Beast: A Faery Story, First Person Special Edition

Chapter One

Dante

The Vampire Plane

I watch my family and friends as they stare at the floor-to-ceiling projection from the comfortable seats of Dellacorp’s media room. The room is normally used for conferences, but my mother has gone all out for this party. There are freaking flowers and a champagne station. It’s a lot, but I’m worried no one will want to celebrate at the end of the show. My whole family, a large group of our friends, and several key members of the corporation are rapt with attention, watching everything happening on this final episode of the most popular DL in the States.

I try not to laugh at the image of myself pondering the decision I’m about to make. The producers made sure I thought about the intensely important life decision I was making via reality television in various states of undress. During filming, I spent an awful lot of time with my shirt off, but I have to admit, I look good in a tux, too. The reality TV me stands at the edge of a lovely, romantic pond, surrounded by greenery and flowers, waiting for the helicopters that will bring the two final women.

I really should have thought this through. At the time it seemed like it would be kind of a funny story, but my parents are taking this shit way too seriously.

I down a long drink of Scotch as I watch the drama play out. I hope the alcohol will relax me fairly quickly. I didn’t have much of an appetite. I desire neither a meal pill nor an actual warm-blooded dinner. My gut is not in a good place. On an empty stomach, the Scotch should work fast. I have the feeling I’m going to need a good buzz once my parents see the way the final stock ceremony ends.

On the high-definition screen, the luxury helicopter lands and a gorgeous vampire steps out, showing off her long legs and perfect figure. She wears a designer gown and looks like a woman on a mission. Veronica. Even her name makes me shiver.

“I knew it.” Susan practically shouts at the screen. My big sister is a high-octane, type-A version of myself, right down to her red-and-gold hair and green eyes.

My sister didn’t like Veronica at all. It was a mistake to put two alpha females in the same room together. They practically had a knock-down, drag-out when I brought Veronica home to meet the family. The producers were thrilled. It makes for excellent television.

“They always dump the first one,” Susan says with a vicious fist pump. “Take that, bitch! I knew my brother would pick the consort.”

Susan’s husband, Colin, gives his wife an affectionate pat. He nods Dante’s way. “Thank you. She would be impossible to live with if you brought that one home again.”

My mother, Alana Dellacourt, dabs at her eyes, crying slightly. It makes me nauseous at the thought of disappointing her. Her manicured hands come out to pat my shoulders. “I knew you would make the right choice. The consort is lovely. I can’t wait to begin planning the wedding. I know you’re contractually obligated to stay apart from Sheila until after the final airing, but I wish she could have been here. I can’t wait to welcome her into our family.”

On the screen, Veronica is rolling her eyes and vowing corporate vengeance. Her long red nails remind me of talons. She actually scared the crap out of me. I was afraid to dump her before the final ceremony. More than one corporate war has been started because of this particular series.

My father, Don, walks up behind me and gives me a hearty pat on the back. I can feel the satisfaction coming off him in waves. “I didn’t think this was a good idea. Your mother had to convince me this wouldn’t ruin our corporate image. Playing around in hot tubs is no way to find a wife, I say. You should have done what your cousins did. You should have bought a consort at the marketplace. Still, I like Sheila. You did good, son.”

A loud snort comes from the back of the room. I glance up and see the aforementioned twin cousins sitting in the small crowd with their market-bought wife between them. Six months of marriage has only brought the three of them closer together. Cian, the more sarcastic of the two, watches the screen raptly. It doesn’t stop him from making his opinion plain.

“I think you’re all crazy,” Cian says, his musical Fae accent filled with humor. “Do any of you know Dante? Seriously? I bet you all a thousand gold that he dumps them both.”

“Shut up, you bastard,” Beckett Finn says, slapping at his brother playfully. “You don’t have a thousand gold.”

“He won’t need it. Let him make the bet,” Meg Finn pronounces, her eyes narrowing on Dante. “He dumps them both.”

On the screen, a second helicopter is setting down on the top floor of one of the most luxurious high-rises in Manhattan. I was happy the producers of the DL chose to film the end in New York rather than my own hometown of Dallas. Romantic music plays. Sheila, a consort from the Faery plane with an amazing backstory to go along with her sweet good looks, gets out of the helicopter. Her face beams as she looks up at me.

