Page 8 of Blood Moon Heat

I sat there not sure what to say, what to do. So I did nothing, said nothing. I simply sat there in my embarrassingly wet underwear, my stomach making sounds that gave away how deep my hunger was as we drove through the city.

Finally, we drove down an alleyway and parked behind a huge concrete building. Nero climbed out, rounded the car, and opened my door, while his driver unloaded my bags from the trunk.

Nero’s cold hand curled around mine, and he led me to the back of the building, punched numbers into a keypad by the door, then led me through. We walked into a dark hallway with doors branching off it.

“What is this place?”

“Your new home,” he said without inflection as he led me briskly down the windowless hallway.

“Where are we going?”

He stopped in front of a door. “We need to complete the binding before the blood moon goes down.”

I swallowed thickly—I had to drink from him.

He pushed the door open. It was dark inside, but the glow of the moon leaked around the edges of the curtains and gave the walls around it a pinky tinge. He led me across the room without turning on the light. My heart sped frantically and my mouth went dry as that humiliating ache between my thighs started to build again.

He sat in a wide armchair, thighs spread, his fingers loosely curled around the arms, and I stood there in front of him not sure what to do.

“Have you ever fed this way before, Mina?”

I shook my head. “As per the rules of a claimed female, I was given blood from a glass, from different donors.” Drinking from one person regularly risked a bond forming. When a female turned sixteen, they developed their need to feed. Because I’d already been claimed by Nero, I wasn’t permitted to ever feed directly from a vein. When I did do it the first time, it would only be from my mate—from the cold male watching me now.

“Have you fantasized about it?” he asked. “About sinking those little fangs into someone?”

His violet eyes were locked on me, as if he could see into my soul. “Yes,” I whispered, unable to lie. I wanted to taste him, this terrifying, ice-cold male. Despite everything, I wanted to know how his blood would feel sliding over my tongue and down my throat.

“Come here, then,” he said.

I blinked down at him. “Where?” There was no room. He took up the entire chair.

His hand moved so fast, it was only a flash in the darkness. His cool fingers curled around my wrist, and he tugged me forward, knocking me off-balance, then snatched me off my feet and planted me on his lap.

My face instantly burned. “What are you doing?”

“You can’t feed all the way over there, now can you?”

I didn’t know where to put my hands, so curled them in my lap.

“Don’t act coy,” he said as he slid the choker from his pocket and secured it around my throat. The weight was heavy, again like he’d curled his fingers around my throat and kept them there. “The last time I saw you, you were anything but.”

I was trembling now, in frustration and anger that this male was my mate. That the fates chose this cruel male to be mine. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “You’re a vampire, Mina. Take it. Take what’s yours or lose it. Time is running out.”

If I didn’t drink before the sun went down, if I didn’t do this now, I would go home in disgrace. I would shame my family. I’d be mateless for the rest of my long life. I turned to him in the darkness. There was no warmth radiating from him, not in any definition of the word. As a little girl, I dreamed of a male who would love me, care for me—not this cold, heartless monster.

Many old vampires lost the ability to feel emotion. Those who had never found their mates, who had never fallen in love were unable to retain or regain the ability to feel, stuck for eternity like the cold creature beneath me.

He hadn’t always been this way, though, I reminded myself. I had to have faith. I had to believe the fates knew what they were doing when they chose this male for me. Faith was all I had right then. Love had been powerful enough to bring back the emotions of vampires as old and cold as Nero. My mother had told me the stories, like fairy tales told to me when I was little, but still the truth. It had happened before. I had to believe it could happen for us.

Can you ever love him, though?

I honestly didn’t know, but despite what I said to him, I had to try. I had to try to make this work, for both our sakes.

“Mina,” he said, and there was actual urgency in his deep voice this time.

The moon was going down, I felt it as well, humming through my body as if it were calling out to me. Nero felt it just as strongly, and that urgency told me so. He wanted this. He wanted me. He may not admit how much, he may not even know or understand what he was feeling in this moment, but he did want this.

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