Primal Kill – The Order of Vampires Read Online Lydia Michaels

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Vampires, Witches Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
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“Hush.” She pulled back the silk draped over her legs, revealing a long expanse of lush, ivory flesh. “You’re worked up, and that helps nothing.”

He lowered to the chaise and dragged his hands through his black hair, groaning in frustration. “They should be relieved to have another female.”

“Darius, your brothers are creatures of habit.” Her sharp nails teased the exposed skin around his collar. “They hunt and mate. Right now, with the way things have been, feeding is harder than ever. Technology limits us, and we must make due. We cannot risk others discovering our secrets. You must trust your Alpha and heed his call for patience. Evander knows what is best.”

All of his life, Darius believed that was true. He trusted his family and dutifully followed Evander wherever he led, as did his other brothers, Atticus and Emmerich. But this time was different.

Instinct pulled him in another direction while his loyalty held him here. His inability to stray from the pack left him aching for his mate. Without their approval, he could only endure the agony of knowing she was also suffering. His divided loyalties were tearing him in two.

“If he’d at least let me answer her.” His head pounded.

“You know that’s not how this works.” She raked her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to rest on her full breasts.

She was softening, her milk no longer as fragrant as it had been a week ago. Last spring, when she’d given birth to a small litter, she’d been radiant and full of life. Now, the whelps were able to sleep on their own, and Evander insisted she no longer coddle the pups. Darius sensed she mourned the loss of their constant presence and needed comfort.

She pulled his hand to her chest to cup her breast. He massaged gently through the layers of silk as she combed her fingers through his thick hair. A soft moan slipped past her lips, affirming his touch was a means of calming her discomfort rather than a means to satisfy his carnal needs.

“Winter will come early this year,” she said, voice soft and husky as her warm breath teased. “You can hear the cold approaching when the westward winds whine through the trees, and we can see it in the leaves. Perhaps your mate will be easier to find in the spring.”

“Perhaps.” He hoped that was the case. “When Evander was called to you, did you sense him trying to find you?”

She slouched lower and parted her thighs, lacing her fingers with his and pressing his hand against her apex. “Not at first, but over time we found our mental link. From there our connection only grew. By the time your brother came to me, we were already in love.”

“So, there was no hesitation on your part?” He harbored fears that his mate would reject him.

“There is no force stronger than a wolf’s imprint. It’s greater than gravity and consumes us until there is no other loyalty besides that to our mate.”

Gravity was a good comparison. But while gravity pushed them into the earth, an imprint pulled him toward his mate. “It’s definitely stronger than gravity.”

“The fact that you’re able to resist the pull tells me it’s still early. Over time, the call will grow until it’s all you can feel. I was anxious for Evander’s claim. Anxious to meet all of you. But he was beyond reason when he finally found me. Ravenous and resolute, as if he held the pressure of all the planets on his shoulders and would not be right until our bodies aligned.”

Darius dutifully lowered to the floor when she nudged him, kneeling at her feet and opening her knees. Aware of what she wanted, he pressed a kiss on her soft flesh and traced his tongue higher.

Lumira’s fingers tightened in his hair, drawing his mouth to her honeyed lips. “Do you know the story of the raven’s red leaf?” She eased back and moaned when he licked inside of her.

“Yes.” He rasped, nuzzling closer. He took his time savoring her rich flavor as he swirled his tongue through her delicate folds.

Stretching her arms overhead, she sighed. “Perhaps you need to hear it again.”

He moaned in agreement, his focus now on her pleasure.

“You see, when the Norse gods grew tired of man’s wars, they left a gift.” She stroked said gift down his arm. “The pelts were fit for heroes. The gods wanted to end the wars of man. But when the pelts were discovered, it was by a corrupt father and his trusting son, not the brave warriors the gods had hoped for.”

She gasped, rolling her hips, as he closed his lips around her sensitive pearl.

Her legs delicately quivered as she continued the story in a breathy rasp, “The father and son donned the pelts and transformed into wolves. A killing spree ensued. The father, easily intoxicated by power, led the rampage until there seemed no one left. Such greed for power corrupted his mind, and the father eventually attacked the son—his only heir—out of fear that the boy might usurp him as pack leader. But the son got away. Nevertheless, the father’s behavior angered the gods.”



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