I have to give it to her, she’s an excellent actress.

“I’ll take that bet, Cian,” my father replies, his voice thick with pride. “There’s no way my son lets a consort that beautiful get away. She saved twenty children from the civil war. She’s a healer and a philanthropist. She’s everything a vampire could want in a consort. Sheila reminds me of my wife. She’s quiet and elegant. She’s a true lady.”

“Now, you see editing can really change a person’s perception. They leave out all the bitchy parts.” I tug at my collar. Is it hot in here? It feels really hot.  

Sheila read far too much of her own press material. She’s stuck-up. When the cameras weren’t rolling, she barely talked to me except to ask about my cousins. She was interested in the true kings of the Seelie Fae. Not so much in me.

It doesn’t matter. I know what’s coming. At the time, it seemed like a funny adventure. I didn’t expect everyone to get caught up in it. I certainly didn’t expect my parents to get invested in a made-for-DL relationship.

My sister stands, glaring my way. Her mouth thins as she studies me, and I feel five years old again. When Susan wants to get judgey,
she does it with everything she has. “You asshole! Ci’s right. You dumped both women. How could you?”

I point to the screen where the quiet, demure consort is slapping me silly, completely forgetting that oath she took to do no harm. She pushes me back until I fall ass-first into the romantic koi pond that would make an awesome place to propose had I actually fallen in love with someone. “Does that look quiet and elegant? They don’t show you the fact that she tried to throw one of the cameras in that pond with me. She tried to electrocute me. And they totally made her look like she wouldn’t put out in the fantasy suite, but she did.”

Susan gasps. “You slept with her?”

I shrug. It should be obvious. I spent six weeks shooting a reality DL. What the hell else did I have to do? “I slept with all of them, sis. Haven’t you read the tabloids? My point is she’s nothing like mother. Mother would never try to electrocute a man.”

My mom stands, her gray eyes stormy as she stares my way. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. You wouldn’t like what’s going through my head right now. I have to make sure my clothes are ready for tomorrow’s luncheon. I will have many questions to answer. The Malones are coming over. Their JT recently married a consort, a lovely woman from the Earth plane named Dana. I thought I would be able to announce your engagement, too.”

The Malones run a rival corporation. My mother and Ava Malone are friendly but deeply competitive. It will bother Mom to have to listen to Ava rave over her son’s new consort. She brings herself up to her full regal height and saunters out of the room with dignity.

The room is buzzing all around me as many of the corporate attendees follow my mother out. Some stop to shake my father’s hand, their sympathy utterly apparent. Damn, I am truly fucked. I’m going to have to charm the hell out of my parents.

Susan follows our mother, giving me a look that makes me take a step back.

“Man-whore,” she accuses as she stalks past me. Like I said. Judgey. And a little hurtful.  

Colin hurries to catch up, but not before throwing me a slightly sympathetic look.

“We’re breaking up?” Cian asks, sounding disappointed. “But I wanted to watch the episode where all the women yell at each other. It’s my favorite part. I still can’t believe they found twenty females who would actually fight each other to date Dante.”

His lovely wife takes his hand. She seems to understand that the evening has taken a distinctly bad turn. “Come on, baby. We’ll watch it in our room.”

Beckett stands with them. I can’t miss the way he slides his hand playfully across his wife’s curves. Beckett Finn is a happy man. Beckett Finn is a man who isn’t about to get his ass chewed out.

I sigh as the Finns leave, and I’m alone with my father. The room, which was alive and full moments before, is now as quiet as a tomb. Someone has been smart enough to turn off the sound, but the video is still running. It plays pictures of me and the women I turned down one after another.

Yep. That’s never going away.

My stomach sinks as I look at my dad. I love the man, I truly do. But I don’t understand him most of the time. Donald Dellacourt took Dellacorp from a small-time cattle farm to one of the largest conglomerates on the plane. A few years back, he handed over the daily operations to Susan. I don’t blame him. Susan is a better CEO. I wish my father could see that I have something to provide, too.

Like tabloid scandals and a constant stream of mistresses.

“This is the end, son.” My father doesn’t yell. It’s a bad sign. Donald Dellacourt is a larger-than-life man. He yells. He screams. It almost never means anything. When he’s quiet, that’s when I know I’m in trouble.

