Page 59 of Prodigal Son

It had to be a blood exchange that made the others the way they were. Elders told many tales, indoctrinating members of The Order since birth to believe that bonding was strictly for called mates and sharing such a unique blood exchange with non-mates would carry lethal consequences. Was this why?

The other’s acted on two channels: conflict and lust. They were aggressive in every motion yet conscious of their loyalties to Isaiah. He worried for the males heading into the woods and wished them a fast and safe return to the farm.

The longer he walked alone the more his mood had soured. He couldn’t shake the sense that he was missing something. His mind replayed his grandfather’s story, searching for any significance or overlooked area of hope.

How was Isaiah a monster, but his father seemed fine? He wanted to speak to his father and hear his assurance that all his symptoms from the calling had disappeared.

Cain still dreamt with Anna. Did that mean his soul was still in danger? And if the others in the woods were a result of a mutated blood exchange, there would be no hope for Cain to ever share such intimacy with a wife. Anna was his called mate. There could be no other.

The black sky was brighter than his bleak future. Eventually, Grace would be called, and he’d be the only one left. Alone. Why had God forsaken him?

When he reached the house, he felt reckless. If this was his life, his eternity, he had nothing left to lose. His mind was so twisted around his own turmoil, he forgot about the curvy female waiting in his bed but thought her a pleasant surprise after such a trying evening.

Destiny lay in the same position he left her. He approached the bed slowly, tracing a hand up her leg. Her warm body created a direct contrast to the cold and hollow space of nothingness in his chest.

If he could pretend, just for a minute, what it might be like to have a female waiting for him at home…

The sensation was so sweet it stung, and he had to shove it away. He would never know such a reality, and it was masochistic to fantasize of foolish impossibilities.

Cain removed his hat and shirt. His lips firmed when he realized he’d put her on the side of the bed he preferred, but he didn’t want to disturb her. Rounding the bed, he paused.

Her shirt had slipped down her arm leaving her shoulder exposed. Lush curves swelled under the blanket and his hands itched to touch her. She’d been sleeping for a while. Would she wake if he kissed her? Would she yell at him? Slap him? He wanted to find out.

He eased into the bed, trying not to disturb her. The honorable side of him believed he should let her sleep, but the other side—the side that always lost and still paid every penalty—told him to take what he wanted, consequences be damned.

She was mortal. Lower on the food chain. His sense of refinement shackled his desires to give in to his animal nature and take what was so readily available to him. She wouldn’t be able to stop him. He was a natural predator of indomitable strength.

Why keep up the charade that he had any redeeming qualities left? Without his soul, he was nothing. Forsaken by God, shunned by his brother. It would be liberating to give up this fruitless campaign for redemption and simply take whatever the hell he wanted. And he wanted her.

He wanted to bury himself in her curves, sink his teeth into her flesh and gorge on her spicy blood. What harm was he causing if he sought such pleasure? Anna would be safe, and he would see that Destiny enjoyed herself. The moment he admitted his pleasure would cause no risk to Anna, there was no going back.

His cock lengthened with need as he pulled the covers off of her. Thick, luscious thighs begged to be stripped. His pulse pounded through every vein as his mouth salivated with hunger. He’d had her blood before. Remembered the taste and craved it.

He breathed her in, savoring the heady blend of jasmine mixing with the natural musk of her skin. He touched her cheek, the soft set of her features giving her the face of an angel sleeping in moonlight. Her satin skin was a shade darker than his, her lips a deep pink like the center of a ripe berry.

He remembered her exotic eyes, flecked with onyx and gold. He wanted her to look at him now. Coiling a silky black curl around his finger, he brought the strand to his nose, breathing her in. How selfishly he could use her to slake his desires. She inexplicably tempted him, and he wanted to know her in the most carnal ways.

He wanted those full lips around his cock. He wanted to feed from her full breasts. Shutting his eyes, he inwardly groaned. He was tired of waiting, tired of asking permission. He tugged her curl. “Wake up.”

A soft moan and a gentle stretch, then her eyes opened and she stilled.

CHAPTER 19

With a deep gasp Destiny stilled, eyes wide, a look of confusion on her face. “Who are you?”

His brow twitched. She was here, yet she appeared to have no memory of him. “I’m Cain.”

Her frantic gaze searched the room. “I… Are we…” She frowned. “Is this a dream?”

“Do you experience dreams so frequently and vividly that you sometimes confuse them with reality?” Then he had a thought. “What if this was a dream and there were no consequences to any of our choices?”

She felt her head as if searching for an injury. “I had a nasty fall.”

“Did you now?”

“Yes, I…” Her stare snagged on his chest. “Where’s your shirt, and why are you in bed with me?” She scooted back toward the headboard, drawing the quilt over her body like a shield.

He caught the blanket and she stilled. “Do I frighten you?”

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