shh.” Folen held up a hand to him. “Quiet now, he’s wakin’ up.”

The tomb was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. The only sound that could be heard were the soft intakes of breath Rowan took as he emerged from his death like slumber. Slowly, he opened his eyes and with Folen’s help, managed to sit up enough to look around at his surroundings.

Everything seemed so strange. He blinked then rubbed his eyes. He saw Folen standing beside him, smiling down at him. For a brief moment it appeared as though her red hair was ablaze. As his eyes adjusted the illusion of flames faded and she was just Folen again. The Folen that he knew and loved.

Confusion overwhelmed him as he tried to remember what had happened. Last he knew he was in his room, laying on his bed, when he began to feel tired. More tired than he’d ever felt in his entire life. He lay his head against his pillow and thought, I’ll just rest here. Just a while. As soon as he closed his eyes though the black oblivion of sleep overtook him and he fell into a deep, uninterrupted, slumber.

How long had he slept? He wondered. This place, this was not his room, and he was not in his bed. As his fingers slid along the smooth wood surface of the coffin he realized immediately where he was.

“I’m in a tomb?” He asked, confused. “Am I dead?”

“No, love.” Folen told him. “You’ve been asleep is all. But, yer awake now.”

“He doesn’t remember what happened?”

“It’s the potion.” Folen said, speaking to another person in the room. “His memory will return soon. Give it time.”

Rowan looked up. He didn’t recognize the other voice. It was deep, masculine, and a bit intimidating. It had a rough, strong brogue to it, not the smooth, silky, and melodic tone of a vampire. His eyes moved around the room, slowly adjusting to the darkness until he caught sight of a figure standing near the opened doorway and he gasped.

The man was huge, towering over Folen. He was so tall that he had to lean over as to not hit his head on the ceiling. He had long brown hair and a busy brown beard though the ends of it were so red they could have been on fire. The man was dressed in dark browns and greens, earth tones and his clothes and body were covered by twigs, vines, and moss. He also had a very pungent odor that reeked of mustiness, dirt, and garlic.

The most unsettling thing about this man though were his eyes. His eyes were like two, red, glowing orbs of fire with a tiny, black pupil set in the center of the burning pools of light. Rowan let out a small squeak then placed his hand over his heart and scooted back against the head of the coffin, away from the fierce-some looking man.

Bhalor laughed a loud, booming laugh. “Look at that.” He chuckled. “A vamp, feared a’ me. Who’d a ever thought that?”

“Oh, quiet up, you great buffoon.” Folen narrowed her eyes. “The child ain’t never seen the likes a you a’fore. How’s he supposed to react?”

“W-what is he?” Rowan pointed to the monstrous man before him.

“Fathach portaigh si.” Folen answered, as if Rowan was supposed to know what that meant.

“A-a what?”

Bhalor rolled his eyes. “Bog giant.” He explained. “People of the bog.”

Rowan looked between Folen and Bhalor. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to make sense of what he was just told. “You’re...you’re a Fae?”

Again Bhalor laughed. “Never heard anyone call me a Fae a’fore but sure, yeah. But don’tcha be thinking I flit around with wings like pixies or sprites. Not all of us ‘Fae’ are harmless little bugs.” He took a step closer and Rowan cringed. “Some of us are monsters.” He growled and Rowan yelped.

“Bhalor!” Folen suddenly yelled at her companion. “We’re here to rescue this child, not scare ’em to death!”

Bhalor bowed, apologizing to Folen and Rowan both. “Just ‘aving a bit o’ fun with the Lad.” He chuckled. “Can’t fault me for that.”

“I can when yer job here is to protect ’em.” She glared. “Now Help him outta this box so we can get underway, before some vamp spots us and alerts the guard.”

***

Rowan tensed as the man called Bhalor carefully lifted him out of the coffin and stood him on the floor of the tomb. Bhalor was surprisingly tender with the boy despite his massive size. Still, the very presence of him felt intimidating to Rowan. He’d never been in the presence of a creature like him before. Most vampires were elegant, with an uncanny beauty and an aura of mystery. This man though, with his thick, broad, chest, and hulking muscles was barbaric in appearance and yet, Rowan couldn’t help but feel safe in his presence.

He wasn’t soft and nurturing the way Folen was. This man was strong and powerful. But the way he took such care with Rowan told him that the man had a gentler side to him as well. Rowan smiled. A gentle giant. That’s what he was. Folen touched his shoulder and he felt a wave of ease wash over him.

“It’s alright, Lad.” She assured him. “Bhalor may look like a brute but he’s a teddy bear, really.”

Rowan nodded and he started to relax. These people weren’t here to harm him, they were his salvation. If there was anyone within the Kingdom he could trust, it was Folen and Folen wouldn’t entrust Rowan to anyone she thought would hurt him.

