Stroke of Midnight: A Midnight Breed Novella (The Midnight Breed Series)

by Lara Adrian

  never be broken, not even by time.

  As he’d made love to her

  hours ago, there had been a moment

  when she almost believed Jehan

  might want that too.

  She wouldn’t have refused

  him.

  They’d

  been

  drunk

  with

  passion, and in the heat of that

  limitless pleasure, he could have

  taken all of her—body, heart, soul,

  and blood. She would have

  surrendered everything she was.

  Without even knowing what a future

  together might look like once the

  handfast was over and they left the

  cocoon of the villa.

  She would give it all to him

  now too, clear-headed and sober.

  Not at the end of their eight

  nights, but now.

  And as much as it scared her,

  she had to let him know what he

  meant to her. Even more terrifying,

  she had to know if what she’d read

  in his tormented eyes a few hours

  ago was anything close to the depth

  of emotion she felt for him.

  If he loved her too, then

  nothing else mattered. They would

  find a way to blend their lives and

  form their future together.

  But as she rounded the corner

  of the corridor and overheard some

  of his conversation, all of her hopes

  faltered, then fell away. He wasn’t

  talking to Marcel. She hung back,

  out of Jehan’s sight as he spoke

  with one of his fellow warriors.

  “I

  appreciate

  your

  understanding, Commander. I’m

  eager to be back in Rome to

  assemble my team and put the new

  mission into action. I’ll be there as soon as my obligation here is over.”

  He paused to listen to the warrior

  on the other end, then exhaled a

  heavy sigh. “No, I haven’t made

  Seraphina aware of my decision. To

  be honest with you, sir, my mind is

  made up where she’s concerned. I

  don’t intend to give her any room to

  disagree.”

  He chuckled as if he and his

  comrade had just shared a joke.

  Meanwhile, Sera felt as though

  she’d been punched in the gut.

  He was going back to Rome.

  Eager to get back to his team there.

  As

  for

  her,

  he’d

  just

  disregarded her as if she didn’t

  matter to him at all.

  Sickness

  roiled

  in

  her

  stomach, in her heart. She shivered,

  suddenly self-conscious of her

  nudity in the center of the romantic

  villa. Silently, she retreated back to

  the kitchen and dropped the half-

  eaten peach in the trash.

  What a fool she’d been to let

  herself think this was anything more

  than a joke to him. It had been from

  the start. An obligation he felt

  compelled to fulfill.

  One he just admitted to his

  commander that he would walk

  away from as soon as it ended.

  Thank God she hadn’t let

  herself look even more idiotic by

  confessing her feelings for him.

  Now she had several more

  nights of torture to look forward to,

  knowing that Jehan couldn’t wait to

  be finished with the handfast and

  leave her behind.

  CHAPTER 16

  Complaints of a headache had

  driven Seraphina outside to the

  sunshine for most of the afternoon.

  Jehan had tried to persuade her that

  another vigorous round of orgasms

  might make her feel better instead,

  but his attempt at humor—and

  seduction—had failed miserably.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, her

  escape to the daylight on the patio

  seemed no less deliberate now than

  it had that first full day they’d spent

  together at the villa. When she’d

  gone there in an effort to avoid his company.

  Had

  he

  done

  something

  wrong?

  Or had she realized how close

  he’d been to burying his fangs in her

  carotid the last time they’d made

  love and was now determined to

  steer clear of him?

  Whatever it was, it bothered

  him that she didn’t seem interested

  in talking to him about it.

  Roaming around the villa

  alone while she avoided him

  outside was maddening. He missed

  her, and she had only been away

  from him for a couple of hours.

  How empty would his life feel

  if she was gone from it for good?

  That was the question that had

  ridden him most of the past twelve

  hours—ever since their escape

  from the danger at the camp. Now

  that he’d had Seraphina in his life,

  in his arms, how would he ever be

  able to return to his existence

  without her?

  He thought he’d known the

  answer, but maybe he was mistaken.

  As twilight fell outside and

  she still didn’t come inside to face

  him, Jehan decided he had to know.

  If she didn’t feel the way he did,

  then he was ready to call off the rest

  of the handfast and try to save some

  shred of his sanity, if not his dignity.

  He was stalking toward the

  patio doors when a knock sounded

  on the villa’s front entrance.

  Diverted from his mission,

  Jehan swung around and went over

  to see who it was.