“The end of what?” I hear the irritation in my voice. It’s a typical reaction. I’ve never been one to take punishment well. “I’m thirty years old, Dad. You can’t send me to my room.”

“I can kick you out of your room.”

I swallow once, and then twice. He’s joking. He isn’t actually going to kick me out of my home. This is beyond bad. “You can’t be serious.”

My father pours a couple of fingers of Scotch and takes a long swallow. “I am deadly serious. By your age, I had already founded a company, married your mother, and we had Susan. I’ve given you all the time you need to mature, and you keep acting like an idiot. Tomorrow morning, you’re going to be utterly reviled in the press.”

He’s worried about that? I’ve weathered many a scandal. “They’ll find a new story the day after. It’s not a problem, Dad. I’ll go down to the surface and pose with poor children. I’ll donate some meal pills to the homeless shelters. It’ll blow over.”

My father brings his fist down on the bar, making the crystal shake. “It will not blow over! It won’t blow over for me or your mother or your sister. All of your life you’ve had everything given to you. You went to the best schools. You’ve always had the best money could buy. You never have to go to the surface for anything but a photo op. I lived on the surface, son. It’s harsh, but it makes a man out of you. If I don’t do something about it, you’ll stay a boy the rest of your life. I don’t want that for you.”

I don’t like where this conversation is going. I have plans, big plans. Plans that do not involve getting cut off from my inheritance.

Six months before, something amazing fell into my lap, and I’m close to a major breakthrough. “Dad, give me three more months. The sunscreen Meg brought back is going to sell like gangbusters. The bio-med guys almost have it reverse engineered. There are some compounds in it that don’t naturally occur on this plane, but we’ll make it work.”

My father sighs. He suddenly looks wearier than I can ever remember seeing him. “I have no doubt that the chemists can make it work. Don’t try to sell this as some big job. Meggie gave you the sunscreen, and you passed it off to the bio-med team. It doesn’t make you a businessman. You spend far more time partying than you do in the office.”

Humiliation flashes through my system. Everyone discounts me. Even my own family. “How about all the marketing research I’ve done? I can sell this. I can make this our biggest seller within a year. I’ve done the financials. Sunscreen tech can be the most profitable arm of Dellacorp within five years. Bio-med has been our weak point. I can make us a leader in the market.”

My father looks far past his sixty-five years as he shakes his head. His anger seems spent, replaced with something I can only term as disappointment. “No. You’re off the sunscreen project. You’ll bring too much bad publicity. It’s best if you take a break. I’ll make you a deal. Get married, and I’ll let you back in. A wedding would mollify the stockholders. They’ll think you’re finally settling down. Look what happened to Malone Corp when JT married his consort. Might I add, she was pregnant at the time and it wasn’t his kid. Poor thing got hauled off the Earth plane in a delicate condition and JT stepped up to the plate and made his family proud. Got some great PR, too. You know the more I think about it, the more I like this plan.”

“I don’t want to get married.” Even when I accepted the DL gig, I knew I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s husband. I’m barely thirty. I’m still a kid. Maybe JT is ready to be someone’s dad, but the thought horrifies me.

My father shrugs and scrubs a hand across his face. “Then I would start looking for a job, son. You have a business degree. I made sure of it.”

My father walks out, leaving me stunned in his wake. On the screen behind me, the women are beginning to shout at each other.

I slump into the first chair I find, utterly shocked at the events of the evening.

This was a stupid idea. I should never have gone on that dumb show. It was a reaction to my cousins’ happiness. I know my father will never believe it, but I’m jealous of what Beck and Ci found with their bondmate. Meg is a hell of a woman. She’s tough and funny, and I genuinely like her as a person. I’ve never met anyone as interesting as Megan Finn. I doubt I ever will. How am I supposed to get married when I’m half in love with my cousins’ wife?

I was looking for a connection. I can lie to everyone, but I know the truth deep down. I didn’t find it. I probably never will. And my father sure as hell can’t force it on me.

Something wicked and angry takes up residence in my gut.

If I can’t have love, I can have the next best thing. I pull out my tablet and dial up my latest mistress. I’m sure my father would disapprove, but I need to let off some steam.