Taking Folen’s outstretched hand, Rowan allowed the two to lead him from the tomb and out into the cool night air.

***

The howl of a wolf cut through the air making Rowan shiver. “W-what was that?” He asked, nervously.

“Just a were.” Folen answered, seemingly not concerned.

“As in, a werewolf?” Rowan stared at her, eyes wide in shock and terror.

“Aye, Lad. But no need to be concerned. They don’t attack Fae.”

“Yeah, but they do attack vampires.” Rowan cringed, moving closer to Folen’s side.

Bhalor chuckled. “Yer with us boi.” He said in the husky voice that Rowan was becoming more accustomed to now. “Ain’t no were gonna attack us, child.”

“Okay.” Rowan nodded, still shaking. “I trust you.” He glanced around the empty streets as they moved along the side of the tomb, inching their way along the wall. “They won’t come into the city though, right?”

“Nay.” Folen told him. “And there are guards posted to make sure none cross the border.”

“Good.” Rowan breathed a breath of relief. He was safe, for now. It was when they reached the city’s border that worried him most though. Once they were past the safety of the city walls, what would stop any of the creatures beyond the gates of Basmorte from attacking him? Vampires had the most enemies of all the other species and being the son of the vampire King made Rowan a target.

“Everyone thinks yer dead.” Folen reminded him, as though reading his mind. “I’m sure word has already spread to the other realms. Just keep her head down and yer mouth shut and ye should be safe.”

“Old King Desmond’s kept the boi so isolated I’d be surprised if anyone even recognized him anyway.” Bhalor cut in. “He ain’t got a face known to many. Probably why the King kept him hidden away like e’ did.”

Rowan sighed. “My father kept me hidden away because he was ashamed of me.” He told the giant man. “If it weren’t for the council, he would have thrown me to the wolves himself. Literally. The man hates me...hated me.” He corrected himself suddenly realizing that his father too thought he was dead. A small smile played across his lips. Everyone in Basmorte thought he was dead. Probably the neighboring realms as well.

He should have been sad about that but he wasn’t. In fact, he couldn’t be happier. Not only was he out from under his father’s rule but now he would no longer be associated with his father’s tyranny. He was finally free, and freedom tasted sweeter than he had ever expected. The only thing worried him now was what was going to happen once they left the vampire realm. Rowan had never been away from Basmorte. How was he going to survive on his own, alone in a strange world? He sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He’d worry about that bridge when they crossed it. For now, his main concern was escaping the city undetected.

Bhalor took the lead, stopping at the end of their path to look down the road, checking for sentry’s on patrol. When he was sure it was clear, he motioned for the others to follow. They quickly ran across the street to a darkened ally between two tall buildings. They pressed themselves up against the brick wall of what smelled like a tavern to Rowan. Looking up, he saw candle light flicking in a few of the windows above them but the tavern itself seemed quiet and empty. The people hidden inside against the possible threat of an attack from the wolves in the surrounding forests.

Rowan had always wanted to walk the city streets, to see the inhabitants of his father’s kingdom going about their nightly tasks. He would have loved to have spent the night in an inn or tasted the ale in one of the local taverns. He would never get that chance though but he tried not to let it bother him. He had the rest of his life to experience the things he’d always dreamed of. He could picture himself, living in a tiny cottage somewhere. He’d have a small garden, maybe some chickens. No horses. He hated horses. But, maybe he could even have a pet cat. He loved cats though his father had never allowed him one. Yes, he would definitely get a cat.

It would be a different sort of life. No more servants. He’d have to learn to hunt, and he’d have to cook for himself, grow his own foods, and be self sufficient but he could do it. He’d be proud to do it. Proud to prove that he could take care of himself. he was an omega after all and things like cooking and cleaning or tending a garden should come natural to him. Omega’s were known to be excellent home makers, nurturing and caring. And, even though he’d never really been allowed to lift a finger for himself, Rowan had no doubt that he could eventually learn the skills he needed to survive. He’d try at least. He owed himself that much. He wasn’t as useless as his father had thought and one way or another, he’d prove the old man wrong.

The trio ducked in and out of ally ways, hiding between the buildings until they came to a row of houses on the poorer side of the city. The run down shacks were smaller, some of them falling apart, and there was an awful odor of trash and rot mixed with the stench of sewage. Rowan held a hand over his nose as they walked past a small stable. Rowan jumped as a horse inside the stable neighed and shuffled around, probably sensing his presence.

“Quiet beast.” Bhalor growled at the animal when the horse stuck it’s head out of a stall door and huffed. “Don’t know what’s got ’em so worked up. Not like he ain’t seen a vamp before.”

