Page 2 of Blood Moon Heat

I stared into the shadows, into those glowing violet eyes. “Help me,” I begged, knowing instinctively that only he could take this pain away. “It hurts. Please…help me.”

Every year he came to my room, I felt the connection between us grow stronger. How could he ignore it? How could he let me suffer this way? I shoved my hand between my thighs, pressing my palm to my swollen, slick flesh, desperately trying to ease the emptiness, the agony. I squeezed my eyes closed as another wave of humiliation washed through me. “Please,” I said again.

Just like last time, when I opened my eyes, he was gone.

* * *

One year and two days later

* * *

I was drifting off when the sound of my window opening reached me.

My twentieth birthday had been two days ago. I assumed he’d taken pity on me, that he’d decided not to come. I’d been wrong. Relief and terror filled me at the same time, and I hated the part of me that wanted this, that had anticipated his visit. What was wrong with me that the moment he left my room a year ago, I’d wanted him to come back, that I’d craved the presence of this twisted monster even when he caused me pain, when it had taken days to finally subside.

Just being near him turned me into someone else.

I gritted my teeth. No. I didn’t want to feel this way. This wasn’t right.

I scrambled out of bed and ran for the door. Not this time. I wouldn’t let him do this to me again.

One moment he was by the window. The next he was at the door, blocking my escape.

He stood only inches from me, the closest I’d ever been to him. He was tall, towering over me, his shoulders broad and his muscles straining his jacket. I took in the rest of him. The skin on the side of his throat, the side that wasn’t tattooed, was impossibly pale, and the shadows seemed to move with him, concealing his face from me still, all except for his eyes. They glowed bright, boring into me.

The scent of blood hit me. His. I knew this because my fangs tingled and my stomach growled. And someone else’s blood as well—not vampire but something other. I scanned his body. He wore a suit, and the knuckles of his tattooed hands were grazed and red. The fact that his injuries were unhealed meant he’d done it very recently—or the wounds had been really bad. He had to have come to me immediately after he’d done whatever it was that caused those wounds.

He’d been at the border, fighting the fae—that had to be it. Was that why he’d been late coming to me?

I stumbled back, not from my fear of him—although I was old enough now to know I should be—but from my fear of what he did to me when he came here. Of how the scent of his blood called out to me and the pain and anguish I suffered for days after he left. The grip in my gut, the connection I felt for him, was stronger than it’d ever been, though I felt nothing but cold indifference rolling off him in return.

My stomach churned. I was just a curiosity to him, nothing more.

Still, my body ignited, fire burning in my belly and the pulse between my thighs beating so strongly, it forced the breath from my lungs. My skin was instantly coated in a cold sweat even as my body went up in flames. My nipples tightened painfully, and I crossed my arms to hide them. Humiliation had me looking at my feet, and as soon as I looked away from him, I was able to think more clearly, and the humiliation quickly turned to anger.

After his last visit, I’d been determined to find out why I reacted this way around him. When my parents had been out, I’d sneaked into the library and taken a book on vampire physiology that I’d been forbidden to read.

I’d learned the truth.

If a vampire was powerful and old, like the male standing in front of me, they could sense their mates early, and because of that, they were supposed to stay away until their female’s twenty-first birthday, to protect her from a “need her body wasn’t ready for” the book had said.

During the blood moon ceremony, when a bride was claimed, the male and his bride would drink from each other. The act was called being “blood bonded,” and had to be done under the blood moon. Once it was done, the pain I felt when he was near would stop for me. The males, however, would feel something like I was now if they didn’t mate right after the exchange of blood. The books said “they would feel increased hunger and a desperate need for release that would turn to intense pain if left unsatisfied.” I wasn’t sure what mating entailed, and a release of what, I didn’t know, but if it felt anything like the pain I’d experienced, it would be unbearable. It also said “if a male was forced beyond that point, he could revert to a primal state and experience loss of control.” I didn’t know what that meant, either, but it didn’t sound good.

I grabbed for the wall when the ache throbbed harder. “Are you going to just stand there, watching me until I’m writhing in agony, then leave me suffering for days like you always do?” I said through gritted teeth. “Or are you going to help me?”

Please, help me. God, I hated that I needed him so badly.

He said nothing, just watched me. Always watching. Screw him. I turned my back and strode across the room. I couldn’t escape him, but I refused to stand that close to him.

“What kind of help do you think you need, Mina?”

His deep, icy voice rolled through the room, stopping me in my tracks. It was the first time I’d heard it, and a shiver slid through me as I spun back. “I—I don’t know. I just… I need the pain to stop.” The physiology book hadn’t gone into detail. But I did know it had to do with mating, that only my mate could stop this pain.

He took a step closer. “You’re not ready for me to take the pain away, female.”

I could only assume he was right about that, but anything had to be better than this. “Then why are you here? Why are you doing this to me?”

Another pause. “Because you fascinate me.”

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