Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Before I can even think to argue or identify the familiarity in her tone, the vampire behind me wrestles me to the ground, and I struggle against its strength. I manage to throw it off, but in seconds, it has its fangs at my throat—
The creature goes limp above me, a silver blade sticking through his back and out of his chest.
I shove the thing off. “Thanks—" My words die in my throat. “Talia?”
Lilac eyes lock with mine, shock radiating from them.
Mine.
Claim. Bite. Protect.
Instinct takes over.
I gently grab her wrist, hauling her in my arms as I wend us away from danger and back to the safety of the king's residence.
Talia shoves out of my embrace the second her feet hit the ground, glaring at me accusingly.
“It's been five hundred years, Zachariah,” she snaps. “You have no right to take me like that!”
“Talia,” I say, my mind reeling, battling every primal instinct shouting at me to reclaim, re-bite, re...everything. “You're alive?”
She raises her arms out to the side, looking at me incredulously. “Apparently so the fuck are you.”
The happiness and relief inside of me is so strong it almost brings me to my knees.
My mate is still alive.
CHAPTER 2
Talia
The effects of Zachariah’s power has barely slipped from my skin as I take in my surroundings, to wherever the hell he just wended us.
A half dozen vampires are in the room, falling silent as they all turn toward us.
I quickly scan each of their faces, opening my senses to their powers to assess any danger.
There are three significant threats in the room.
One source of power I sense is like a braided blend of witch and vampire, the combination infinite and intense. A vampire-witch hybrid—holy shit that's a thing? She’s a beautiful female with hair the same lilac color as my eyes.
The second source of power is a giant well of cunning and intelligence, but I can’t pinpoint who it belongs to.
And the third, of course, is the insurmountable powers radiating from Zachariah, and though I don’t believe he’s a physical threat to me, he certainly broke my heart.
The hybrid looks me up and down, and I do my best to keep my spine straight even though every instinct is telling me to shift into a defensive stance and face her.
“Cool outfit,” she says, shocking the absolute hell out of me.
I glance down at my huntress attire—the warm fighting leathers hugging my legs, the armored corset protecting my front, and my tight leather jacket with the huntress emblem on the back protecting my arms. Certainly not the attire that everyone else is wearing for whatever function Zachariah wended me into. Every vampire here is dressed in their finest gowns or suits, except for Zachariah who is still staring at me open-mouthed in fighting leathers of his own.
I glance past the vampires, scanning the rest of my surroundings. The walls are adorned with gilded art and ancient tapestries with enough illustrations of the royal crest for me to realize Zachariah brought me to the king's residence. The very place I was headed tonight before I picked up on that scent of bloodmad vampires.
“Alek!” Zachariah shouts, making half of the vampires around us flinch. “I need you!”
Zachariah reaches for me again, his powerful hand wrapping around my wrist—
I jerk away from his touch, hating the way it calls to my blood. I thought I’d successfully buried that need centuries ago.
“Library,” a powerful masculine voice says, a vampire materializing right next to me. “Now.” There’s no room for argument in his voice.
I dip my head slightly, recognizing that other unknown source of power I’d sensed earlier. Naturally, it belongs to the king of the vampires.
The king walks ahead, hastily turning down a hallway and out of sight. The rest of the vampires in the room try incredibly hard to pretend like they aren’t watching me and Zachariah, especially when he reaches for me again and I dodge his touch.
“I can walk myself,” I snap, heading off in the direction the king went. “And you're lucky you brought me to the exact place I was heading, or I would wend out of here so fast you’d never be able to catch me.”
I do my best to present a calm and confident exterior when on the inside I feel absolutely shredded.
Memories I left buried inside the dark recesses of my soul are unleashed with Zachariah’s scent, his incredibly annoying good looks, the way he stares at me, panic-stricken and needy like he has the right to be.
Long, moonlit walks, his laughter filling the space between us.
Dancing at court, my heart racing when his fingers grazed the bare skin of my shoulder.
Dreams of a future when his mark appeared on my wrist—
Zachariah falls into step beside me, partially leading the way since I have no real orientation of the king's residence.