Page 62 of Claim of Blood
“Take me to Adam?”
Lander didn’t look surprised. He just nodded and started walking toward the golf cart.
Here goes nothing, Leo thought, then amended,Here goes everything.
At the mansion, the energy felt charged, humming along his skin. The moment they stepped inside, everything exploded into motion.
Adam appeared out of nowhere, slamming Lander against the wall. Fangs extended, eyes gone dark and feral. Lander went limp in his grip, toes barely brushing the floor.
“What the fuck!” Leo shouted.
“You took what was mine off the grounds,” Adam snarled, voice guttural.
“He wanted to see the horses,” Lander managed, his throat working.
“I wanted to see the horses!” Leo protested. “Put him down!”
“He is mine,” Adam growled, and his hold tightened.
“He is yours,” Lander whispered. “I am yours.”
“I am yours,” Leo echoed, voice ragged. “Please, Adam.”
The sound of it seemed to reach something behind the hunger. Adam shuddered, drawing in a sharp breath. But thepower pouring off him didn’t abate—if anything, it thickened, saturating the air.
Leo’s pulse hammered. His body swayed toward Adam of its own accord, heat spreading low in his belly. This wasn’t the calculating man who’d courted him with careful attention. This was something older. Something that owned him in ways he was only starting to understand.
“Please,” Leo said again, softer.
Adam’s gaze snapped to him. The feral edge softened just enough. He shoved Lander aside and reached for Leo instead.
And Leo didn’t flinch this time.
Adam’s hand closed around Leo’s wrist. Not rough but unyielding. The moment their skin touched, the tension in the room shifted—less violence, more raw, possessive hunger.
Leo’s breath stuttered. His body lit up like a live wire. Every nerve ending felt primed, attuned to the smallest shift in Adam’s expression.
Adam raised a hand to his face, rubbing roughly, as if trying to force himself back to something more human. His elongated fangs scraped his palm. When he lowered his hand again, his eyes were still dark, pupils blown wide.
“I will not let this control me,” he rasped. But the smile that curved his lips said otherwise—something wicked, something inevitable.
He called out, voice steady even as it rumbled with barely leashed power. “Maja.”
She appeared almost instantly, her expression wary. She dropped something into Adam’s waiting palm—a small vial of slick oil—before vanishing back into the shadows without a word.
Leo could fight this. He knew he could. He could shove Adam away, demand explanations, cling to whatever shreds of pride he still possessed.
But the thought dissolved the moment Adam stepped close again. His scent—dark musk and something older, elemental—filled Leo’s lungs. The bond flared between them, dissolving hesitation.
He didn’t want to fight it.
The instant Leo stopped resisting, everything changed. The world blurred around the edges, like he’d stepped out of time. He felt buoyant, weightless, every nerve thrumming with a singular, all-consuming need.
His hands moved without conscious thought. He toed off his shoes, fingers fumbling clumsily with the buttons of his shirt. Only when cool air kissed his bare skin did he realize he was undressing right there in the entry hall.
A firm hand caught his elbow. Lander’s hand. Steady. Warm. Leo looked at him, dazed, and saw the same conflict in the vampire’s eyes that he felt in his own chest—something tight and inevitable.
Lander didn’t speak. He simply turned, guiding Leo toward one of the front parlors.
