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

by Lara Adrian

  leave the handfast without knowing

  you were mine.” He caressed her

  cheek,

  eyes

  smoldering

  with

  affection and desire. “My life is

  with the Order, Sera. I can’t give

  that up.”

  “I would never ask that of you,

  Jehan. I understand that you’re

  doing

  something

  important,

  something that you’re devoted to.

  After what we found at the camp, I

  realize your mission with the Order

  has probably never been more

  crucial.”

  “No, it hasn’t,” he said. “I

  can’t leave my duty, but I know you

  can’t give up yours either. I’m not

  going to ask you to leave your life

  behind to be with me in Rome.”

  She frowned, grateful that he

  understood what her work meant to

  her, yet unsure how their two

  worlds could mesh as a mated

  couple.

  “That’s why I’ve decided to

  pull a new team together here in

  Morocco. After last night, it’s

  obvious that Opus has a strong

  presence here, so I’ve been tasked

  with pursuing those leads here on

  African soil. I’ll work out the

  details with Commander Archer

  when I return to Rome at the end of

  the week.”

  She couldn’t believe what she

  was hearing. She couldn’t believe

  what he was doing for her. For them

  both. For the new bond he meant for

  them to share.

  “Jehan, I don’t know what to

  say.”

  He lifted her chin on the edge

  of his fingers. “You can start by

  saying you love me.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Then

  she said it again with all the elation

  in her soaring heart. “I love you.”

  He drew her close and kissed

  her, his lips brushing hers with such

  tenderness she wanted to weep. The

  next thing she knew, he had her

  spread beneath him on the bed. As

  he undressed her, then hurriedly

  stripped off his own clothing, his

  dermaglyphs pulsed with all the

  deep colors of his desire. His cock

  stood erect and enticing, awakening

  a powerful hunger in her—for his

  body, and for his blood.

  Jehan clearly knew what she

  was feeling. His own hungers

  blazed in his transformed eyes and

  in every formidable inch of his

  naked flesh.

  His fiery gaze scorched her

  face as he looked at her in utter

  devotion.

  And need.

  So much need, it rocked her.

  He lowered himself between

  her legs and entered her slowly, as

  he bent to lick a searing path along

  her jawline, then her neck. “You’re

  mine, Sera.”

  “Yes,” she gasped, arching

  into his abrading kiss as his fangs

  tested the tender flesh of her throat.

  “For the next four nights, I’m yours

  however you want me, Jehan.”

  He glanced up at her, baring

  those beautiful, sharp tips with his

  hungry, definitely wicked smile. He

  gave a slow shake of his head.

  “Four more nights is only the

  beginning. Starting now, you’re

  mine forever.”

  She nodded, too swept up in

  love and desire to form words.

  Emotion overwhelmed her as

  she watched him bite into his wrist

  to open his veins for her. “Drink

  from me,” he rasped thickly,

  bringing the punctures to her parted

  lips.

  Sera fastened her mouth to the

  wounds and stroked her tongue

  across the strong tendons of his

  wrist. His blood called to her, more

  deeply than she could ever have

  imagined. She moaned as the first

  swallow roared through her senses,

  into her cells. She drank more,

  reveling in the power of the bond as

  Jehan’s essence—his life—became

  part of hers.

  And all the while she drank, he

  rocked within her, creating a

  pleasure so immense she could

  hardly bear it.

  “You’re mine, Seraphina.” He

  stared down at her as she fed, as

  she came on a shattered scream.

  “Starting tonight, you’re only mine.”

  “Yes.”

  On a rumble of satisfaction, he

  drew his wrist to his mouth and

  sealed the punctures closed with a

  swipe of his tongue. His blazing

  eyes were locked on her throat.

  Sera brought her arms up

  around him as he lowered his head

  to her carotid and licked the

  fluttering pulse point that beat only

  for him.

  And when her handsome

  Breed warrior—her eternal love—

  sank his fangs into her vein and took

  his first sip, Seraphina smiled.

  Because whether she believed

  in magic or not, tonight she was

  holding the prince, the fairy tale,

  and the happily ever after in her

  arms.

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  BUNDLE ONE

  Includes:

  Forever Wicked by Shayla Black

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  Graham

  Captured in Surrender by Liliana

  Hart

  Silent Bite by Tina Folsom

  BUNDLE TWO

  Includes:

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  Jones

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  BUNDLE THREE

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  Adrian

  The Flame by Christopher Rice

  Caress of Darkness by Julie Kenner

  Don’t miss the newest novel

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  Titanium spikes slashed the

  fighter’s face, spraying blood

  across the floor of the steel cage

  and thrilling the crowd of cheering

  spectators inside the underground

  fighting arena. Gritty industrial

  music pounded from the dance club

  upstairs, bringing the din to a

  deafening pitch as the long match

  between the pair of Breed males

  built toward its finish.

  Carys Chase stood near the

  front, among the throng of avid

  spectators as Rune’s fist connected

  with his opponent’s face again.

  More shouts and applause erupted

  for the undefeated champion of

  Boston’s most brutal arena.