“The boi’s scent is unfamiliar.” Folen explained. “The horse don’t recognize it and it’s makin’ ’em nervous.”

Bhalor leaned towards Rowan and sniffed him. “He smells like a vamp to me.”

“Then yer senses are off, ya clout. Too much swamp rot in yer nose.”

Bhalor shrugged then took another whiff. “Maybe, something’s different, like something floral. Just figured it was him being an omega. Never smelt one of them before.”

Rowan blushed listening to the two discussing his scent. No one’s ever said that he smelled like anything but a vampire so it was news to him. He pulled the black cloak that Folen had given him closer around his body, hiding into it. Bhalor smirked, watching him.

“Yer making ’im uncomfortable.” Folen sneered, her protective nature taking over as she pulled Rowan closer to her. “Dinna anyone ever teach ya how to act around royalty? Don’t be so disrespectful.”

“It’s fine.” Rowan tried to protest, looking down at the ground, feeling flushed and embarrassed. “I’m just not used to people...taking an interest. I’ve been mostly ignored most of my life.”

Folen gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and smiled at him. “You’ll be grateful for that now.” She told him. “Easier to hide that way.”

Rowan nodded. He supposed that was true. Once he left Basmorte he would no longer be Rowan Rochfort, son of the feared vampire King. He’d have to choose a new identity for himself. Become a new man. He only saw one problem with that though. How could he hide who he truly was without isolating himself from the rest of the world? He was, as far as he knew, the only omega vampire in existence. He felt all his hopes of a happy and fulfilling life suddenly dashed. In order to keep his true identity a secret, he’d have to spend the rest of his life alone.

Moving through the city undetected was easy compared to trying to get past the sentry’s guarding the east gate. The houses thinned out leaving less places to hide.

“Stick to the shadows like I taught ya.” Folen whispered.

“Can’t he shape shift or something?” Bhalor asked. “Would be easier to sneak ’im out.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes at the man. “I’m nineteen years old.” He grumbled. “It takes centuries to master that skill.”

Bhalor shrugged. “Don’t spend enough time around vamps to know that.”

“Quiet.” Folen frowned. “As soon as that guard leaves the tower to patrol, we got ten minutes before he returns.” She pointed to the guard standing at the top of the tower towards the edge of the forest, a cross bow in his hands ready to shoot at anything that tried to breach the perimeter.

Bhalor nodded, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. At once the shadows swirled around, concealing him in darkness. Rowan watched in amazement as the man disappeared. He could still hear his heavy breathing and smell the scent of moss that clung to the man but he couldn’t see him. Folen nodded to Rowan and told him to pull up his hood as well then he and she both melted into the shadows.

Once the guard was out of sight, Folen grabbed Rowan’s hand and the three of them made a dash across the field to a dilapidated barn about three hundred feet from their current location. The sprint was easy for Rowan given his natural speed. It was also quite thrilling as he’d never really been allowed to run like that before. The open air and the wind whipping past was exhilarating. It was an odd feeling that the most fun he’d ever had was in doing something so dangerous as fleeing the place he’d once called home. The danger seemed but a fleeting thought in his mind as he ran towards freedom. He’d remember this moment for the rest of his life.

Folen had no trouble keeping pace with Rowan. Even Bhalor with his immense size seemed to move with ease. Rowan had no idea that Fae could move at such speeds but then again, he had no idea that he could either. He knew vampire’s were fast. Faster than humans. The only beings he knew that could match the speed of a vampire were wolves and dragons. But still, having never had the chance to test his skill personally, he’d never dreamed that he could move so quickly, and so fluidly through the darkness, watching the world flash by in a blur. It was like flying.

There were so many things that he had never been allowed to do, so many experiences lost on him. But now he at least knew that he was capable of so much more than he’d even realized. With this realization brought a touch of anger as he realized just how much his father had taken from him in not allowing him to hone his skills. So much training missed out on, a meager education not near enough to prepare him for life outside the palace walls. Had his father meant to keep him locked away forever, dependent on others for his entire life? Probably.

As his father had told him many times before, an omega was worthless without a mate. His only use was in spreading his legs for whoever his father had chosen as a spouse for him.

"Your only place in life is to bear young and look pretty.” His father had once told him. ”So, pray to the Gods that you can bear strong sons for your future husband because as looks go, you’re nothing special. You’ll be lucky if I can even replace someone willing to take you as a mate.”

Of course that someone had been Lord Killian. Rowan sneered at the thought. His father knew the kind of man he was. He had to have. And yet, he was willing to give him his only son just to be rid of him. He never cared if Rowan was happy, he didn’t worry if he’d be safe, or treated well. He probably knew that Rowan would be abused and forced to bear the Lord countless offspring until his womb gave out rendering Rowan useless to his husband but Desmond didn’t care.

