Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Love is something more.
Isn’t it?
“You’re going to send me to an early grave, princess.” He removes the washcloth and begins massaging my ass.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Some salve. You’re pretty red. But I didn’t break any skin.”
“Were you trying to break skin?”
“I wasn’t trying to do anything. You pissed me off. I told you what would happen if you said this thing between us would end.”
“Yes, you did.”
“And you said it anyway.”
“I did.”
Then he chuckles. “Princess, you and your thigh-high boots. Your ruby red lips. Your long and sexy legs. You like a little kink, don’t you?”
I don’t dignify that with a response.
“You wanted a spanking. You freaking wanted it. Well, you got it.”
Again, I say nothing. Whatever he’s rubbing on me smells nice. Kind of like marigold and mint.
“Where did you get it?”
“Get what?”
“Whatever you’re rubbing on my ass.”
“It was in the bathroom.”
“Are you going to tell me where we are?”
“We’re in a standard hotel room in another resort. One I keep as a safehouse.”
“Oh.” I look around. In the corner is a shelf filled with canned food and a few flashlights.
“I keep it stocked,” he says. “We may be here for a while.”
I turn then, roll over on my back, and wince at the pain in my ass. “No, we’re not going to be here for a while. You’re going to tell me all about those two vamps you killed, and then I have to leave. I have to go to give my father the information.”
“I’m thinking about your safety,” Rogan says. “You’ve got a horde of demons and their king after you. I think your father will understand if you lie low.”
“Are you kidding me?” I scoff. “My father has no love for me. I’m a tool for him, Rogan. That’s all.”
“I think you’re wrong about that.”
I scoff again. “How the hell would you know anything about it?”
“Your father sent you to me for a reason,” he says. “How did he know?”
Trust me. He’ll jump through all kinds of hoops to get to you.
Those words. Those enigmatic words that turned out not to be quite so enigmatic.
“I thought the same thing,” I say. “Somehow, my father knew we’d be drawn to each other.”
“You’re my damned mate, princess. This goes way beyond being drawn to each other.”
“How, though? How could a wolf be fated mates with a human-vampire hybrid?”
“Hell if I know, princess.”
“Can you at least tell me now? Tell me about those two vamps. Who they were, and who you were defending when you killed them?”
He nods then. “Yes. I will tell you. It’s time.”
33
“They were brothers.” Rogan meets my gaze. “Your father seems to think I’m aligned with a demon. I’m not, princess. I have relationships with demons, those on my payroll, but I’m not in alliance with any of them. They—those two vamps—were in line with a demon. One demon specifically.”
“Which one?”
“One guess.”
He doesn’t have to say the words. I already know.
Richard Tomlinson, my stepfather. The demon king.
“Now do you get it?” he asks.
My ass throbs. But it’s a good throb. Good pain. Pain I needed.
“Okay,” I say. “Anyone aligned with that evil bastard deserves what they get. But you still claim you were defending your pack when you killed them. Who in particular were you defending?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. It matters to me.”
“Why? If those two rogue vamps were aligned with your stepfather, why do you care who I was defending?”
“I don’t care about the two vamps,” I say. “What I care about is you, Rogan. I want to know why you killed them. I want to know how you got into a situation where you were defending your pack from those two.”
“I will always defend my pack, princess. I will always have their backs. Every single one of them.”
“Even those who aren’t worthy?”
“Blood is forever.”
His words stick inside me like flies trapped in a spiderweb. Blood. Fucking blood. I haven’t fed in a while, and I’m hungry. Starving.
But I must stay in control.
So I’m surprised when Rogan slides next to me, offers me his carotid. “Feed. You need it. I can tell.”
How does he know me so well?
The pulse in his neck beats rapidly, chanting to me.
Take me. Take me. Take me.
And I lunge, sinking my fangs into his hard and pulsating flesh, sucking the red nectar from his carotid, and sating myself.
Dark chocolate, black raspberry, cinnamon, and clove.
It tastes even more delicious than normal—this elixir, this nectar made in Rogan’s body.
I feed, and I feed, and I feed…letting his blood slide down my throat, nourish me, comfort me.
“Princess, that’s enough.”
But I sink my teeth farther into him, and the blood flows into me, strengthens me.
“Princess!” Rogan yanks away from me, blood trickling down his neck.
Damn, the carotid! I scramble from the bed and lick his wounds closed. “Did I take too much?”
“I’ll live.”