"Olive?"

My mother died when she was giving birth to me, it's what I've been told for as long as I can remember by my dad. It's a little known fact about me as the whole 'disappeared dad' thing usually takes precedence.

The early passing of my mother is also how I got my namesake. Her name was Olivia and as a way to honor his late wife, my father wanted to continue her namesake through me.

The gesture would have been totally heartwarming if it weren't for the fact that my dad was quirky as hell. He had the bright idea that instead of just naming me Olivia, like any sane person would do. It would be a good decision to put a fun little spin on his dead wife's name.

And thus the name Olive came into being.

My dad was absolutely mad for thinking my name was anything remotely cute, all it's done is provide my countless bullies endless jokes at my expense.

To my father though, it put a smile on his face every day. So I put up with the taunting and teasing and didn't bother going about changing it. Besides, the paperwork to legally change your name was way too much work anyways.

Even after my father disappeared, I endured through it all and wore both my names proudly like a badge.

Olive.

Ludovic.

Families are messy, they are complicated, loud and imperfect. They are something I've longed to have back in my life ever since I was left all alone. The Ludovic Family of Three, it was an idea that enticed and haunted me simultaneously for as long as I could remember.

I craved the bickering, I yearned for the feeling of anguish after being scolded by a parent. I would have given anything to have a complete family again.

But with a 100% dead mother and a 99.9% sure dead father, that dream of having two parents who were actually alive and could complete my family was unrealistic at best.

Amias suddenly snorted and tore me from me self deprecating, orphan thoughts. Despite the situation we all found ourselves in, he burst into a quiet fit of stifled laughter. He covered his mouth with his hand and I quickly gathered what he was giggling about. I mean Lysander's voice was exceptionally high pitched for a guy, even I could admit it was slightly funny even with the ominous situation we found ourselves in.

It was a high enough octave to give pause, the voice was way too high pitch to come from a man. Which could only mean one thing.

Samson shoved Fran forward which drug us all with her, the closer we got to the famed vampire king the more realized that Lysander was not really a Lysander.

The overly dramatic lighting combined with the distance shrouded the figure from sight at first glance but now as I stood in the light with the figure, it was quite obvious that Lysander was not a he after all.

Lysander was a woman. She had cropped brown hair paired with floor length black dress robes and garnet eyes. The woman was slender and tall, her face was immaculately smooth and without a single flaw. She was somehow stunning and terrifying at the same time.

Mostly terrifying though.

As if the shock of Lysander's gender was not a big enough surprise, it appeared that was not the biggest shock of the day after all.

Because for a second there, it almost sounded like Lysander said my name. That would be impossible though since the woman standing before us was a complete stranger to me. I must have misheard her, I mean, we were pretty far apart when we first arrived.

Maybe she said something that rhymes with my name. But there are literally no words that rhyme with my name...Still, that doesn't mean she truly recognized me and really called out my name. She could have said any number of other things.

Like omelette or solid? Dollop! That's definitely it. She could have been ordering her lunch and didn't see us come in,. Logic.

F:ck, who am I kidding.

Samson growled beside us and yanked on our connective chain, grimacing as he did so and forced us to the floor. "You worthless lot, kneel when your King speaks."

King?

I was thrown to the floor, landing hard on my knees.

In a blink of an eye, she was standing in front of me, and the silver chains that bound me to the rest of our group were suddenly shattered, I fell free from Samson's grasp.

I landed on my hands and knees and immediately Matteo surged against his restraints, lunging towards me as Lysander loomed over. She grasped my chin with her hand and instantly my entire being froze to the core, she lifted my eyes up to her and Matteo growled loudly.

Samson swung his arm into Matteo's side, I could practically hear the air leaving his body but he persisted still. Matteo looked up at the high vampire through his dark lashes and seethed foolishly. "If you don't get your hands off of her I will rip your throat out, leech."

"Samson." Lysander called and with a knowing nod of her head, she silently ignited him into action. He corralled the rest of my friends with the remaining pieces of chain and began pulling them backwards out of the room before I realized what was taking place.

I tugged my face from her icy grip and pushed off of the floor to stand but my legs failed me and I crashed back down onto my knees, "Don't do this, please."

Samson paused and looked up to his leader, waiting for a command for him to continue or say otherwise.

If it was true that this woman knew me, which based off of her astonished reaction there was definitely some prior knowledge I did not know about. I wanted to milk it to my advantage and maybe I could swing our freedom.

Lysander's face was a steel trap, if I thought Matteo was difficult to get a read on this put a whole new meaning to the word. It felt like a century passed by as I waited for an answer or any sign at all really to cross over her features.

Finally she cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of her, "It appears I have been given information that was not authentic. These are not intruders, please show our guests to the suites. Do make them feel at home."

Both Samson and my jaws were practically on the floor, we were in similar states of shock that I'd gotten the supposed feared vampire overlord to change her mind.

He stood there gaping, looking from Lysander to me as if he was waiting for a punchline. I couldn't help but to recall Eyeless Asa's similar reaction from the first day I met Matteo, right after he informed Asa that I would not need to be killed after all.