He never cared. From the moment Rowan was born his father had rejected him and that was the one thing that hurt the most. He never had his father’s love. Just because he was born an omega. He’d been rejected and his mother had been rejected, forced to leave the palace and live in shame. That rejection was what had killed his mother. He was certain of it now. She, like him, had only wanted the King’s love and when it was denied her, she fell into deep despair and lost the will to live. Rowan began to wonder if the man was even capable of love or if he was simply the monster that everyone seemed to think he was.

They had reached the barn in no time flat and once inside the three of them removed their hoods, breaking the illusion. Rowan at once saw a horse and cart waiting for them. The horse reared up, nervously, as Rowan came near it.

“Whoa, easy gal.” Bhalor said, stroking the horses mane to comfort her. “He’s a vamp but he ain’t no threat to ya.” Once Bhalor calmed the mare, he climbed up onto the wooden bench of the cart. “Best hurry.” He nodded to Folen.

Folen turned to Rowan and smiled a sad smile as she looked at him with tears in her eyes. “This is where I leave ya, child. But yer in good hands.”

Rowan shook his head, his own tears falling now. “No, please. Come with us. I can’t bear the thought of leaving you here, unprotected.”

Folen touched his face. “Sweet boi, you need not fear for me. I’ll be fine. But nay, child. I can’t leave. Not when my children need me.”

Rowan looked confused. “You have children? You never told me. Where are they?”

“All Fae are my children.” She told him. “And while there are so many held captive here, in need of my help, I can’t leave. One day, I hope to free them all but now, I help those I can when I can. One freed Fae is worth more than my own freedom.”

Rowan looked down, suddenly ashamed. “And yet you saved me. A vampire. The son of your enemy. The son of the man who enslaves your kind and yet, you have been so loving to me. I do not deserve your love.”

Folen’s smile faded as she stared at Rowan with an intensity that frightened him. “Now, you listen to me Rowan Morgan Rochfort,” for the first time Rowan can remember Folen used his full name. “You are not yer father and you are not responsible for the evils that he has done. And yes, ya may be of vampire blood but ye, child, are so much more than that. In time, ya will come to understand yer true worth and yer true purpose in this world. For now, though, that is all I can tell ya, but for this. I have loved ya since the day ya was born and will continue to love ya until I draw me last breath and ye, my child, are worthy of every bit of my love. Never, ever forget that. You, are so loved.”

Rowan suddenly reached out and drew Folen into a tight embrace, sobbing against her wild, red hair. “I love you...mother.” He whispered through his tears. “I hope to God one day we meet again.”

“Aye, child. We shall.” She hugged him back then gently kissed his cheek. “Now, I’m sorry fer this, but tis necessary.” She reached into the bag that hung from her belt and pulling out a glob of something that looked like black mud and smelled like dung, quickly, she smeared it across Rowan’s face while reciting something in a language that Rowan had never heard.

At once the substance on his face began to burn. Rowan cringed from the pain but it quickly subsided as his face began to grow taunt, the skin tightened and became hard and rough. His hands twisted, fingers grew long, resembling claws and his skin turned into something that was more like tree bark than flesh. His hair, once long and black became green like moss.

“The effects won’t last long.” Folen told him. “Maybe an hour. But it’s long enough to get ya past the guards at the gate.” She then covered him in a cloak made of lichen and grass. It was heavy and smelled musty. Rowan sniffed it then scrunched his nose and gagged.

Bhalor laughed. “Smells bad but will cover that vamp stench ya got.”

“Thanks.” Rowan groaned, not sure if he should be offended or not. He climbed up onto the cart and sat beside Bhalor and for the first time in his life, he didn’t scare the wits out of the horse.

“Good luck, Lad.” Folen told him. “Now remember, keep your head down and let Bhalor do that talkin’.”

Rowan nodded. “Do you really think I can do this?” He asked, unsure of himself. “I’ve never been on my own before.”

Folen smiled at him. “I know ye kin do it, love. I have faith in ya. Ye just need to have faith in yerself.”

Rowan smiled. “Thank you, for everything. I owe you my life.”

“No need to thank me, yer Highness. It was a pleasure to serve ya all these years.” And then, for the first time ever, Folen bowed in reverence to the Prince before her.

“Goodbye.” Rowan said with a tear in his eye. “Until we meet again.”

“Farewell, Child.” She said, then, turning to Bhalor. “You keep ’im safe.”

Bhalor nodded before taking up the reigns and ordering the mare to go. Rowan held onto the side of the cart as it jerked forward and a moment later, they were free of the barn and driving towards the east gate, leaving Basmorte and all that Rowan had ever known, behind them.