“F-fun?” She jumps a few more steps, almost tripping on her ass.
“Fun,” I repeat, continuing my slow but steady pace towards her. “Vampires are natural predators, and you, little Sinclair, are my prey. You made yourself so the second you thought to escape my home. So please, run, and allow me the thrill of the hunt, because when I catch you, you’ll regret every step you’ve taken during this ridiculous attempt.”
I pause, waiting for her to rush off, but she continues watching me with the same intensity I am her. Guarded, her back stiff, hands rubbing on her thighs. Clearly she needs more incentive.
“Run, Hellion.Run.”
This time, she obeys, streaking through the forest, cutting between trees and foliage, her pants music to my fucking ears. Her heartbeat lays the precise path I’ll soon follow—but only after a few moments. When she gets far enough away she believes she has a shot, that’s when I’ll go.
Her scent eventually fades, as does the sound of her attempt. I check my phone, expecting minutes to have passed since letting her go, but nearly a full hour has instead. Time passes so quickly when a thrilling hunt is on.
No matter, because the farther I have to track her, the tastier victory will be.
The hungrier I grow.
I take off in the direction she did, trailing her scent. This time, it’s a straight line because she assumed I’d be close behind her. She got decently far, I’ll admit, but I catch up in mere minutes, spotting her bent over between the trees.
Now, now, you shouldn’t have stopped running. You make it too easy.
Like she’s heard my thoughts, she begins sprinting again, but this time I don’t let her get far before I’m on her, arms wrapping her waist and taking us both to the ground. I spin so I’m beneath her, cushioning the fall so the forest floor doesn’t hurt her, but quickly roll us both over until I’m crouched above her on my hands and knees.
The faintest streak of fear flits through her gaze at the same time her scent alters to something spicier, something forbidden—lust. I wrench her head to the side, clearing the path for me to make the single stupidest, and probably most fatal, mistake of my immortal life, but unable to stop myself either.
Without rhyme or reason, without a counter to every reason I shouldn’t, I jam my fangs into her neck and begin drinking.
Euphoria races through me.
Bliss.
Thirst—and the answer to it.
Feed. Drain her dry.
And then something else. Another feeling—another sensation. One as unwelcoming as everything else Sinclair has brought to my life.
Protect. Care for her. Keep her safe.
Immediately followed by the sensation of being pushed off the edge. Of being no longer myself. Of being ripped apart, shredded from the inside out, all by this woman.
No…no, it’s impossible.
A word slices through me, clearer than anything else, awakening instincts I’ve never before felt.
Bride.
My Bride
My mate…
Third Intermission
FREYA
Rememberwhen I said fate is a fickle bitch? Well, this is her coming through.
Let’s recap: Alec, our lovely resident vampire king—who doesn’t act how a king should, but what do I know?—is mated to Harlow Sinclair, the youngest of the exact family he vowed a lifetime of revenge and retribution towards.
Fate sucks, doesn’t it?