The silence was deafening and once Samson realized this was no joke, he stuttered to life again. "But they trespassed into your land, what about the bounty on their heads? What's going to happen--"

"These are guests and they will be treated as such, there will be no more discussion on the matter." She commanded cooly and Samson begrudgingly began to unclasp the silver bonds that held everyone.

The moment Matteo's shackles clicked open he rushed to my side, wrapping his arms around my body. He pressed his face against my neck and breathed in deeply, the side that wasn't harboring a disgusting wound. It almost felt like he was shaking.

He twined an arm about my waist and helped me stand up, once I was at eye level I was faced with the full intensity of Lysander's stare.

Lysander narrowed her eyes for a split second before a syrupy smile coated her features, too sweet to be real. "Samson will show you to some rooms where you can freshen up and rest in, please do make yourselves at home. Again, my deepest of apologies for this mixup."

Samson waved us over and began walking over to a long corridor on the other side of the room. Fran and Devin immediately took off behind Samson, Amias gave me a small thumbs up before he too rushed to follow. Matteo, with his hand still wrapped around me, followed in suit. He was mindful of my fatigue and turned slowly as he helped guide me after the others.

"Not you, Olive. Not yet." Lysander's voice pierced me from behind and Matteo's hand instantly tightened around me. She tilted her head, "I'm sure that won't be a problem, Alpha? I promise I won't keep her long."

Samson came back around and gripped the back of Matteo's forearm to which he immediately tore from his hands. Matteo's amber eyes widely searched my features, waiting for my confirmation.

I so desperately wanted to tell him to not listen and to not leave my side but that would be selfish of me. So instead, I nodded. I even offered up a smile.

"Go. I'll be alright." I wished I believed what I was saying and by the looks of it so did Matteo.

He hesitantly released me from his warm arms and allowed himself to be escorted down the hallway with the rest of our crew. Without his support, I found it difficult to remain upright.

I was dizzy and beyond tired, everywhere hurt and I felt nauseous.

The side door boomed loudly, the resounding sound of a lock reverberated across the now virtually empty audience hall and Lysander looped her arm through mine. Could things get any weirder?

I stiffened under her touch and she instantly detected my hesitation, "You don't know who I am, do you?"

I chewed on my bottom lip, considering being smart with her but I knew that if Matteo were here we wouldn't want me to do that. "You're Lysander, the vampire King of the Rogues."

She smiled and pat the top of my arm, "Right you are, dear one."

"Tell me, do you know who Hatshepsut is?" She tried again but this time I didn't have an impressive answer for her.

I shook my head slowly and she started walking us off in the opposite direction that everyone else went down. Hatshepsut was an extraordinarily successful pharaoh in ancient Egypt. Hatshepsut was immensely successful, bringing about an era of peace and prosperity that was previously unparalleled in Egyptian history. Hatshepsut was also a woman."

"In Egypt pharaohs were traditionally male and would have these grandiose beards that were symbols of their status and power. What was particularly intriguing about her, was that she too wore the pharaoh's beard. Of course it was a false beard but the statement was the same." Lysander looked down at me, almost checking in to make sure I was still following with her story. "I wear the name Lysander as Hatshepsut wore the false beard, it a symbol of power and intrigue. A name that strikes fear into anyone who hears it and this divine responsibility was passed down to me from the last man who wore it as well."

I thought I was lost before but now, I was simply hopeless. I didn't want to be strolling through this evil lair with Lysander, I wanted to be with my friends. I wanted Matteo and I wanted us all to be safe.

"Last question, Olive." Lysander suddenly stopped walking and turned to face me. She stared down at me with the fiercest intensity.

"Have you seen the movie 'The Princess Bride'?"

I refrained from busting out laughing, this was an evil monster who terrorized and profited off the slavery of others and she was asking me about 'The Princess Bride'? Was this actually happening right now?

She cleared her throat, impatiently seeking an answer from me and I quickly nodded, I actually have always loved the film but my quiet admiration was clearly not enough. She wanted verbalization, "Of course I have, who hasn't?"

She smiled keenly and nodded in agreement with me, "Very true, Olive. I suppose you'll remember who the Dread Pirate Roberts is then?"

In the film, the Dread Pirate Roberts was originally an evil pirate who looted and terrorized the seas. It was discovered that the original Dread Pirate was not even working the seas any more but instead he appointed a new Dread Pirate Roberts to uphold the name and continue the legacy he'd created. It had become an alias for an evil pirate that was passed from successor to successor over the years.

I suddenly knew where she was going with this.

"I, like my mentor before me, am not the original Lysander. We come from a long line of vampires with the same drive and desire, it is not a name but a title that is passed on over the centuries, sweet Olive." She explained carefully and suddenly I couldn't take enough of her cloyingly sweet demeanor.

I yanked my arm from her's, "Honestly, I could care less about your history lesson. I want to be with my friends, I want to know that they are alright and that you didn't use some code word and send them off to their deaths. Who the hell are you really and how the f:ck do you know who I am?"

Lysander's serene demeanor that she wore like a porcelain armor was beginning to crack, with every word I spoke I watched her lose a shred more of her coolness.

She rolled her shoulders back in an attempt to keep herself calm, "Why Olive, dear," She paused and reached out her pasty hand to cup the side of my face, "I'm your mother."