Marcel’s POVThe whole time they talked about the threat coming for us and the death of Halen, all I could see inside my mind were the images of what could have happened to her, to my Eva.She is here now, in my arms, the heat of her flesh warms my own and her whimpering gasps as I explore her depths with my hand set my soul alight. She calls it her sacred place and it is a most appropriate name. I would spend forever on my knees, worshipping at her alter, and my life would be well spent.“Mar.. Marcel...” she stutters my name between gasps as my tongue tastes the salty glean on her skin. My knees sink into the loose sand and her fingers glide along my scalp as she takes hold of my hair in fisted fingers.She always does that. Tries to stop me as I lower my head to taste her, but her resolve soon dissolves and rather than trying to keep me at a safe distance she pulls me closer. Her hips rock steadily, her grip tightens on my hair and the fingers buried inside her. My tongue glides be
Evangeline’s POV At the time I knew we would be heard and in the throes of passion I did not care. Now in the cold light of day I regret not making at least some effort to stifle my moans and pleading for the blessed mother to spare me from the sweet torture of Marcel and his mission to own every part of me, body and soul. The looks from the combined packs aren’t looks of disgust, the men in the pack live for their mates and vice versa, but I make a conscious effort not to walk bow legged as I make my way to the table we sat at last night. The Alphas, the Luna, Imelda, Constance and Matteau are already there and digging into breakfast. I sense Imelda’s approval as Marcel and I approach, hand in hand. Her face gives nothing away but there is a small part of me that is pleased she is content with our coupling. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to have to defend us to anyone but deep down I know it’s because she is my mother and her acceptance means more to me than i ever considered. La
Marcel’s POVLeaving her with Imelda doesn’t sit right with me, I should be in there to give her comfort and protection. I know Imelda won’t hurt Evangeline, at least not in a physical sense. I’m more concerned about her heart and mind. My Eva tries to hide her softer side, she has been in survival mode since the day we met. Showing no weakness, that is what has kept her whole all these years. Deep down inside I know she cares, the things she has seen have changed her, hardened her exterior and taken away the innocence of youth. In her sleep she cries out for her mother which tears my heart in two, and all I can do us pull her closer and hope that my touch gives her some comfort. After all, it is my blood, my father and his monsters, who killed everyone she has ever loved.Eva will hold her own with Imelda. Of that I have no doubt. She will not show the cracks in her armour to anybody, she rarely lets her mask slip in front of me. It is what she carries inside that concerns me. She ke
Imelda’s POVThe look on Marcel’s face said it all and more. He feels the bond and will not tolerate anyone messing with what’s his, not even her mother. I must admit I was unsure if he would embrace it, I never expected Evangeline to be the one to fight their gift though. The more I get to know her, the more she surprises me. I quite enjoy giving the wolves a poke every now and then, but pulling the vampyre’s strings and getting him worked up might not have been the best way to go about the next phase of my plan,Their bond was bestowed on them before the notion ever crossed their minds, but with them being who and what they are, their minds were never open to the idea that it could be possible. That is part of the reason I sent marcel to Clarence. I needed him to learn about their Goddess gift, the strength it gives the werewolves, their reason for fighting and loving fiercely. I hadn’t thought such a short stay with the pack would be so impactful. At least one battle has been remov
Chapter OneMarcel’s POV “Open your eyes and watch, boy.” My father snarls through gritted teeth and spittle flies from his taught lips into my face. He roughly grabs the loosely tied pony tail at the back of my head and wrenches my head back, which forces me to look up and watch the carnage unfolding in front of my eyes. My jaw tightens in frustration but I bite my tongue. I hate that he calls me ‘boy’. I haven’t been a boy for over a century, but he still looks down on me as if I am dirt beneath his boot and nothing more than a juvenile inconvenience. “This... is what we are. This... is what they made us. You can not fight nature son.” He shakes my head, pulling my hair out at its roots, as he aggressively makes his point.He is not wrong about not being able to fight nature, however, we are anything but natural. He continues his speech, the same one I have heard almost daily for decades. “They call us demon, devil, night walker, shadow reaper, but we would not be, were it not f
Chapter TwoConstance’s POV With the raiding party away, a rare calmness has come over the castle. I often find myself eagerly awaiting their departure so I can let down my guard and just be. This place is the only home I have ever known. I grew up within these walls and every room, every portrait and piece of furniture is attached to a memory of my life before, though it feels less and less like my sanctuary as Halen continues to fill it with his experiments.He says we are all one clan, the vampires he creates are family, and his creations will assure our safety and our place in the world. I know he believes every word he speaks, but I can not get a moments peace with them around. I am constantly on edge, waiting for one of them to go feral and kill the human pets Halen keeps around for us to feed upon. He is adamant thst it will not happen again, but I have quickly learned that his belief in something doesn’t make it so.The dining hall is my second favourite room, and as I walk
Evangeline’s POVIf you see the Blackledge Raiders, run!That is what we were taught when we were children and we were told the same thing every single day. If I wanted to go to the river to wash, my mother would stop me at the door and say, “Take a friend with you, and if you see the Blackledge Raiders...” I would finish the sentence for her. “Run. I know.”The same rules applied to fruit picking, walking in the woods, feeding the horses and pigs, hanging out the clean clothes to dry. Everywhere I went was in tandem, and I never had a minute to myself unless I woke up early enough to sneak out alone and unseen.I never really believed the raiders would come for us. Why would they? We were seven families living on the Blackledge boundaries, hardly worth their trouble or the distance they would have to ride to reach us. We had nothing of value, not really, and we caused no trouble.Oh, how wrong I was.The day they came, I was being punished as usual. My mother had caught me at the riv
Evangeline’s POV I didn’t get the chance to ask Marcel how he knew about our magic or what he meant about our parents until some time later. We did as instructed, and he walked us right past the gathering of blood drenched animals who were crouched and contorted on all fours, picking through pieces of torn and mangled meat. Two men stood out from the others. One of them was tall and broad, with long silver hair and scars that crisscrossed his exposed chest, arms, and face. He was the Lord. It was obvious from just a glance. He was well dressed from the waist down, like Marcel, and the man like creatures would not look him directly in the eye. The man beside him was smaller in every way and looked to be nothing more or less than an average person, except for the leather collar around his neck and the long leather strap which hung from the collar, down towards the ground, then turned up and led right into Lord Halen’s hand where he was sat atop a magnificent stallion.When I looked