by Larissa Ione
She hissed, her fangs extending as her eyes glittered with crimson flecks. “Leave now, wenputi, or I will see to it that you’re executed before sunrise.”
He’d never liked Rasha. Had only tolerated her because she liked pain, and he gave that in abundance when he fed. But whatever small part of him had allowed him even to tolerate her died the moment she called him wenputi, a vampirized Nez Perce word that combined several insults. Orphan. Bastard. Outcast. Beggar. Parasite. Burden. Untrustworthy. Freak.
It had taken him years to accept a place here at MoonBound, and while he’d always remained detached from the other clan members—with the exception of Riker, whom he considered a friend—he’d recently begun to settle in, to participate in clan functions. Riker had played a huge role in that, but so had Bastien. Myne had become the kid’s mentor, teaching him to fight and hunt and ogle females without getting caught. And in return, Bastien had taught Myne how to laugh again.
For the first time ever, Myne had started to feel like he had a home.
Now that rug had been yanked out from under his feet, and, just like it had been for more than two centuries, he was going to be homeless and alone.
Way to feel sorry for yourself, wenputi.
A wintry void hollowed out his chest, ruthlessly scouring away all the warm fuzzies that had been filling the empty places inside him. With a vicious shove, he pushed away from Rasha and slung his duffel over his shoulder.
He didn’t look back as he opened the door and walked out of his chambers. Didn’t look back as he exited clan headquarters and stepped out into the cold night air. Didn’t look back when someone called his name.
Because the truth was that someone would only call after him in his dreams.
THE TAP ON the door almost made Aylin cry. Someone was here to feed from her, and the joy was almost overwhelming.
But so was the anxiety. What if the male on the other side of the door was only here because he was ordered to be? Riker promised that he’d find a willing partner, but what if this “willing” male didn’t know about her birth defect? Would she feel his disgust radiate off him while he took her vein? Could she stand the humiliation?
What if, by some miracle, he’d agreed to more than blood? The moon fever wasn’t just about feeding; it was about breeding. Sex. Putting all pretense of civility aside to assuage carnal hungers that couldn’t be contained.
Aylin wanted that so badly.
With Hunter.
Right now, he was probably rolling around in his luxurious bed with Rasha, his fangs in her throat, his naked body moving with hers.
Nausea bubbled up from her belly, and the tears that had threatened earlier stung her eyes.
Stop it. He isn’t yours. He never was. He never will be.
Ruthlessly, she banished his name from her mind. The knock sounded again, this time louder. Harder. More urgent. Someone was hungry.
Inhaling deeply, she opened the door.
Baddon stood there, his shiny sable hair shoved away from his face in wild waves, his mocha eyes gleaming with barely contained hunger, his fangs glinting through full, parted lips. Erotic energy pulsed from his leather-clad body in waves she could feel on her skin and deeper, all the way to her core. She nearly swayed with the intensity of it.
This was what a male in the throes of moon fever was like.
Obviously, she’d been around males on the night of the full moon, but she’d never been the focus of a male’s attention. She’d never known what she was missing.
Damn, but she’d been missing.
“Hi,” he said. Such a short, simple word, but behind it was a whole lot of promise. “Can I come in?”
She swallowed. Instantly, Baddon’s gaze snapped down to her throat, and his fangs lengthened even more, until they were putting dimples in his lower lip.
“Um, y-yes,” she stuttered, feeling like a fool.
Slowly, with a casual swagger that belied the intensity in his expression, he sauntered over to her, his black boots striking the floor with heavy thuds. When he was mere inches away, he hooked his finger under her chin. Was he going to . . . surely not . . .
Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to hers. For a long moment, Aylin was too freaked out to be anything but shocked. Eventually, her senses came back online, and the warmth of Baddon’s lips penetrated her stunned brain. His kiss was firm, not gentle, but not brutal, either. Not that Aylin had much in the way of comparison.
Only Hunter.
And oh, Great Spirit have mercy, Hunter could kiss.
Baddon’s mouth moved over hers as he backed her up against the wall and covered her body with his. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his husky voice rolling through her like the first stirrings of orgasm. “I won’t hurt you.”
You already have. I want you to be someone else.
Baddon couldn’t have known what she was thinking, but he pulled back and frowned down at her. “If you don’t want this, tell me now. The moon fever is rising, and it won’t be long until I—”
“Can’t control yourself?” She’d seen males at ShadowSpawn turn into little more than animals during the full moon.
One corner of his mouth turned up in a lazy, lopsided grin. “I was going to say I get grumpy, but whatever.”
Charmed, she relaxed enough to nod. “I want this.”
“What about Hunter?”
She started. “What about him?”
“He’s my chief, so if this is going to cause problems, I need to know now.”
Oh, sweet Maker, what did Baddon know? “Why would this cause problems?”
“I saw you at the portal. I see the way he looks at you.” Again he hooked his finger under her chin and forced her gaze to meet his. “More important, I see the way you look at him.”
She held in a groan. How many people knew about them? Everyone who’d gone to the vortex, obviously, but had anyone else in the clan noticed these “looks”? “He’s mating my sister.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
She huffed. “There’s no answer, because there’s no Hunter. You need blood, and I’m willing to give it to you. End of story.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What about what you need?”