  The fights were technically

  illegal, but highly lucrative. And

  since the outing of the Breed to their

  terrified human neighbors twenty

  years ago, there were few sporting

  events more popular than the

  outlawed gladiator-style matches

  pitting a pair of six-and-a-half foot,

  three-hundred

  pound

  vampires

  against each other in a closed, steel

  mesh cage.

  Blood was essential to Carys

  and her race, but sometimes it

  seemed mankind was even more

  thirsty for it. Especially when the

  spillage was restricted to members

  of the Breed.

  Although even Carys had to

  admit that watching a vampire like

  Rune fight was a thing of beauty. He

  was dangerous grace and lethal

  savagery.

  And he was hers.

  For the past seven weeks—

  since the night she’d stepped into

  La Notte with a small group of

  friends and first saw Rune battling

  inside the cage—they had been

  practically inseparable. She had

  fallen fast and hard and deep, and

  hadn’t looked back for a second.

  Much to her parents’ dismay.

  They and her twin brother, Aric,

  had all but forbade her to see Rune,

  basing their judgment on his

  profession and reputation alone.

  They didn’t know him. They didn’t

  want to know him either, and that

  hurt. It pissed her off.

  Which is why, with a full head

  of steam and a stubborn streak

  inherited from both of her parents,

  Carys had recently moved out of the

  Chase family Darkhaven and in

  with her best friend, Jordana Gates.

  Leaving home to get her own

  place hadn’t gone over well,

  particularly with her father, Sterling

  Chase. As the commander of the

  Order’s presence in Boston, he,

  along with the Order’s founder,

  Lucan Thorne, and the other district

  commanders, were the de facto

  keepers of the peace between the

  Breed and mankind. No easy task in

  good times, let alone the precarious

  ones they lived in now.

  Carys understood her father’s

  concern

  for

  her

  safety

  and

  wellbeing. She only wished he

  could understand that she was a

  grown woman with her own life to

  lead.

  Even if that life included a

  Breed male who chose to make his

  living in the arena.

  All around her now, the

  spectators chanted their champion’s

  name. “Rune! Rune! Rune!”

  Carys joined in, awed by his

  domination of the fighting ring even

  as the woman in her cringed every

  time fists smashed on flesh and

  bone, regardless of who was on the

  receiving end. And she could admit,

  at least to herself, that being in love

  with him had made her hope for the

  day he might decide to climb out of

  the cage for good.

  No one had ever beaten Rune

  —and more than a few had died

  trying.

  He prowled the cage with

  fluid motion, naked except for the

  arena uniform of brown leather

  breeches and fingerless gloves

  bristling with titanium spikes. The

  sharp metal ensured every blow

  was a spectacle of shredding flesh

  and breaking bone for the pleasure

  of the crowd.

  Also crafted primarily for the

  entertainment of the sport’s patrons

  was the U-shaped steel torc around

  the fighters’ necks. Each combatant

  had the option of hitting a mercy

  bu
tton inside the cage, which would

  deliver a debilitating jolt of

  electricity to his opponent’s collar,

  halting the match to afford the

  weaker fighter a chance to recover

  before resuming the bout.

  Although Rune had been the

  recipient of countless juicings when

  he climbed into the ring, he had

  never stooped to using the mercy

  button.

  Neither did his opponent

  tonight. Jagger was one of La

  Notte’s crowd favorites too, a black

  Breed male whose own record of

  wins was almost as impressive as

  Rune’s. The two fighters were

  friendly outside the arena, but no

  one would know it to see them now.

  Being Breed, Jagger healed

  from his injuries in seconds. He

  wheeled on Rune with a deafening

  roar, plowing forward like a bull on

  the charge. The contact drove Rune

  back against the cage. Steel bars

  groaned, straining under the sudden

  impact of so much muscle and

  might. The spectators directly

  below shrieked and shrank away,

  but the fight had already moved on.

  Now it was Rune on the

  offense, tossing Jagger’s massive

  body across the cage.

  Game or not, the clash of fists

  and fangs brought out the savage in

  just about any Breed male. Jagger

  got to his feet, his lips peeled back

  from his sharp teeth on a furious

  sneer. His dermaglyphs pulsed with

  violent colors on his dark skin. He

  rounded on Rune, amber fire

  blazing from his eyes as he

  crouched low and prepared to make

  another bruising charge.

  Opposite him in the cage, Rune

  stood tall, his massive arms at his

  sides,

  his

  stance

  deceptively

  relaxed as he and Jagger circled

  each other.

  Rune’s Breed skin markings

  churned with raging colors too. His

  midnight-blue eyes crackled with

  hot sparks as he studied his

  opponent.

  Rune’s

  fangs

  were

  enormous,

  razor-sharp

  tips

  gleaming in the dim lights of the

  arena. But beneath the sweat-

  dampened fall of his dark brown

  hair, his rugged, granite-hewn face

  was an utter, deadly calm.

  This was Rune at his most

  dangerous.

  Carys’s breath stilled as

  Jagger

  leapt,

  catapulting

  and

  cartwheeling in a blur of furious

  motion across the ring. One foot

  came up at Rune’s face like

  powerful hammer, so fast, Carys

  could hardly track its motion.

  But Rune had. He grabbed

  Jagger’s

  ankle

  and