Forged in Blood: A Dark Paranormal/ Fantasy romance (Broken Bloodlines Book 1)

“Are we all set?” Axl asks Xavier, who’s sitting at the breakfast table making notes on a map.

Without looking up, Xavier nods once and places the pen between his teeth.

I take a sip of my coffee and stand beside him, looking at the map of the woods that border Montridge. Xavier has adorned it with various symbols and arrows. “Is this for the final trial?”

Malachi slips his arms around my waist and sits down, pulling me onto his lap. “Yeah, the Hunt. Our favorite.”

“The Hunt?” A shiver runs down my spine, and Malachi laughs. “What happens? Do you hunt people?”

“Only the pledges, baby, and they all know what they’re getting themselves into.”

I wrinkle my nose, watching Xavier make more marks on the map. “What is he doing?” I whisper to Malachi.

“He’s marking the quickest way through the obstacles. They’re different every year.”

“What exactly happens at these hunts?”

Axl tips my chin up with his forefinger. “Always so many questions, princess.” Then he offers me a smile and presses a tender kiss on my forehead before declaring that he’s going to shower.

As soon as he’s gone, I lean forward and examine the map. “Why is there a picture of a bear?”

Xavier flashes me a wicked grin. “That’s where the bear traps are.”

I wrinkle my nose. “There are bear traps?”

Malachi presses his lips against my neck and hums. “There will be much worse things than bear traps in those woods tonight, baby.”

I study the map again.

“No, you cannot come,” Xavier says, without looking up. “Absolutely not.”

I gasp. “I never asked. Not even in my head. Did I?”

Malachi chuckles. “No, baby. But we already know what you’re thinking.”

They aren’t wrong. I would love to go to the Hunt and see how it all plays out. “Then please let me come. I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do. I promise.”

Malachi cups my jaw in his hand and turns my face so I’m looking into his bright-green eyes. “We’ll be hunting, sweet girl. The witches cast a spell that prevents us from communicating through our bond during the Hunt because it gives us an unfair advantage. We won’t be able to focus on the Hunt and protect you.”

I pout, my arms folded across my chest. “I can look after myself.”

“Yeah?” Xavier growls. “Like the last time you went wandering around the woods alone and almost got yourself eaten?”

Shame courses through me at the memory. Not only of Ronan but of how cruel Xavier was afterward. As though he feels that pain in me, he takes my hand and threads his fingers through mine before dusting his lips over my knuckles. “We’re not risking your safety, Ophelia. You’ll stay away from the Hunt. Do I make myself clear?”

I squirm on Malachi’s lap, and he wraps his arms tightly around my waist. “Ophelia?” he says with a warning growl.

As unfair as this seems, I know they’re doing it for my own protection. And that’s kind of awesome. “Fine, I’ll stay away. But you at least have to tell me what happens if I’m not going to be able to watch it for myself.”

Xavier rolls his eyes and goes back to his map, so I look at Malachi.

“The pledges from each vamp society are split into groups of three or four. They get a two-hour head start, and they can choose to help or hinder each other, but their ultimate aim is to ensure they make it from one end of the woods to the other without getting caught, either by a hunter or one of the traps. Those who make it out on the other side are turned.”

That seems so final and unfair. “So that’s it? If you don’t make it, you don’t get turned? After all their hard work?”

Malachi nods. “We can only turn the best.”

“So who are the hunters? All of you?”

“Each society chooses four hunters. For Ruby Dragon it will be Axl, Xavier, me, and one of our juniors.”

“And if you catch someone, you get to bite them, right?”

He nods. “Bite them and help them forget anything they might have seen that they shouldn’t have.”

A wave of jealousy washes over me, and Malachi obviously senses it because he nuzzles my neck. “We have to eat, baby.”

“I know. It’s just that your bites are so …” I’m not being unreasonable. One of their bites is enough to set off an orgasm.

“They’re so what, sweet girl?” His hand slips beneath my skirt and along the inside of my thigh.

“Pleasurable,” I whisper.

Xavier snorts a laugh, but he keeps his eyes on the map. “Not always, Cupcake.”

“They’re not?”

Malachi shakes his head, his fingers skimming over my panties at the apex of my thighs. “Our bite isn’t unpleasant. And it isn’t supposed to hurt because we don’t need people screaming while we bite them. But we only make it pleasurable for people we like, baby.”

I run my fingers across the nape of his neck, and his eyes twinkle as he smiles at me.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“Is our little cupcake jealous?” Xavier asks.

“No,” I insist, even though it’s a lie. The thought of them doing to any other girl what they do to me makes my stomach roll and my heart ache a little. “I’d just rather you didn’t go around making random women feel …”

Xavier looks up, his dark eyes burning into mine now. “Feel what?”

“The way you make me feel,” I whisper. I’m being foolish. They’re vampires, and that’s what vampires do.

“Sweet girl,” Malachi says, peppering kisses over my throat before he tugs my panties aside and begins to tease me. “What we do with you is very different. And you know it is.” He slides a finger inside me, and my back bows. “Don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” I whimper, wrapping an arm around his neck and holding onto him. Then he sinks his teeth into my throat and reminds me exactly how good he can make me feel.

I settle into the armchair and flick through my novel, but I can’t focus. My mind keeps going to the boys out at the Hunt and how exciting it all sounds. Despite them warning me how dangerous it is, I’m fascinated. And it’s not like those who are hunted are ever in any danger. They get bitten if they’re caught, but then they get a happy memory inserted instead of the bite and they’re fine. Not that I want anyone other than Axl, Xavier, or Malachi to bite me, but surely if I mentioned I was with them, whoever caught me would let me go.

I glance at the window. The sun has set, and the Hunt will begin soon.

Can you guys still hear me? I don’t get an answer. Looks like the witch magic is already in place. A few weeks ago, I would’ve sworn I’d be happy to have their voices out of my head, but it’s been less than an hour and I miss them.

I put my book down and go to the window, peering out into the fading light. And that’s when I feel it, like a punch to the solar plexus. They’re hurt. Or in danger.

Or both.

I have no idea where the sudden overwhelming dread is coming from, but the sensation is so acute that I can taste it, like a bitter residue in the back of my throat. I need to get to them and warn them.

Something is very, very wrong.