Two hours later, I let my head rest against the back of the chair as Amanda King teases the head of my dick with her talented tongue.

“He seriously expects you to get married?” She emphasizes the “you” part. The question vibrates against the sensitive skin of my cock.

I take a long swallow of Scotch. I know I probably look every bit the decadent, care-for-nothing no-good my father portrayed me as. I’m sitting in my mistress’s suite, which I pay for, drinking and letting her pleasure me. The worst part is the fact that while my cock is engaged, my fangs haven’t popped out yet. I’m distracted. Or getting old.

Maybe I really should think about taking a consort. JT Malone seems happy with his. It would chill my dad out. “I got a lecture about how marriage can settle a man down. He threw the Malones in my face. Again.”

“You know I heard that he married a chick from the Earth plane, but the twist was it was the same girl he grew up with on this plane,” Amanda murmurs against my cock. “It was one of those mirror things. Except the girl he grew up with died when they were teens and then this one showed up and he lost his mind. I wonder if I’m out there somewhere.”

I don’t even want to think about it. Meg told me there is another version of me on the plane she came from. I think about him sometimes. I’m probably living it up on the Earth plane, and no one tells me what to do. It’s probably paradise.

Then Amanda runs her tongue from the base of my balls to the crown of my cock, and I’m not thinking much anymore. She is extremely good at giving head. What right does my father have to tell me I’m useless simply because I like to party and keep a mistress? Welcome to the world of a wealthy royal vampire. Everyone did it. I work hard. Sometimes. Don’t I deserve to play? Besides, I consider myself something of a mentor to my mistress. Amanda is a young woman trying to put herself through school without the aid of family or corporate funds. It’s a given in their society that she find a wealthy patron to help her. If she was born in a royal line, I would never have touched her, but Amanda is a lovely peasant girl. She knows the score. I can never marry a peasant. It will be a royal or a consort for me.

Even if she was a royal, I wouldn’t consider her. Amanda is all right, but I don’t love her. And she sure as hell doesn’t love me. I suspect she doesn’t like royals at all.

My father was born a royal, but one without money. My father pulled his entire family off the surface with willpower and intelligence. I’m never going to live up to my father.

“Have I lost you?” Amanda stares up, her brown eyes questioning. Her hands are on my thighs. I didn’t even notice when she stopped.
What’s wrong with me?

I shake my head and stroke her hair. She’s a sweet girl, and she’s good to me in her own way. I don’t want her to feel insecure. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. My mind is on the problem. Don’t stop. I need this tonight.”

She winks up and lowers her head, talking as she presses kisses along my cock. “You know all the eligible American royals. I doubt any of them will be willing to date you after your Bachelor debacle. Way to break the consort’s heart, by the way,” Amanda points out as she cups my balls.

I stare down at her, reclining in a comfortable chair, watching as the blonde beauty works. She looks thoughtful. I’m pretty sure she’s contemplating the trouble I’m in and the likelihood that it will affect her. I’m practical. She’s in this for the cash. If I get married, she has to look for a new “mentor.”

“Are you going to go international? There might be some royal on an island somewhere who didn’t see the show.”

“I’m not going at all,” I reply, thrusting my hips up. I relax back as her head bobs up and down. She settles into her task. “I’m not going to let him force me into something I’m not ready for. Just because he wanted to get married and start a family at such a young age doesn’t mean I have to. Oh, yeah. That’s it, sweetheart.”

This is what I need. I tangle my hands in her hair as my fangs pop out. It took them long enough.

I feel her tongue whirl over and around my dick, and I start to thrust into her mouth with purpose. Her mouth is small and warm, but I want more. I want to give her an orgasm, to remind myself that I can still do something right.

“Come on,” I order, pulling her up and onto my lap. “Ride me.”

She straddles me obediently. Her brown eyes are warm as she lines my cock up and sinks down.

I forget about the fight with my father. I forget about the potential for disaster lurking in the background. I forget about everything but the need to come. I let my hands trace the lithe lines of her body, guiding her up and down.

I work my hand in between our bodies. I rub my mistress’s clitoris forcefully and am pleased when she comes with a mewling cry. I let myself go and groan as the orgasm takes me. I buck up and hold her hips. Amanda falls forward into my arms.

