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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“I’ll go with her,” I offered with a big grin as I strode toward them from the darkness.

“Uncle Ren,” Maxine screamed as she threw herself into my arms.

My smile faltered when I got a good look at her, and I gasped in shock before turning accusing eyes to my sister-in-law. “Is that a fucking vampire costume?” I growled, losing my normally calm and respectful demeanor.

“Yup.” Maxine grinned up at me, while several nearby parents glared at me for my crude language. “Marshall’s a vampire, too.”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know what to say.” I was stunned that Braeden would allow his kids to wear these costumes. Although, judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t happy with the situation. But his consort, Callidora, was clearly amused by his grouchy attitude.

“I’m being i-iro—” Maxine heaved a sigh of frustration and asked, “What was it again, Mommy?”

“Ironic, sweetie.”

She nodded as she tugged on my wrist to lead me up to the house she’d been afraid of. But with her brother almost to the door, it seemed she was now in a rush to get up there too. “Uh-huh. That.”

“You do realize you’re going to have your hands full when she’s a teenager, right?” I murmured to Callidora as we flanked her daughter and hurried up the sidewalk.

“Absolutely.” She beamed a smile my way and used telepathy to add, But at least we won’t have to deal with the boy-crazy stage human parents go through.

My laughter hung in the air when we reached the steps to the house. It wasn’t difficult to guess how the rumor that it was haunted had gotten started since the owner had done a great job decorating for Halloween. The ceiling over the covered porch was swathed with cobwebs, and a convincing-looking witch’s broom was propped in the corner. A black cat peered out the first-floor window, and candles flickered upstairs. The woman who opened the door was dressed in a long hooded black cape, and a smoking cauldron sat on a table to her left.

“Twick or tweat,” Marshall cried, smiling up at her as he held out his bag.

I walked Maxine up to stand next to her brother so she could get her share of the loot, too. When she echoed the saying, the witch held a bowl of candy out to them. “The two of you are such convincing vampires, I think you should get extra treats. Go ahead and pick out a few.”

She had a low, husky voice, very pleasant to the ear, and I could understand how a man would be aroused by it. However, it was just an observation because I had no physical reaction to her. Daywalkers were born with a fated mate, their perfect match, and our bodies would only physically react to that person. Unfortunately, there was no guarantee that any of us would ever find our consort. It was a fucking miracle that my brothers and some of my cousins had stumbled across their fated mates. And I meant that almost literally since touch was the only way to recognize your mate.

The women were always born after the men, but it was easy to lose hope when you’d lived for over half a millennium. Your fated mate could have come and gone—not all of them were vampires—and you’d never know it.

“Yay!” Maxine did a little excited dance while she waited for her brother to grab his candy. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” When she pulled the bowl close to her body again, a few pieces fell out. “Oops, sorry. I’m not usually quite so clumsy.”

“No worries.” I stepped forward and bent low to retrieve the candy she’d dropped. Instead of dropping them back into the bowl, I handed them directly to her. Our fingers brushed, and I hissed in surprise when my skin sizzled as heat shot through my body. She snatched her hand back, and I felt the loss of her touch in every nerve. My cock sprang to life. The faint smell of brimstone filled the air, and power swirled around me and my consort, who appeared to be a witch…fuck.

This would be complicated.

I was fucking ecstatic to have found my fated mate, but witches and vampires didn’t often run in the same circles—to put it mildly. Witches looked down their noses at our kind. It wasn’t always the case, but it was certainly a common enough occurrence for us to expect their disdain upon meeting.

So I was relieved when she raised her eyes to mine, and there was only surprise. And desire.

She was utterly gorgeous. Big brown eyes stood out against her pale, porcelain skin, rimmed with thick dark lashes. A pretty blush bloomed on her cheeks, accentuating her plump red lips. Her height was average, but I was tall, so her head had dropped back when she looked up at me, dislodging her hood. Shiny inky-black hair fell in waves down her back.



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