Page 57 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

My breath caught. He thought I was beautiful? How? My entire life I’d gone out of my way to be unnoticeable. Bland clothes, bland hair, bland personality. Everything to blend into the background. Yet to hear him say those words, so casually, as though him thinking so were the most obvious thing in the world, set off a fire inside me I didn’t know how to quench. Heat, flutters, a slow pooling of lava that migrated from my stomach down between my legs.

“That’s the bond talking,” I breathed, needing to convince myself as much as to remind him.

“Damn inconvenient thing, that.” The rumble of frustration riding his words made me wish the bond didn’t exist. That this moment were actually happening.

I turned to apologize to him again and found him looking at me, his crimson eyes catching the light before joining the shadows in inky voids. My pulse raced, and I ordered myself to look away and return my attention to the storm. Or better yet, get the rest I would so desperately need to tackle the trek up the mountain. But my body disobeyed. My breath sped up, and with every inhale, I took in more of Cammon’s scent. My vampiric instincts awoke, and I picked up the racing of his heartbeat, the rush of his delicious blood. His gaze swept over my body, and my already hard nipples tingled with want. I clenched my hands around my blanket to stop myself from reaching for him.

This was wrong. I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t want anything to do with him beyond having him guide me through a den of hungry, fire-breathing dragons. I most definitely shouldn’t take advantage of the bond I no longer felt buzzing between us but knew was there.

He moved closer—just close enough that his breath fanned my cheek. It was scented with the same sweet spices that drifted off his skin. The demonic allure was strong with this prince, and I leaned into it, unable to resist.

“Glory…”

My name on his lips, yet it sounded like more than that. As though he were describing me.

My lips parted, eager to taste him. Twice before, I’d savoured the feel of his mouth, and the craving for him pressed every other thought out of my head. Evaniel could call me on the messaging crystal right now, and I would debate answering.

A noise caught my ear from beyond the storm, and I froze. Cammon tensed. The rain had tapered off, and in the relative silence, he must have heard something else because his eyes flew wide, and in another heartbeat, he was on his feet, his spine hunched beneath the low ceiling.

The noise came again. Our traps going off, tree branches and twigs cracking. If not for my heightened senses thanks to my current state of arousal, I would never have heard it. Cammon’s nose twitched, and I tried to pick up what he might have detected. Unfortunately, my vampirism didn’t do much to enhance my smell until blood was spilled, but I did hear the faintest of heartbeats. Many of them. Rapid and stressed.

“Shifters?” I asked in barely a whisper.

He shook his head, and dread pooled in my gut. Mutts.

I didn’t hesitate to grab my bags. We’d have to abandon the tent, but if I could salvage the bedroll, blanket, and our last map, we could make do. With shaking hands, I stuffed my still-wet clothes into my bag along with everything else, but when I glanced at Cammon, he hadn’t moved except to widen his stance and clench his hands at his sides. He was readying himself for a fight, which meant we’d run out of time to escape.

Casting a hopeful glance at my bags, praying they’d still be here when we finished—and that we were victorious—I shifted into a crouch, sank into my vampiric power, and tapped into my strength. My fangs and nails elongated, my night vision sharpened, and my muscles grew more limber. Whatever was about to come at us, they wouldn’t find us unprepared. Hopefully whatever I’d learned in our fight with the shifters wouldn’t forsake me tonight.

The high-pitched shriek of a hawk cut through the night, giving our enemy away, and I took the sign to mean they were just as ready as we were.

Cammon’s wide shoulder shoved me out of the way as he grabbed something from his bag, and then he sprinted out of the tent towards whatever awaited us.

I hesitated behind him, remembering my fight with the drake and how close I’d come to breathing my last. Yet I couldn’t let him go out there and face whatever had come for us alone.

With a deep breath, I charged out of the tent and came to a stop beside Cammon. His horns were out and his skin appeared almost leather-like.

“Whatever it takes to stay alive?” he said. “Do that.”

And then he was gone, running for an enemy I had yet to see.

Following the sound of the nearest heartbeat, I veered left into the trees and threw myself at a twisted half-wolf stalking towards the clearing. It hadn’t expected me to move so quickly, but that didn’t mean I’d taken it by surprise. It lurched to the side before I tackled it, and I landed on my feet, the mud squelching beneath my bare soles. The wolf turned its head towards me, and I got my first good look at it. The face was full wolf, fangs and eyes and slavering maw terrifying in their aggression. Strips of fur sprouted from its body, and its legs were bent at awkward canine angles. But as it rose on two feet, I took in the muscled torso and the flaccid human penis low on its pelvis. Everything about the creature messed with my mind, and I could only imagine the agony he had to be in, permanently caught mid-shift.

But I had no room for compassion when he came at me again. I leapt at him. My footing slipped in the muck, and I caught him at the hips instead of the waist, with too little force to knock him onto his back. Strong arms wrapped around my middle and flipped me upside down. I circled my legs around his neck, pulled myself up, and drove my sharpened claws into his back on either side of his spine. His teeth sank into my thigh, and I screamed and stabbed again, this time aiming for his neck. Blood spurted between my fingers as the creature collapsed, and I somersaulted off him towards my next foe.

Ahead in the darkness, I spotted Cammon surrounded by enemies, the mutts having no doubt targeted him as the greater threat. His tail was extended, fending off a coyote that dared get too close while he faced another wolf, this one distinctly female if no less mutilated. Three wolves lunged for his legs, and he used their momentum against them, grabbing one and hurling it into another. More mutts crept up around them, black and gold and silver fur of animals I couldn’t identify.

I started to run in their direction, but a snapping twig caught my ear, and I whipped around to find a bear limping my way with an uneven gait. One of his legs was human, the other was animal, the two halves of him blending together until I couldn’t tell which was which. Even his face was split in two, with one side sliding into the longer muzzle of the bear while the other was twisted into a tortured human grimace.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a guttural roar came out. I didn’t give him time to attempt anything further before I flew at him. Cammon knew my secret now. There was no point holding back.

But my best was hardly good enough against the massive strength of the bear. He slapped his paw across my face, and I went airborne before I smashed into a tree trunk and slumped to the ground. Pain screamed up my spine, and my legs tingled, but I forced myself to shake it off. The bear was on me, and I rallied before he could follow up his attack. From a crouch, I pounced on him and sank my fangs into the human side of his neck. Putrid blood filled my mouth, and I worked hard not to gag as I cut through flesh and ripped out his throat.

As soon as he fell, I spat out the fetid liquid and turned to the next. The dozens of next. They’d crept out of the woods while my attention had been focused on the bear, and I found myself staring down a swarm of assorted beasts. Wolves, coyotes, bears, weasels—there were so many. Too many. There was no way, even at full strength, I’d be able to fight them off. My magic rose, but as always, I pushed it away. This time, however, I didn’t tamp it completely. Using it would be a last resort, knowing the amount of damage I could cause—and the risk to Cammon—but I would not go down without giving these bastards my all.

Except their attention wasn’t on me but on something over my shoulder. A warm hand closed around my arm, and I spun on my heel, ready to strike, stopping only when I recognized Cammon’s pained sneer. He tightened his grip on me and tugged me towards him. “We need to run!”

I agreed. Our belongings were as good as lost, but I accepted the sacrifice if it meant escaping with our lives. Cammon extended his wings, and he scooped me up as he ran, launching himself into the air. I worried the exertion would be too much for his singed feathers, but he took us above the trees without any obvious difficulty, his intention fixed on getting us away from this fight as quickly as he could.