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Their Blood Queen: A Reverse Harem Vampire Novel

Their Blood Queen : Book One

By: Megan Michaels
Published By: Megan Michaels
Copyright: Published by Megan Michaels
23 chapters / 51,859 words
Heat Level:
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She reigns as Blood Queen, but can she submit to her alpha vampires?

The battle between vampires and werewolves had raged on for centuries in the Little Tensas Bayou in Louisiana. 

Staked in a coffin, hidden in the Adirondack Mountains, their raven-haired Blood Queen waited for rescue. The vampires needed her blood. The blood which would give them the supernatural strength needed to win Pierre Part back from the werewolves.

Four Alpha Vampires—Tall, muscular, and…well-endowed.

Annaleigh didn’t anticipate their strict and harsh dominance – and wondered if she could give them her complete submission.

Could she balance submission and being Their Blood Queen?

Publisher's Warnings: This book is only intended for those over the age of 18.
This is a steamy paranormal vampire reverse harem romance with alpha male vampires who believe in VERY unequal power dynamics, explicit spanking and sex, anal activities, humiliation, objectification, public punishment, and, of course, blood. I mean, it has vampires, there must be blood. If any of these themes upset you, please do not purchase or read this novel.

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Annaleigh’s heart raced within her chest with fear. Talon was always so stern, more stern than the other men.

She made eye contact with each man before climbing up onto the huge, high bed, aware her ass yawned open with her stretch, placing her left knee on the edge of the mattress.  

One of the men growled, and she heard teeth snapping.  

They’re hungry.  They need to feed first.

“Are you going to drink my blood, first?”  

Talon narrowed his gaze. “We handle the agenda here, girl.  Yes, that was the plan, but you just worry about what you’re doing. We’ll handle the rest.”  

“Lennix, where’s the spreader bar, and some chain?”  


She was used to the spreader bar; the men liked her restrained and open to them. But they had not chained her before.  Ropes, maybe, but chains seemedso… serious. 

Lennix went to the closet and came out holding both, smiling fiendishly at her with a wolfen grin, slowly stalking her – his prey.  “Put your legs down, so I can attach the bar.” 

Obediently, she let her legs fall to the bed, the leather cuffs cool on her ankles, the steel bar heavy, spreading her wider than she liked. She shifted her hips, wishing she could hide.  

The men unabashedly stared at her pussy, Kellam licking his lips at the sight.  

“Kaazamier, hold her legs up while I chain her to the canopy bars.”

Annaleigh pulled her lip between her teeth, nibbling nervously. She stared at the cherry wood canopy, never noticing before that there were steel eye screws affixed there for just this purpose.  

 “We just put those in this week,” Talon said. “It was Kellam’s idea.  You can thank him for it.” 

Am I actually to thank him?

Watching Kellam’s eyebrows furrow, she quickly said, “Thank you, sir.”  

“You are very welcome, girl.”  He brushed the back of his hand down the side of her face.  “Anything for you.”

The chains rattled, the metal cold and unyielding as it brushed along her legs. She would be well and truly restrained. 

Her body formed a perfect right angle, her ass and pussy spread open and wide for the using.  

Lennix finished with his task, standing at the foot of the bed, talking to her through her legs.  “You always have your safeword, right?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“And if you feel panicky or upset, you can say yellow to ask questions or take a break. Or your safeword to stop everything immediately.”  

Talon’s voice rumbled, “Tell us your safeword, babygirl.”




Heavy is the crown, and yet she wears it as if it were a feather.

There is strength in her heart, determination in her eyes, and the will to survive resides within her soul.

She is you.

A warrior, a champion, a fighter...a Queen.

- By R.H. Sin





May 28th, 1870


 The battle had been raging — a bloody confrontation between vampires and werewolves over Pierre Part, Louisiana. The bayou. The vampires and werewolves had spent years — centuries — battling for this small French town.

The vampires had owned it, exerting their authority and power, keeping the werewolves at bay. But now that was on the line. A very real and possible loss loomed in their future.  

The Couture and LaPierre brood had taken over Pierre Part centuries earlier, but now the werewolves were challenging them.  It was 1870, and the Civil War had just ended, although many in  Louisiana believed it was still raging, the resentment held for the North running as high as ever.  

The intruders —  carpetbaggers and Union soldiers — were forcing new rules down their throats. But the native Louisianans were rebelling.  

And now, the werewolves, agitated by the negative energy, were gnashing their teeth and taking advantage of the turmoil, hoping to gain leverage and ownership of Pierre Part.  

On this date, May 28th, 1870, under the security and purity of night, the vampires battled with the werewolves, not unlike the Union and Confederate soldiers who had fought on those very same lands.

Talon looked around, watching his nest of vampires. He called them his own, because they were his family, and he’d sired them all.  Tonight, they were bedraggled, bloody, and worn out.

How much longer will we be able to fight? Will we lose Pierre Part to the werewolves this time?

The only thing separating the vampires in Pierre Part and the werewolves who lived in Little Tensas Bayou was Avoca Island Cutoff.  The two armies were battling in the middle of the bayou in the inky darkness, the dank, humid air thick with the scents of iron-tinged blood, and the acrid note of gunpowder.  Talon’s nostrils burned with the putrid stench, and he coughed, his lungs expelling the smoky oxygen. 