The virginity problem. Right. She felt her face heat. “Let’s . . . just see how things go. And no more talk of Hunter.” She swept her hair away from her neck, and as if she’d flipped a switch, Baddon let out a low purr, his gaze zeroing in on her jugular.
“Hunter?” Baddon’s warm breath swept over her throat, sending shivers across her skin. “Fuck Hunter.”
No, she thought, as Baddon’s tattooed arms hauled her against him, that won’t be happening.
HUNTER STALKED DOWN the halls, melting snow dripping off his bare skin as he walked. He wore only a deerskin loincloth, and even if the passages had been bustling with people, he wouldn’t have been given a second glance.
For two hundred years, he’d run off his anger, his anxiety . . . any emotion that got too intense to contain. Usually, he ran naked, so yeah, the loincloth wouldn’t draw attention at all. Clan members were all too familiar with his uncontrolled sprints through the forest.
The difference between all those other times and now was that before, a top-speed run until he was exhausted took the edge off whatever was bothering him. Tonight it was as if he hadn’t run at all. As if he hadn’t come across a group of vampire poachers and taken them apart.
What was truly coming apart was his life.
He was about to be mated to a female he hated. A high-ranking clan male had betrayed him. The forest was crawling with humans who wanted to slaughter or enslave vampires. He suspected that someone in the clan was a spy. And the female he wanted . . . he couldn’t have.
He let out a vicious snarl and stormed toward his chambers, hoping for Rasha’s sake that she wasn’t
there. His footsteps echoed in the passage, which was empty of people but rife with the erotic tension of moon fever. His skin tightened, almost as if forming a shield against the maddening lust in the air.
He needed to feed, but Rasha had already been used. There were more females than males in the clan, so he could easily find a partner, but dammit, he didn’t want any female but Aylin.
With a curse, he slammed his fist into the wall and kept going. And going. Until he found himself heading in the direction of Aylin’s quarters. Heat flooded his veins, and his heart beat faster. He breathed deep, tracking Aylin like a wolf.
She was in her room.
Lifting his face, he inhaled again, seeking her scent as he got closer. He caught it, stronger now, a tangle of grass, sunshine, and dew that made his nostrils tingle and his body harden. Damn, but something about the way she smelled made him fantasize about taking her in a sunlit meadow, the sounds of a rushing river softening her passionate cries.
Twenty feet away, he forced himself to stop. More than anything in the world, he wanted to knock on her door. The driving desire to touch her, to kiss her, to feed from her, raced through him like burning gasoline.
Resist.
He inched forward.
Come on, asshole, you’re stronger than this.
Another step. Her door was within reach.
You’re . . . stronger . . . than . . . this.
Sweat beaded on his brow, but he managed not to take another step. Or to grab the doorknob and rip it out of the door in his urgency to get to Aylin. He couldn’t make things worse for her.
Pivoting on his heel, he spun around. Deep inside, he swore his bear roared. And then it went dead silent as Baddon’s scent filled the air. And with it, the unmistakable aroma of arousal.
It was coming from Aylin’s room.
Instant, possessive rage overcame him.
He was going to break down the door if he had to. Rational thought fled, leaving behind only the primal desire to make the female his and destroy whatever—or whoever—stood in his way.
BADDON’S LEAN, MUSCULAR body pressed against Aylin’s, his tattooed hands brazenly stroking her hips as he kissed his way up her throat and jaw. He’d nicked her skin with his teeth instead of going for a full feed right away, and her pulse thudded painfully hard inside her veins as her own body reacted to his blatant seduction.
But even as her skin heated and her breasts began to throb, her mind was looking for a way out. This was wrong. It was something she’d wanted for so long, and maybe if she hadn’t fallen for Hunter, she could go through with it. But now there was no way she could give herself to another male. Not while she was under the same roof as Hunter.
Bizarrely, this felt like cheating.
A hysterical laugh threatened to spill right into Baddon’s mouth. How could she cheat on a male who was going to be mating her sister? Who was probably, right now, in bed with her?
Aylin was a fool, but she couldn’t control how she felt. When one hand slid beneath her sweatshirt, she cried out in both pleasure and regret. “Baddon,” she breathed. “I—”
Suddenly, everything went cold and still, as if an arctic air mass had settled over them. Baddon’s head came up, and he barely had time to whisper a harsh “Fuck” before the door burst open with a crack of exploding wood.
He spun around, keeping his body between her and . . . Hunter?
Her heart screeched to a halt. Hunter’s massive shoulders spanned the width of the doorframe, his lips were peeled back to reveal sharp fangs the size of her pinkie, and his entire body threw off lethal menace as he zeroed in on Baddon.
His entire nearly naked body. Spirits have mercy, the skimpy loincloth only made it worse. She knew what the deerskin flap concealed, and she wanted to rip it from his hips with her teeth.
Her fangs tingled in anticipation.
“Leave, warrior.” His gravelly voice was so deep and powerful that the vibrations got her heart going again . . . but in an unstable, terrified rhythm. “Now.”
