Claire must deceive a vampire prince while resisting her desire for him.
Season 1 of Fated Series
***
Nothing in my life has ever been easy. Including the mission my family has sent me on.
My sister and I have traveled to the vampire stronghold to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Commander (verb) to order
I was allowing myself to be consumed by this woman, mind, body, and soul. Muddling my duty to protect and honor her with the pull of the matebond. And now, I was feeling what she felt through our connection.
I could sense how desperate she was to be desired. And how deeply she desired me.
She was my moonflower, and I was her moon, allowing her to blossom beneath my fingertips, in her own time.
This connection between us, and the way I could feel what she was feeling, had never happened before. And now that I had severed the connection, all that was left for me to interpret was the way Claire was looking at me, with those big brown eyes, so wide and open.
I wetted my lips, remembering that I'd asked her a question. "Please tell me you wore a cloak. It's freezing outside."
She hesitated for a moment, he attention drifting to the tent flaps. "It's outside. I can grab it."
Hurrying over to the opening, she undid the ties and plucked a cloak from under a pile of newly fallen snow. But even with the material covered in thick snowflakes, I recognized the gold stitching and the royal blue color as Tysons.
My suspicions rose at the sight of it, and I snatched it out of her hand. With as much calm as I could muster, I slid a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to mine.
"Claire, why do you have Tyson's cloak?"
Her chin trembled. "He-he gave it to me."
Is that so?
I found another desire rising inside me. The one to slay my own kin for daring to cloak my mate. A low growl sounded from deep in my chest, and Claire recoiled from me.
"Why did he give you his cloak?"
She swallowed hard, and I could tell she was nervous, but instead of letting it speak for her, Claire did this thing she sometimes did when I questioned her sharply—she rose to the challenge and answered with conviction.
"I was cold. It was the gentlemanly thing to do."
I didn't like the content of her statement, but I liked that she was speaking with confidence.
I let go of her chin and folded my arms across my chest. Tyson's cloak puddling on the floor. "You saw him before coming to see me?"
She shook her head. "No. He came to visit me."
As hard as I tried to hide my anger at this revelation, it was impossible. My voice shook with barely leashed fury.
"He was inside our tent? With you? Alone?" I gritted out.
Slowly, I fitted my hand around her waist, drawing her closer to me. She sucked in a sharp breath as our bodies collided. Nothing was more satisfying than having her warmth pressed up against me.