  Marcel stood there in the

  moonlight, grinning like an idiot.

  And beside him—clinging to

  his arm with an equally besotted

  smile on her face—was Leila.

  “You didn’t return my call,

  brother.”

  Jehan raked a hand through his

  mussed hair and blew out an

  impatient curse. “Yeah. I, ah, was

  just about to do that.”

  “Bullshit.” Marcel gestured to

  the Range Rover. “What the hell

  happened to the Rover? It looks like

  you drove it through a sand dune.”

  “Long story,” Jehan said.

  “Suffice it to say things have been

  somewhat...interesting

  around

  here.”

  “Things have been a bit

  interesting with me too. With us.”

  Marcel glanced at Leila, and she bit

  her lower lip as if to stifle the

  giggle that burst out of her anyway.

  Jehan glanced at both of them.

  “What the hell are you talking

  about?”

  Leila tried to peer around him,

  into

  the

  villa.

  “Where’s

  Seraphina?”

  “She’s out on the patio, getting

  some air. Why are the two of you

  grinning like yo
u’ve lost your damn

  minds?”

  “We’re

  in

  love!”

  Leila

  exclaimed.

  “And we’re blood-bonded,”

  Marcel added.

  “What?” Before Jehan could

  choke out his astonished response,

  Seraphina did it first. She stood

  behind him now in a long skirt and

  curve-hugging tank, a look of utter

  shock on her face. She crossed her

  arms. “What do you mean you’re in

  love? How did that happen? And

  blood-bonded so soon? For God’s

  sake, you only just met each other.”

  Jehan glanced at her, tempted

  to point out that they’d only just met

  too and he was already ruined for

  anyone else. But her pained

  expression kept him silent.

  Marcel and Leila’s excitement

  left no time for him to reply either.

  The pair stepped inside, practically

  vibrating with their news.

  “We’ve been spending a lot of

  time together the past several days,”

  Leila gushed.

  Marcel wagged his brows at

  her. “And a couple of nights.”

  “Marcel!” She rolled her eyes,

  but her cheeks were flooded with

  bright color. “At first, we thought

  we only had the handfast in

  common. We both wanted it to be a

  success, of course. And honestly,

  we thought the two of you would

  make an adorable couple.”

  Jehan noted a cooler shift in

  Seraphina’s posture as her sister

  mentioned the handfast. “How can

  you be sure you’re not making a

  terrible mistake, Leila? You don’t

  know anything about him. No

  offense, Marcel. You do seem like a

  good, decent male.”

  Unlike his brother? Jehan

  wondered.

  Leila stared up at Marcel,

  warmth beaming from her eyes. “He

  makes me feel alive, Sera. He

  makes me laugh. He makes me feel

  special and beautiful, like I’m the

  only woman he sees.”

  Marcel cupped her face in a

  tender caress. “Because you are.”

  They kissed, leaving Jehan in

  awkward silence next to Seraphina.

  He glanced at her, but she stared

  rigidly ahead, refusing to meet his

  gaze.

  “Congratulations,”

  she

  murmured as the jubilant couple

  finally stopped devouring each

  other’s faces. “I’m happy for you

  both. I’m sure our families will be

  happy to hear this news too.”

  “That’s why we’re here,”

  Marcel said. “The handfast—”

  Leila nodded. “Now that

  Marcel and I are blood-bonded,

  there’s no need to continue with the

  handfast. It’s over as of right now.”

  Marcel must have read Jehan’s

  grim expression. He cleared his

  throat. “That is, unless you want to

  continue...?”

  “Don’t

  be

  ridiculous,”

  Seraphina replied quickly. “Neither

  one of us wants that. We’re both

  very eager to be done with this

  obligation and get back to our real

  lives. Isn’t that right, Jehan?”

  He scowled, uncertain how to

  answer. It seemed obvious that

  continuing the handfast with him

  wasn’t what she wanted. He was

  impatient to get on with his life

  outside the villa too, but only if she

  would be part of it.

  She stared at him as he

  struggled with the urge to tell her

  how he felt and risk her rejection in

  front of both their oblivious, elated

  siblings.

  “Sera,” he murmured.

  But she was already pivoting

  away from him. “Now that this

  farce is over, I’ll go collect my

  things.”

  When she sailed off in a hurry,

  both Marcel and Leila gaped at him.

  “What the hell did you do to

  her, brother?”