Their Queen, Annaleigh Couture, had been the ruler of their vampire clan, in charge of the vampires as far back as their first occupation of Louisiana. The vampires guarded her fiercely, and her courtiers kept watch day and night.

 If the Queen went down, so would the vampires.

A blood-curdling scream rent the murky, close night that was the bayou. Running toward the screams, Talon, along with his brother’s Lennix, and two brothers from their nest — Kellam and Kaazamier —charged toward the piercing female wails.

They sloshed through the water, their boots and pants drenched, shoving reeds out of their way, the weeds scratching their arms and faces.  Beaded sweat dripped down Talon’s forehead, seeping into his eyes, the sting and burn of the salt blurring his vision.  Brushing his arm across his face, he quickly dried it off, halting at the boggy grass edge of Avoca Island Bayou, panting breathlessly.

Our Queen!  No, dear God, not our Queen!

A makeshift wooden raft with torches at all corners carried their Queen’s still, lifeless form.  She lay in her ruby-red satin gown on her back. It was eerily quiet.

Could she be dead? Did they kill her?

There were several blood-drenched werewolves on the raft, snapping their teeth in warning, their low, rumbling growls carrying across the murky bayou, intimidating everyone within earshot. They were crossing Avoca Island Cutoff, bringing her lifeless body toward their property, Little Tensas Bayou.

She’s gone!  We’ve lost... lost Pierre Part and our Queen!

It was over. The battle had been lost. The werewolves had won Pierre Part; it was now owned and ruled by the vicious pack known as Broussards.  

The wolves would rule with a heavy, punishing fist, directly opposed to the way it had been run by the Couture and LaPierre Vampire Clans.  

The vampires were an authoritarian power, ruled by the blood queen with rules and regulations enforced by the LaPierre broods and nests.  But they were a fair power, one taking into account the needs and desires of their vampire group as a whole.  Overall, the running of Pierre Part had been akin to a well-oiled machine, and after all these centuries it required little effort to maintain it.

I wonder what will happen to the vamps now?

Talon stood, motionless, watching the raft proceed to the grassy shore.  

A werewolf growled to everyone. “The Queen is alive. Have no fear. But she will be staked and left in a remote cave — for eternity. You’ll never find her again. This whole bayou belongs to the Broussard’s!”  

The cheers and shouts of victory rose from the hundreds and hundreds of wolves. They growled, snapping their teeth, turning on each other, and fiercely biting and clawing at their pack mates.    

“Fucking goddamn animals. I hate those fuckers, Talon.”  

“I know, brother, I do too.”  Talon wrapped his arm around his brother Lennix, holding the burly man tightly.  Their nest would be at a loss. 

 “At least, she’s alive,” Kaazamier said. “We’ll find her.”  

“We will. No doubt.”  Talon watched her slender body being lifted by the reckless animals, her arms dangling, no life left in them, claw and bite marks present on her neck and shoulders.  

The violated her. Marred her perfect body. They’ll pay for that. I’ll kill them all.  

Lennix growled deep in his chest.  “We have to get her, Talon. We can’t leave her like this. She’s our Queen. Our Blood Queen. We cannot leave her on the fucking bayou with these... these... animals.”  

Kaazamier spoke up before Talon had a chance. “It's useless, Lennix. We can't. There’s no way to rescue her now. We’ll have to find her staked body later. Once we find her, having her feed on our blood will make her ours again. We’ll take her back the bayou where she belongs. But now? We don’t have the resources, or the energy.”  

Kellam threw his head back, waving his fist in the air. “Goddamn, these fucking werewolves. How did we lose this badly? We planned, had everything we needed to win.”

Talon shook his head, his damp hair dropping into his eyes, his anger brewing and bubbling just under the surface. “We lost because our Queen was captured. Plain and simple. We knew it was a risk, knew that if they staked her we’d lose power and control of Pierre Part. We’ll bring her back. No matter how long it takes.”

Talon wanted to throttle someone. Anyone.

 Mainly though, he wanted to throttle his Blood Queen.  Annaleigh had been told — several times — to stay away from the battle, that it was too dangerous.  

She wouldn’t listen. Refused to listen.  He’d encouraged her to stay in her estate, but her independent, fighting nature wouldn’t cower in the face of danger.  

Annaleigh Couture had said, “If this is where my clan is going to be, then I need to be there as well. They need their Queen, and I need them.”  

Talon shook his head at the memory. And where were they now? 

Alone. Without their Queen.

Lacking stamina, their desire to fight waning, weakness took over their bodies, and it would become worse with time, especially without her life source and energy flowing into them.

They needed her magic, her aura.  The blood that coursed through her veins kept her vampire clan energized, to full potential. They would survive, but not well. It would take more blood — and the sacrifice of humans — to keep them functioning.

The vampires stood on the shore of Avoca Island Cutoff, watching their Queen move further and further from them.  They refused to leave the shore until she could no longer be seen, the werewolves dragged her off into the woods and doing God-knew-what with her staked body.

But the vamps would be ready, looking for any clues to her whereabouts.


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