Page 72 of Kiss of Blood and Sin

Some of the wolves flinched as they took in my bloody appearance. I pulled back my lower lip, exposing my fangs still stained with wolf blood. “What’s the matter, boys? Never seen a vampire win a dogfight before?”

Trystan let out a low growl that would’ve sent lesser men running. Good thing I left my self-preservation instincts back at the bridal shop. “I told you I found the faction, Angelo.”

Angelo met the wolf king’s steely blue eyes, cool as a cucumber in a freezer. “Dimitri, show him.”

I popped the trunk and hauled out our furry friend, ignoring the way my muscles screamed in protest. The wolves gripped their swords tighter, looking like they were one wrong move away from turning this into an all-you-can-eat buffet of vampire.

I tossed the carcass at Trystan’s feet with a theatrical flourish. “You were saying, mighty king?” I snarled, channeling every ounce of snark I could muster.

Trystan’s cheek twitched as he took in the dead wolf. He locked his gaze on me, his eyes narrowing. “You?”

I flashed him my most devilish smile. “Stalkingmy mate was his fatal flaw. Turns out, he bit off more than he could chew. Literally.”

“You said no one in your organization ordered the hit,” Angelo challenged, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. I half expected him to start breathing fire.

Trystan tilted his head, reminding me of a curious puppy. A very large, very dangerous puppy. “Show them, Gage.”

Gage, Trystan’s enforcer, stepped forward. With his long, shaggy hair and gray eyes, he looked like he’d just stepped out of a werewolf fashion magazine—if such a thing existed. The scars crisscrossing his right arm caught my eye, silvery lines snaking up to disappear beneath his collar. They continued along the right side of his neck, a roadmap of past battles etched into his skin. Great, a walking, talking testament to 'what doesn't kill you makes you uglier.' Note to self: do not pet the scary werewolf.

I stiffened, every instinct screaming that this was a trap. But Angelo and Enzo followed the three wolf shifters, so I fell in line behind them. Each step was an exercise in not face-planting in front of our furry hosts. Nothing says fearsome vampire quite like eating dirt, right?

But with each step, my resolve strengthened. This wasn’t just about vampire versus werewolf anymore. This was about Gianna, about protecting what was mine.

Gage led us to a clearing that looked like the aftermath of a particularly gruesome horror movie. Several bodies—a mix of wolves and humans—were piled onto logs, looking like they’d gone through a supernatural wood chipper. The smellof death and decay hit me like a freight train, making my already queasy stomach do backflips.

“Traitors,” Gage growled, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. “We sniffed them out. They were a rival faction, trying to take down our king by making it look like he wanted to start a war with the vampires. We hunted them all down except for one.”

“Let me guess,” I drawled, unable to help myself. “The one who tried to turn my fiancée into puppy chow?”

Angelo shot me a warning glance before meeting Trystan’s gaze. “The one who tried to kill Gianna?”

“Yes,” Trystan answered, his voice grave. “The faction is dead. I am a king, and I give you my word that no one will try to harm your sister or your family again.”

I bit back a snarky comment about the reliability of a dog’s word. Now didn’t seem the time for canine puns, no matter how tempting.

Angelo fixed Trystan with a stare that could’ve frozen hell over. “Then prove it. Let us burn them.”

Trystan cocked his eyebrow, and suddenly the air felt thick enough to cut with a knife. If he said no, we’d be in for one hell of a dogfight. And while normally I’m all for a good scrap, my body was currently voting for a nice, long nap instead.

I held my breath, drawing on every ounce of vampire strength I had left. If this went south, I’d need all my wits—and maybe a miracle or two—to fight my way out and get backto Gianna.

Trystan met Angelo’s angry stare. “To keep the peace, I will honor that request.”

But then Trystan snapped his fingers, the sound cutting through the tension like a whip crack. Gage and another wolf grabbed pieces of wood, dousing them with gasoline from a nearby can. They lit the makeshift torches, the flames dancing in the growing twilight.

As Angelo, Enzo, and I took the torches, I couldn’t help but chuckle, “You know, when I said I wanted a heated discussion with the wolves, this isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

We tossed the torches onto the pile, and another soldier unceremoniously added our furry friend from the trunk to the blaze. As the flames leaped higher, casting an eerie glow over the clearing, the shadows painted a picture of a much bigger, much messier story.

“Well,” I muttered, watching the fire consume our enemies, “I guess this is one way to have a vampire-werewolf barbecue. Though next time, I vote for marshmallows instead of traitors.”

Trystan gazed at Angelo, the flames dancing in his eyes like a twisted tango. “Are you satisfied that I’ve punished the traitors? Or should I roll over and play dead too?”

Angelo scanned the pack of wolves behind Trystan, his face as readable as a stone tablet. “If anyone so much as looks funny at my sister or anyone in my family, I’ll be back. And next time, I won’t just burn the traitors. I’ll turn this whole place into the world’s largest dog-themed bonfire.”

Trystan narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into what mighthave been a smile if it wasn’t so terrifying. “Well, it’s a good thing the traitors are dead then. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you with a return trip.”

Angelo kept silent, turning away from the burning pyre of fur and flesh. The smell of charred wolf scalded my throat, making me wish I’d packed a nose clip. Note to self: add scent-proof mask to vampire survival kit.

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