Page 60 of Claim of Blood
Adam weighed that, reminded again why Oren had always been his most trusted advisor. He didn’t just see danger—he saw possibility.
“And your personal opinion?” Adam asked, his voice lower.
Oren rose smoothly. “That in four thousand years, I’ve never known you to shy away from complexity when it offered potential benefit.” He inclined his head slightly. “Whatever you decide, you have my support.”
The simple conviction in those words reminded Adam why Oren had stayed by his side when so many others had drifted into their own territories—or into ennui.
“Goodnight, Adam,” Oren said as he moved toward the door.
“Oren,” Adam called after him. When the older vampire paused, Adam added, “Thank you.”
A slight nod was his only reply before he disappeared into the hall, leaving Adam alone with too many thoughts.
When everyone had gone, Adam made one final circuit of the mansion before heading upstairs. Even from the first floor, he could sense Leo’s presence—awake, restless.
He paused at the foot of the grand staircase. Leo was in the north wing guest rooms, while Adam’s suite lay down the opposite hall. The distance felt wrong.
For a moment, he nearly turned toward Leo’s room. His fangs lengthened at the thought, his body responding before his mind could intervene. He could hear Leo’s elevated heartbeat through the walls—the young hunter wasn’t sleeping either.
Adam gripped the banister, the wood creaking under the strain. Four thousand years of self-control, and this hunter was testing every shred of it.
At last, he forced himself to turn away. Each step toward his suite felt like wading upstream.
Inside, he poured a scotch and moved to the windows overlooking the grounds. Somewhere out there, the Rothenburgs were regrouping—or they’d already decided Leo wasn’t worth reclaiming.
The scotch burned as he swallowed, but it didn’t touch the deeper hunger. That was the problem: this claim was affecting him more than he’d anticipated. More than he’d ever admit aloud.
And then there was Lander. That unexpected resonance had caught him off guard—not what he felt for Leo, but strong enough to drive him to instinct over reason.
Adam tried to focus on the security reports waiting on his desk, but his attention kept drifting back to the north wing, to Leo’s room.
He set the papers aside. Leo needed time to adjust. To breathe. If he pushed now, it would only confirm every lesson the hunters had taught him about vampires.
Tomorrow, they would talk.
Tonight, he would give Leo space.
Even if every instinct screamed to do the opposite.
Chapter Fourteen
Leo
Leoleanedagainstthepaddock fence, watching two geldings chase each other in playful circles. The evening air carried the scent of hay and leather. Stable hands moved efficiently through their routines, barely acknowledging the vampire lounging nearby. The horses cared even less, focused on their games and the promise of feed.
At least someone around here had a purpose.
Behind him, Lander’s fingers tapped against his tablet—a constant, irritating reminder that he was never alone. Two weeks of this. Two weeks of being watched, followed, babysat like he might spontaneously combust if left alone for five minutes.
The first few days, Leo had told himself Adam was simply busy. Important vampire business, negotiations with some Belgian company that should have wrapped up quickly but dragged on and on. Lander apologized constantly. Adam sends his regrets. He’ll be back late again. The words started to ring hollow. Especially when Adam returned only after Leo hadretreated to his rooms, when Leo pretended to sleep rather than face the awkwardness between them.
What was the point? Adam had claimed him, fucked him senseless in front of Lander, then disappeared into his corporate world like Leo was just another item checked off a list. He was starting to suspect he’d been nothing more than an interesting weekend diversion.
The Night Court hadn’t been unkind. If anything, they’d perfected polite indifference—treating him like an expensive piece of furniture: valuable enough not to damage but too impractical to engage with. They nodded when he passed in the halls, stepped aside with careful courtesy, and seemed to forget he existed the moment he was out of sight.
Even Lander, for all his dutiful attention, maintained a careful distance. Leo noticed the way the vampire’s jaw tightened when he moved too close, the near-imperceptible step back whenever their hands brushed. Another mystery he wasn’t allowed to understand. Another reminder he didn’t belong here.
The pack had reported hunters passing through Porte du Coeur a few days ago. For one pathetic moment, Leo’s heart had leapt—maybe his family was finally coming for him. Maybe they’d spent these two weeks planning his extraction.
