Page 8 of Blood Moon Bound

No wonder Douglas was furious. “Why won’t you pay him a dowry?”

“That’s not something you need to worry about, little rabbit.”

Constantine had just made an enemy of Douglas, a male who, unlike my mother, wasn’t completely emotionless; hate, jealousy, greed, cruelty, he felt all of them, acutely. The brooding warrior beside me was right. I was property, only ever something to be bartered. He wouldn’t countenance this. “Can he…can he do that? Take me back?” Oh, god, please say no. I couldn’t endure another moment in that house filled with fear and horror and loneliness. And after this, it would be so much worse. He’d take this out on me.

Constantine’s deep violet eyes locked on mine. “Oh no, he won’t be taking you back.” He licked his lips. “I tasted you under the blood moon.” He flashed his fangs. “There is no going back.”

I nodded and quickly looked away, unable to hold that intense gaze as relief washed through me. I gripped the armrest and stared out the window, and my relief grew the farther we got from that castle and my parents.

I felt Constantine watching me, studying me. Did he expect me to scream and protest? Or beg him to take me back to my family? That would never happen. No matter what came next, nothing could drive me back to them.

Nothing.

* * *

I woke as Constantine laid me down. I blinked up at him. The room was dimly lit, his face mainly in shadow. “Where am I?”

“My home,” he said and stepped back.

A low rumble rolled through the room, then crashed. I jumped. Thunder. I looked to the window. It was dark outside, the blood moon still high in the sky, but there were clouds gathering, a storm moving in fast.

I searched the room. The walls were stone and dark wooden panels. There was a wardrobe and dresser, also in dark wood, as was the bed I was on. I flexed my fingers against the velvet bedcover. It was the deepest of red, like the open curtains.

I didn’t know what happened now, but whatever it was, no matter how nervous and afraid I was, I had to please him. I didn’t want to give him any excuse to throw me out. It had to be safer here than out there on my own with no money or protection, or anyone I could trust.

Lightning forked through the sky, and the shadows and light created were a stark contrast, highlighting the sharp angles of Constantine’s scarred face. His eyes glittered as he stared down at me.

When the silence became too much, I forced myself to speak. “I am at your service. Please tell me what you’d like me to do?” My voice shook embarrassingly, but there was nothing I could do about that.

I’d do anything to keep him from sending me home. He said there was no going back, but he could change his mind. If I didn’t please him, he could toss me out.

“We need to complete the blood bonding before the moon sets,” he said, and his voice was impossibly low and rough. His scarred hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and he began undoing them, exposing his deeply tanned throat and tattooed skin.

Heat burned my cheeks and I looked away.

“Have you never seen a male’s chest?” The bed dipped when he sat on the edge.

I shook my head.

“Look at me.”

My embarrassment grew, but I forced myself to do as he demanded. His shoulders were wide, his chest smooth and stomach roped with muscle and covered in tattoos. I had the strangest urge to reach out and touch, touch the expanse of smooth, decorated skin bared to me.

“How do you usually feed, little one?”

His voice rumbled, lifting goose bumps all over me. “A glass, and never from the same donor twice,” I said quickly. When a vampire drank exclusively from one person, a bond could be formed. When a female turned sixteen, they developed their need to feed. Because I’d already been claimed, I was never permitted to feed directly from anyone. When I did, it would only be from my mate—from the brutal warrior staring down at me.

“You will drink from me now,” he said.

My gaze sliced to his. Feed from him? Press my mouth against his skin, sink my fangs into his flesh, and drink directly from his vein? No. I couldn’t, could I?

His throat was thick, the veins there also. My mouth watered, and hunger, sudden and urgent, yawned wide inside me. My stomach rumbled and heat hit my face. “A cup is fine,” I said, an unmistakable tremble in my voice. “I wouldn’t want to…you don’t have to…” I swallowed hard. “I mean, unless you want…” I was rambling, trembling, at the thought of how close I’d have to get to Constantine to do what he asked of me.

“No cup.” He crooked a finger. “Come here.”

There was no escaping this. My face burned hotter. If we didn’t complete the bonding ritual, I wouldn’t be safe from my stepfather. Constantine was terrifying, but I didn’t think he was vindictive or evil. I’d seen firsthand what that looked like.

Trembling, I climbed to my knees and shifted closer, then stopped, not sure what to do. Constantine wrapped his large hands around my waist, and I gasped as he lifted me, planting me across his lap. I kept my head down, not knowing where to put my hands, where to look, what to do.