Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
My mind races... Back to what my father told me about my mother.
She was so beautiful—she still is—and so intelligent. Tall and graceful and full of vigor.
My father described a woman I don’t know. But she’s a woman I’d like to know.
“She’ll fight you. You doesn't know who she truly is. She’ll ultimately choose her children over you.”
He laughs then. A sleazy demonic laugh. “She hasn’t yet.”
“She will. When she finds out who you truly are, she will.”
“I suppose we’ll see if you’re right,” he says. “In the meantime, though, consider this. You’re controlled by nature. Nature has led you to Rogan. But the laws of nature also tell us that what controls us can also be controlled.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
With another whoosh, I’m back with Rogan.
In his penthouse at the London. My muscles are sore and my legs are weak. But I’m here, and I’m still standing.
“Thank God!” He pulls me into his arms and kisses me.
I respond, of course. It’s my nature. I’m as mated to him as he is to me.
But I can’t help remembering Richard’s words.
His words about nature and about control.
And for a moment—even in the throes of Rogan's passionate and feral kiss—I feel like nothing more than a rat trapped in a maze.
51
Nature.
Control.
I’m controlled by my bond with Rogan, by my need for his blood.
And he’s controlled by…
By what?
What makes me his mate?
I break the kiss and gasp in a much-needed breath.
“Where were you?” he demands.
“With Richard. I don’t know how I got there. It was horrible. He forced me to kneel to him.”
“What?” Rogan grits out.
“I didn’t want to. He forced me. But I resisted. I was able to get up, and he couldn’t force me again. It was your blood, Rogan. Your blood gave me strength.”
“Good. My blood is yours, princess. Always.”
“I need it. I don’t like that I need it, but I do. I can’t live without it now. But you… What is it about me that binds you to me? You have no need of my blood.”
“But I need you. I can’t explain it any better than that.” He cups my cheek, pulls me back for another kiss—
But I resist.
And believe me, it’s damned difficult.
“No. Not until you explain it. I need to know. I have a physical need for what you offer me, and that is true regardless of the fact that I love you. And I do love you, Rogan, but what if I didn’t? I’d still need your blood. Yes, I’d still desire you, be drawn to you, but in the most basic sense, I need what your body supplies.”
“I wish I could explain it, princess. It’s a surprise to me as well. We’ve been through this.”
“I know. Fated mates kind of died out for your kind. I get it. But somehow you ended up with one. What I want to know is—what would happen to you if we couldn’t be together?”
“I’d die.”
“How? Why? I need your blood. My kind depends on blood, and now I’m pretty much addicted to yours. But why would you die?”
He rakes his fingers through his hair, which is a tangled mess. “I don’t have an answer. At least not one that will satisfy you.”
“Try one that won’t satisfy me, then.”
He laughs. A boisterous but sarcastic laugh. “What the fuck would be the point of that?”
I punch his shoulder. Hard. “The point is I’m asking. Your god damned mate is asking.”
“You know, Hannah? I love you desperately, and I can’t live without you, but no one on Earth can piss me off like you can.”
I scoff. “That’s a two-way street.”
“Is it? Because from where I’m standing, you live to drive me insane.”
“And what do you think you do to me? It’s worse for me, Rogan. I’m fucking addicted to your blood! I’ll die without your fucking blood! If you die tomorrow, we both die.”
He sighs. “That’s true no matter what. We’re bonded. Mated. Neither of us can live without the other now.”
“That’s bull.”
“Call it whatever you want, princess, but it’s the truth. And for what it’s worth? I don’t like it any more than you do.”
Rage curls up my spine. “Fuck you, Rogan!”
“Fuck you too!”
He’s on me, then. On me like we’re one body, and within seconds we’re naked, and he’s yanking my hair as he kisses my throat.
Throat…
God, his throat.
I want him. I want more. I want more blood—that lupine elixir that sates my hunger like nothing else.
I’m full. I fed recently, but still his blood calls to me, the song of the river as it flows through his veins, making its way to my ears, to my soul.
My cuspids snap downward, and this time I feel no pain. Only hunger. Pure lust and hunger.
I crane my head, slide my lips over his neck, dislodging him from mine, and sink my teeth into his delicious flesh.