Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“Damn me, she’s naked.” Duffy stares. My brother isn’t one to let near death interrupt his deep appreciation of the female form.
Kaja looks down at my arm. “I am Dante’s consort so I happen to know that anytime Dante is injured, he feeds. Consort blood heals. Cousin Bronwyn, if you want your husband in this fight, you’ll have to sacrifice a little blood.”
Bron sighs, but she rolls up her sleeve. “Fine, but don’t do that thing where I end up a heap of boneless flesh at the end. I need to fight, too.”
I know Lach would argue that I should do exactly that. Lach would tell me it’s the perfect solution. I would get my strength back, and the act of pulling Bronwyn in would rob her of hers.
And she wouldn’t trust me again. She saved me. She returned when she could have run. Perhaps it’s time to start trusting our bondmate.
I let my fangs pop out. Yes, Kaja is right. I can feel it now. Bronwyn glows for me, a sweet golden aura around her body. It makes her stand out. I look up, my every vampire sense open now. Kaja glows, and damn, if Gillian doesn’t glow, too.
“Roan is right about you, Gilly.”
Gillian frowns. “Roan can be right all he likes. It won’t help him.”
And then Bronwyn’s left wrist is right at my mouth. I can’t help it. I bring it to my mouth and bite down. When the blood hits my tongue, I know the true sweetness of life.
I suck and drag her pure blood into my body, health flowing into me. Power encompassing me. More than simple blood fills me. She invades my veins, her life, her heart, her spirit. They all soar inside me.
She’s shaking by the time I let go, but she straightens up quickly. She rolls her sleeve back down. She obviously felt the connection, too.
I stand, feeling my strength like the sweetest drug. I grab Bronwyn’s hand and pull her to me. Her face falls.
“And now you’re going to shove me off to the side, aren’t you?”
I shake my head. Gods, but I love the feel of her so close. “I’m going to kiss my wife before we go and save Lach. Just be careful, love. I don’t want to lose you.”
Finally, I manage to say something she doesn’t have a comeback to. I brush my lips against her and turn.
Lach is in trouble.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lach
The hag won’t stop. I skewer her soldiers. The minute I sense death descend on the fallen, I use my power to grip them and reanimate their bodies. The dead rise and fight against their former brethren.
But the hag has other plans.
I hiss as a searing pain hits my chest. I feel a squeezing sensation, as though someone reaches right through my skin and bones and catches my heart in their hands.
I fall to my knees, Roan sliding down beside me. “Your Highness, we should think about retreating. She’s got a heavy shield around her. She’s letting the soldiers die, but we can’t get to her. I’ve tried sonics on her three times now and they bounce off. Two of my men are down because the bounce back hit them. One’s dead and the other is out cold.”
Roan’s words hit my ears, but they sound distant.
You can’t win, Death Lord.
The hag’s voice is the only thing I can hear. It fills my ears, crowding out everything else.
Your power is too close to mine, and I’ve been using mine for far longer. I’ll let these sheep die in my place. I’ll focus on you. You’re the important one here. Tell me where Bronwyn Finn is.
Fuck all. I hit my head on the hard dirt. She’s inside my mind. I can feel her there, picking through my memories. Cold prickles catch in my head, the hag plucking from here and there. She causes each one to flash through me.
Staring down at my brother’s body and knowing he’s gone. Shim is gone. Bron is gone. My worst nightmare. I’m half a man and alone in all the planes. I can’t stand it. My power flares for the first time.
The memories come fast and furious.
Standing over a woman, her lovely body spread out for my pleasure. I tie the knots perfectly, loving the deep concentration it requires. Bondage is a dance between three partners, and I love the rhythm. But not the woman. I can’t give her what she wants because I gave my soul to one woman when I was just a child. She holds my soul, my heart. It’s only logical that she owns my cock, too. I turn away, knowing my desires will have to burn through me. There’s no relief here.
Listening to my father talk to his advisors. Humiliation is a rolling wave as they speak about the fragile princes. Shim is weak in body, and they worry my mind isn’t strong. I don’t try to defend myself. It won’t make a difference. They won’t listen. If only they would bond, the king bemoans.