The Witching Hour – Love Bitten Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love, Novella, Paranormal, Vampires, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
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We arrived back at our house just after six in the morning.

Celeste paused as she walked through the living room, staring at our Christmas tree. “What are those?” she queried, pointing at two more brightly wrapped presents.

“Open them and see,” I encouraged her with a wicked smile.

Celeste giggled as she retrieved the presents and brought them to the couch, where I’d taken a seat.

“The smaller one first,” I instructed.

Inside was a black ring covered in black diamonds and deep red rubies. At the center was a much larger black diamond, flanked by two more rubies.

Celeste gasped and covered her mouth.

“I know it isn’t traditional for vampires to wear rings,” I told her softly as I took it out of the box. “But the Bancrofts are a possessive bunch, and we like it when even humans recognize that our consorts have been claimed. Also, I know witches typically wear them, so I had this made for you.”

“It’s perfect,” she breathed, her voice clogged with tears. She threw her arms around me and pressed her lips to mine. The kiss quickly became heated, but I was anxious for her to open her last gift before we took things any further.

“Just one more, love,” I murmured as I grabbed the last present and set it on her lap.

She tore off the paper and opened the box, laughing when she saw the contents. “Seems like this is more of a gift for you,” she drawled when she held up the scraps of lace and silk.

I chuckled and stood, then swept her into my arms. “Let’s say it’s for both of us,” I suggested as I stalked to the stairs and jogged up to our bedroom.

“I think you’re going to have to convince me of that,” she teased.

Several hours later, we collapsed on the mattress, and I rolled onto my back before pulling her on top of me. “Convinced?” I asked, grinning smugly at her.

“Uh-huh,” she panted.

We were just dozing off a little while later when I heard her in my head.

I know what I want for my birthday.

EPILOGUE

CELESTE

Ren’s parents, brothers, and cousins had taught me so much about what it meant to be family. But I still felt as though I had so much to learn as I stared down into my son’s little face.

Rusten’s bright blue eyes—so much like his father’s—blinked up at me. His cheeks were plump, and his plush lips were puckered into a perfect bow. My hand trembled as I stroked my fingers through the tufts of his dark hair.

“Can you believe how perfect he is?” I whispered.

Ren cuddled closer against my side. “Yes, but only because he’s yours.”

I snorted. “Yet he looks like your perfect little replica.”

“There’s no denying that the Bancroft genes held true with our little one,” he agreed, tracing his finger over Rusten’s cheek. “But the shape of his eyes, nose, and lips are all yours.”

“Do you think so?” I asked, peering more closely at our son.

I loved how much he looked like Ren, but seeing some parts of myself reflected in him settled a need deep inside that I hadn’t even known was there. My relationship with my parents still wasn’t all that great, but holding this infant who was the perfect combination of my husband and me, I knew that I would do literally anything to ensure his happiness.

Now that I was experiencing the power of a mother’s love firsthand, I finally understood that my parents’ issues were their own. Not mine.

My mother’s inability to put my happiness first was on her. My dad’s choice to follow her lead for most of my life was his mistake.

Rusten’s needs came first. His well-being was my priority. There was nothing my son could ever do that would change that.

My only hope was that my mom and dad took their role as grandparents more seriously than they had as parents. Assuming Ren ever let them close enough to build a relationship with him.

Tilting my head back to look up at him, I asked, “Did you call my parents?”

Talulla and Basil had stuck close throughout my labor and delivery, lending us strength when we were most vulnerable. I hadn’t wanted my mom or dad there—I didn’t trust them enough for that—but with Rusten safely here, I felt a sudden urge to introduce my parents to my son.

“No.” His blue gaze was concerned as he scanned my face. “Do you want me to?”

Heaving a deep sigh, I considered my answer. There had been times during my pregnancy when I had wanted to call my mother to ask for advice, but I’d never followed through with the impulse. My reasons for keeping my distance were valid even though she and my dad had extended a few olive branches since the day they’d stood with my former coven against me.

My dad’s call had given us the time we needed to be prepared for the confrontation, so I had been able to extend him some grace. And since then, he’d called to check on me a few times. Especially after we told them I was pregnant.



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