I rub her back gently, but my brain is working overtime again. I should be content. I should be basking in the afterglow, but all I can think about is how I’m going to face my family in the morning knowing I now have an expiration date. How am I going to find a job in a company my father doesn’t own? I seriously doubt Susan will give me a decent reference as anything but a man-whore.

“You need to find someone completely unsuitable.” Amanda’s words are said with a sigh against my neck.

“What?”

She sits up and puts her hands on my shoulders. “Look, consorts are hard to come by ever since King Torin closed off Tír na nÓg.”

“You mean Torin the Pretender.” The words are harsh to my own ears but I won’t take them back. Torin killed my aunt, uncle, and cousin, Bronwyn. Torin is the reason Beck and Cian are in exile. I will not hear him honored with a title. “The kings of the Seelie Fae are King Beckett and King Cian.”

Amanda’s mouth forms a perfectly shocked O. It doesn’t surprise me. I rarely sound serious. My cousins’ throne is one of the only things I’m damn serious about. One day I will convince them to take it back. I won’t be satisfied until Beck, Cian, and Meg wear their rightful crowns and lead the Seelie plane.

“Of course,” she says politely, scrambling off my lap. She quickly recovers. She pulls her robe around her and pours me another drink. Her smile is gracious as she passes it to me. “I apologize, baby. As I was saying, once the Pretender closed off the homelands, consorts became rare. I hear there are many who come from planes we would never have considered before.”

I zip up my pants. I’ll take a shower before I head home. The last thing I need is my parents to catch me when I reek of sex and Scotch. And it’s probably time to begin to ease my way out of the relationship with Amanda. I’ll pay for her last year of school and give her enough to have a base to start life after grad school. Maybe it’s time to be alone for a while. “Yes, the Planeswalker clans are making a fortune off Torin’s miserliness. I don’t see how this helps me.”

It limits my options. Now that I really think about it, I suppose I always planned on finding a consort eventually. Almost all vampires of royal lines marry a consort. There are several practical reasons for this, the chief being all the physical benefits a vampire receives from taking regular blood from a consort. It elongates the life of the royal vampire. A typical vampire’s life-span is roughly a hundred years. It doubles when a royal dines regularly on consort blood.

A consort is a special type of male or female, usually of Fae lineage, though I recently discovered humans can be consorts, as well. Something about their blood strengthens the vampires from royal lines. In return, the consort remains young and vital from sexual relations with the vampire. Torin is attempting to sway the Vampire plane to his side by cutting off our access to suitable consorts.

It’s starting to work. There’s a certain segment of my plane that believe we should turn over the royal twins to Torin. They argue if Torin is satisfied, he’ll open Tír na nÓg and trade will flow once more.

It isn’t going to happen. They’ll take my cousins over my dead body.

“A Fae consort is trained.” Amanda’s musing brings me out of my dark thoughts. “Even Colin, who wasn’t aware of his status until he came to our plane, was taught manners and proper etiquette. He was educated. Your father might have come from meager beginnings, but he has high standards. If you brought home a completely unsuitable wife, he would be horrified.”

Now there’s a thought. My mind races with the possibilities. Amanda is right. My father would die before allowing an uneducated rube into his precious family. Perhaps I can use the current state of trade to my advantage. “He might even let me get her a house somewhere far away.”

Amanda rolls her eyes. “He might let you cast her aside. You can then go back to your former playboy lifestyle, having done your best to satisfy your father.”

It could be the perfect solution, though I would never cast a partner aside. It’s a terrible thing to do in my culture and brings great shame to the person being cast aside, but if I can convince a consort to work with me, then that’s another story. It wouldn’t be a marriage as much as a partnership. I could marry the woman, and then she would prove to be completely unsuitable. Perhaps I can find a human like Megan. Humans seemed a reasonable race. I can certainly work with one. Together, we’ll ensure that she’s an embarrassment to everyone. My father will understand that we should live apart, and I’ll be free to live the way I always have. She’ll get a life free of any monetary concerns and all the freedom she wants. All in all, not a bad deal for either of us.

“You’re a genius,” I say with a smile.

“That’s what the IQ tests tell me,” Amanda quips.

I wink at her as I make for the door. I have a lot to do. I can shower later.

Copyright 2026 Lexi Blake