Baddon took a single, heavy step toward Hunter. “She’s not yours.”
Oh, shit. This was not going to end well. On the best of days, a confrontation between two angry alpha-male vampires could end in disaster, but when moon fever set in and everyone was jacked up with the need to feed and mate, people could die.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly, but as if she hadn’t spoken, the two males snarled like beasts out of hell and met in the middle of the room, nose to nose, chest to chest.
Both were born vampires, but Hunter was taller and probably outweighed Baddon by twenty pounds. But she’d seen Baddon fight. He was fast, and he reportedly ran a motorcycle gang that was notorious for torturing and killing its rivals. He definitely fought dirty.
“Get. Out.” Hunter’s hands clenched into fists. “Last warning.”
Baddon’s answering growl spurred her into action. Desperate to prevent bloodshed, even as a small part of her reveled in the fact that two males were competing for her—well, for her blood, anyway—she laid her palm lightly on Baddon’s biceps. His leather jacket creaked as she squeezed to get his attention.
“I think it’s for the best if you go,” she said softly. “Please. Thank you for coming by.”
It was an eternity and a half before Baddon stepped back. He flung one last, defiant glare in Hunter’s direction and then turned to Aylin. “My door will always be open to you.” He stalked out of the room, slamming the destroyed door behind him.
Hunter rounded on her before the sound even faded in her ears. “Did you feed him? Have you fed any of my warriors tonight?”
Annoyed by his arrogance and intrusion into her private life—even if part of her secretly loved it—she folded her arms over her chest and glared. “You interrupted before that could happen.”
He raked her with his gaze. “Did you fuck any of them?”
Abrupt anger doused the warm fuzzies of being fought over. “That’s none of your business. And if I’d participated in an orgy with a dozen of your warriors, it would still be none of your business.”
His expression went flat. Cold. “You’re mine.”
“Yours?” She gaped at him in disbelief. He seriously thought he could just take what he wanted, when he wanted. As a clan chief, he was apparently no different from the rest. “Where’s Rasha?” she mocked. “You know, your mate. The twin who is yours.”
“She fed another tonight.”
Aylin sucked air. Even though Rasha and Hunter weren’t officially mated, Rasha had made a stupid choice. She wondered what male would have been dumb enough to risk Hunter’s wrath. She also wondered what had happened to that male. “Well,” she said, “I’ve always been second to her in everything. I will not be second to her in this.” She pointed to the door. Such as it was, anyway. “Now it’s time for you to leave. I won’t be a consolation prize.”
Maker help her, if she wasn’t so angry, she’d probably be happy to be a consolation prize for Hunter, and how sad was that? But dammit, all she wanted was to rid herself of her pesky virginity with someone she chose to be with. Someone she loved. She wanted those memories to hold on to when she was miserable in another clan chief’s cold bed.
“Consolation prize?” Hunter’s eyes shot wide. And then they narrowed to slits, and in the blink of one of those ebony eyes, he had her on the bed, his body covering hers and his mouth sealed against her lips. “You could never be a consolation prize.” His voice was fierce, the force of his conviction ringing through her. “I want you, Aylin Redmoon.”
Tears stung her eyes. She wanted him, too, but aside from Rasha being a fool of the highest order, nothing had changed. Her heart was all in, but her brain was screaming warnings.
Wedging her hands between them, she palmed his chest and shoved. “That’s the moon fever talking.”
He looked down at her
, his eyes glowing, his jaw a hard, aggressive line. “It wasn’t the moon fever talking when we were at the vortex. It wasn’t the moon fever talking when we were in the cave and I made you come. And it sure as hell wasn’t the fucking moon fever chatting you up yesterday when I told you I wanted to strip you, lick you, and be the one who makes love to you for the first time.” His gaze fell to her throat, where the tiny nick Baddon had made was still bleeding, and he cursed. “I don’t know how things are going to play out, but I do know I’m not letting you go.” He dropped his head to her throat and dragged his tongue over the little cut. “I can taste him. I want him gone.” One hand dropped to her hip and hauled her hard against his erection as he sealed his mouth over the wound and then drove his fangs deep.
Her gasp of pain eased into a moan of pleasure. He drew deeply, the erotic sensation spreading through her body and all the way to her core. It was like at the vortex, when she’d felt a climax building from out of nowhere. Rasha had always said that with the right male, moon feedings were sex without getting naked.
Yup.
Hunter undulated against her, rubbing his hard length against her sex. A shock of pure arousal streaked through her, and any doubts she’d had a moment ago were silenced. The future was something to worry about later. She needed to feed a male for health reasons, and she needed to lose her virginity to lose any appeal she held for Tseeveyo.
More important, she was dying for this experience. She had no doubt there would be real consequences, both for her heart and for Hunter, but right now, as his hand slipped beneath her shirt and caressed its way upward, she didn’t care.
HUNTER HAD NEVER been this turned on before. Oh, he’d shared a lot of wild nights with a lot of females, and truth be told, the two occasions he had been with Aylin at the vortex and the time in the cave had overshadowed all those other nights.
But this . . . this was going to blow everything apart.