  Jehan shook his head. “I don’t

  know.” And then, the truth settled

  over him. Something about what she

  said. Something about how she said

  it...

  She’d heard him today.

  His conversation with Lazaro

  Archer back in Rome.

  He cursed under his breath.

  Then he started to chuckle.

  Marcel frowned at him. “She’s

  pissed as hell at you about

  something and you’re laughing?”

  “Yeah, I am.” Because now he

  understood her cold-shoulder today.

  He understood her anger at him

  now. And he’d never felt more

  elated about anything in his life.

  Rounding up his brother and

  Leila, Jehan pushed both of them

  out the door.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sending you on your way,” he

  replied. “Don’t come back for four

  more nights. This handfast isn’t

  over until I say it is.”

  He closed the door on their

  confused faces, then turned to go

  after his Breedmate.

  CHAPTER 17

  Sera folded the red silk gown

  and placed it on the bed, trying not

  to let her heart crumble into pieces.

  Outside the massive bedroom

  suite, the villa had gone quiet. As

  much as she wanted to celebrate

  Leila and Marcel’s newfound love

  and bond, part of her was aching for

  everything she thought she might

  have had with Jehan.

  Now that the handfast was

  over, she didn’t even have those

  few remaining nights left with him.

  Which was probably for the

  best.

  Being around him now was its

  own kind of torture.

  He was already making plans

  without her. Plans he didn’t intend

  to discuss with or allow her any say

  in.

  So why should she mourn the

  fact that their week together had just

  been cut short?

  “Where do you think you’re

  going?”

  She froze at the sound of his

  voice but forced herself not to turn

  around. If she did, she was afraid

  she’d be tempted to run to him. With

  her heart so heavy in her breast, she

  was afraid she’d be unable to keep

  herself from whirling on him with

  pounding fists and streaming tears.

  Demanding that he explain how he

  could look at her so tenderly and

  make love to her so possessively if

  he only meant to leave her behind in

  a few more nights.

  Although she didn’t hear him

  move, she felt the heat of his large

  body at her spine. “I asked where

  you think you’re going, Seraphina.”

  “Home,” she said. “As soon as

  possible, I hope.”

  She walked back int
o the

  wardrobe to retrieve another of the

  pretty, feminine dresses that Leila

  had packed for her. Jehan was

  waiting when she came out. He had

  placed her bag on the floor, and

  now he sat on the edge of the bed,

  his sky blue eyes holding her in an

  unwavering stare.

  Why did he have to look so

  intense and imposing, so impossible

  to ignore?

  The sight of him waiting there,

  his handsome face grim with

  purpose, made her limping heart

  start to gallop.

  She forced herself to move,

  walking over to pick up her bag and

  place it on a nearby chair so she

  could continue filling it. “Shouldn’t

  you be packing your things too? If

  we’re lucky, we might be able to

  get out of here in the next hour or

  so.”

  “I’m not leaving, Seraphina.”

  She glanced up at that. She

  couldn’t help herself.

  He stood up and walked over

  to her. “I’m not going anywhere

  tonight. Neither are you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Her breath caught as he closed

  the space between them. As always,

  his presence seemed to suck all of

  the air out of the room. Right now, it

  was leeching away some of the

  resolve she wanted to hold on to so

  desperately.

  “You heard it yourself, Jehan.

  The handfast is over. We’ve both

  made good on our obligations to our

  families, so now we’re free to go.”

  He shook his head, his

  expression sober. “Eight nights,

  Sera. That’s what we agreed to. I’m

  holding you to it. I don’t give a

  damn if the pact terms say you can

  leave me now. I have four nights

  left with you, and I mean to claim

  them.” He reached out and stroked

  his fingers down the side of her

  face. “I mean to claim you,

  Seraphina. As my woman. As my

  Breedmate.”

  “What?” Shock and confusion

  washed over her. “But I heard you

  on the phone today. You said you

  were leaving. That you had decided

  to

  go

  back

  to

  Rome.

  You

  disregarded me to your commander

  as if I didn’t matter at all. I heard

  you—”

  His thumb swept over her lips,

  stilling them. “What you apparently

  didn’t hear was that I also told

  Lazaro Archer I had fallen in love

  with you.”

  No, she hadn’t heard that.

  And hearing it now sent

  spirals of joy and relief twisting

  through every cell in her body.

  “You didn’t hear me tell him

  that I needed to make a place for

  you in my life. Or that I couldn’t