Eternal Blood: The Mark of the Vampire by Laura Wright Read Free Book Online Page A

open at the feel of cool metal. “You.”
    “Not who you were thinking about, Princess?”
    Her arms shot out from beneath the covers, her fingers wrapped his wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “Don’t move.”
    “Get off me, you bastard!”
    The scent of her fear did nothing to stall him, only pushed his madness further. “Don’t talk. Even your breath on my face makes me want to scratch at your skin to get inside.”
    Her gaze narrowed on his. “What’s happened to you? You look—”
    “I said don’t talk!”
    “If you’re here to kill me,” she said, her nails digging into his skin, “don’t expect me to die easily or quietly.”
    Her lips pressed together, with fear tensing her jaw and the skin around her eyes—though the scent of arousal still lingered temptingly in the air.
    The blade still held to her throat, Lucian’s fangs dropped even further as he uttered, “I hate you.”
    She stared up at him, unblinking, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in and out. “Hate me or yourself?”
    He leaned in closer. “You’ve turned me inside out,” he whispered near her mouth. “Do you understand that? I can’t feed, I can’t fuck.” His head began to pound, his muscles too . . . Dammit, he wanted her mouth under his, her blood rushing over his tongue—her death on whatever was left of conscience. If he pressed the knife just a hair closer, he could have it, have it all . . . “That night you came to me—”
    “I didn’t plan it, Lucian,” she interrupted fiercely. “Goddammit! I didn’t plan to feed—”
    He cut off her words, pressing the blade nearer to her throat. “Another word and I will be feeding from you.”
    RELEASE THE VEANA, LUCIAN. NOW.
    Before he even had the chance to respond, the knife was ripped from Lucian’s fist. For one brief moment, the cold, metal hovered in mid air, then shot past Lucian’s face and disappeared behind him.
    Lucian whirled around to face his intruder, in the back of his mind hearing Brownyn slip from the bed, taking her freedom. But his gaze, his focus was pinned on the hooded figure lurking in the shadows near the window. He hissed, “What do you want?”
    “To keep you from harm,” replied the ancient paven.
    Lucian sneered at his father, the Breeding Male—the Order. “Too late.”
    “It will be if you continue on this path.” Titus raised his hooded head toward the corner of the room. “I am sorry for this, Mistress Kettler.”
    Lucian turned and narrowed his eyes on the veana who, even in her fear, stood tall and imperious.
    “I thank the Order for its help in this matter,” she said, nodding at Titus. “Now, pray get him out of here before my parents awake.”
    Instantly, Lucian felt the pull of his father, magnet to iron. “Come with me, Lucian.”
    It was a solid yank, and yet Lucian was immobile, his eyes locked on Bronwyn. He uttered a pained, “I cannot.”
    Bronwyn turned to look at him.
    “She is to be mated in the morning,” Titus said tightly. SHE WILL FEED FROM ANOTHER AND HE WILL FEED FROM HER.
    “Shut up!” Lucian roared.
    YOUR TORMENT WILL PASS.
    “My torment has only begun!”
    Lucian’s gaze caught on the mark near the base of Bronwyn’s thumb. The paven’s mark—her paven. Feral rage slammed through him and he shot across the room, forcing her deeper into the corner. She belonged to him. Her mouth, her gaze, her neck, her vein, her voice, her cunt. He grabbed her hand and pulled it to his lips. But just as his fangs entered her marked skin, he was yanked back, slammed into the one who had given him not only life, but the curse of the Breeding Male.
    No blood met Lucian’s dry tongue, but Bronwyn’s cry of pain ripped through his black soul as Titus flashed him away.
     
     
     
    Bronwyn stood in the corner of her bedroom, her legs shaking from both terror and unfulfilled desire—her mind already spent with questions she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted the answers to.
    But they came