Page 67 of Dearest Alpha Brothers 1: Vampire Prince

The city lights painted liquid gold across the bay as Ryker took us along the coastal route. I should have been admiring the view—it was the kind of night that made New Vale look like a supernatural fairy tale. Instead, all I could focus on was Archer’s overwhelming presence beside me. His scent filled the enclosed space of the car, making my fangs throb with every breath. I leaned closer, drawn like a moth to flame. My eyes traced the strong column of his throat, lingered on the tempting curve of his lips, then dropped to where my hand had somehow landed on his thigh. The solid muscle beneath designer wool pants twitched under my touch.

“See something you like, little bat?” Archer’s voice held that dangerous edge of heat that made everything inside me melt. “You’re staring at me like I’m the last blood bag at a vampire convention.”

“I’m not—” My traitorous stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly. Because apparently being a vampire prince didn’t save me from embarrassing bodily functions. “Vampires aren’t even supposed to have growling stomachs. This is clearly a design flaw.”

“Hungry?” His fingers traced up my arm, leaving trails of fire that had nothing to do with blood thirst. “Because I’m a five-star dining experience right here, complete with mood lighting and everything.”

Zane turned, steel-gray eyes flashing silver in the darkness. “Archer.” Just one word, but it carried enough alpha warning to make the air heavy.

“We can stop somewhere,” Ryker offered, though the crackle of electricity dancing across the dashboard suggested he wasn’t as composed as he sounded. “That café near the crystal fountains does excellent blood-infused drinks. Their hot chocolate is?—”

“Why settle for synthetic when you’ve got grade A, pure alpha blood right here?” Archer’s grin turned positively wicked as he tugged me closer. “I’m basically a gourmet food truck. Except, you know, classier. And better dressed.”

“You’re making it so much worse,” I groaned, pressing my face against his shoulder. His scent was devastating up close—citrus and sunshine wrapped around something darker that made me want to bite… everything. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“If I were a vampire,” he murmured against my hair, voice dropping to a register that should be illegal, “I wouldn’t be able to keep my fangs off you. Fair’s fair, little bat.”

“You’re going to regret this level of temptation.”

“Sweetheart.” His laugh rumbled through me like warm honey. “I’ve never regretted anything less in my entire three centuries of existence.”

Fine. Challenge accepted.

I struck before I could overthink it, fangs sinking into the perfect spot where his neck met shoulder. The taste… oh, sweet midnight fangs. His blood exploded across my tongue like liquid summer—bright citrus and golden honey wrapped around pure,raw power. Each mouthful was a revelation. I could taste his playfulness, his fierce protectiveness, the molten heat building between us. Notes of ancient forest and wild magic danced beneath it all, making me dizzy with need.

Archer’s arms locked around me like steel bands, a groan rumbling through his chest that I felt in my bones. “Fuck, little bat. That’s—you can’t just—gods.”

I should stop. I really, really should stop. But his blood was addictive, better than any carefully crafted blood-wine or designer plasma blend. Each pull made him shudder, his hands gripping me harder, until I wasn’t sure if he was trying to push me away or pull me closer.

When I finally forced myself to pull back, dazed and definitely aroused, Archer’s eyes had gone molten gold, pupils blown wide with desire. For a heartbeat that felt like eternity, we just stared at each other, the air crackling with enough tension to power a small city.

Then his mouth crashed into mine.

The kiss was pure fire, desperate and consuming. His lips claimed mine with hungry possession, tasting his own blood on my tongue in a way that should have been weird but was just scorching hot. I melted into it completely, surrendering to the onslaught as he devoured my mouth. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as embarrassingly needy sounds escaped my throat.

Twin growls from the front seat ratcheted the temperature even higher. I could smell Zane’s midnight-starlight scent turning dark and dangerous with desire, feel Ryker’s lightning-storm energy crackling through the car like a brewing tempest. Archer’s kiss turned deeper, more possessive, his hands sliding down to brand my waist through the thin silk of my shirt.

“Archer.” Zane’s voice was pure alpha command, though the roughened edges betrayed his own control wasn’t perfect. “We’re almost home.”

Home. Right. That was… probably important? Though I couldn’t quite remember why when Archer was kissing me like he wanted to devour my soul, his citrus-sunshine scent wrapped around me like a heated blanket.

“Five more minutes,” Archer murmured against my lips, stealing another kiss that made my toes curl and my fangs ache. “Maybe ten. Hour tops.”

Ryker’s laugh held the dangerous edge of an approaching storm. “We’re either going straight home, or I’m pulling over and joining you. Choose wisely, brother.”

That… that really shouldn’t sound as tempting as it did. At all.

“What do you think, little bat?” Archer’s voice was pure sin against my lips. “Your choice. Home or…” He trailed off meaningfully, pressing another scorching kiss to the corner of my mouth.

I should say home. I really should. But after two weeks of empty breakfast tables and lonely nights, having them here, being in Archer’s arms, tasting his blood on my tongue… it felt right in a way nothing else ever had. Like puzzle pieces clicking into place. Like coming home to a place I didn’t even know I was missing.

“I…” My voice came out embarrassingly breathy. “Maybe somewhere with a view?”

The energy in the car shifted instantly, becoming heavier, more charged. Ryker’s lightning crackled across the leather seats while Zane’s midnight-starlight scent darkened to something that made my whole body tingle.

“I know just the place.” Ryker’s voice held dangerous promise. “Private overlook, perfect view of the bay.”

“Ryker.” Zane’s growl was pure alpha warning, but I could smell the conflict in his scent—duty warring with desire. His steel-gray eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, burning with barely contained heat. “Luca, sweetheart, we should?—”

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