Page 116 of Bitten Vampire

The Herald steps forward to intervene, but the same aide who collected the paperwork slashes at him with aknife. He clutches his throat as blood spurts between his fingers, then collapses, choking.

The Grand Master’s eyes burn as they lock on me. “You will do as I say.”

The command slams into my head; my body almost nods on instinct. Valdarr’s grip tightens on my hand, anchoring me.

He’s growling.

“Bring her to me,” his father orders.

I have no time to flinch before a hand clamps around my arm and yanks me forward away from Valdarr.

“Tony? What are you?—”

His eyes are glazed, empty. Horror chills me: he’s been compelled, too.

“Stop him,” the Grand Master demands. As Valdarr lunges, my name on his lips, Ralph bear-hugs him from behind. Harrison piles on, then James. Even together they barely hold him. He roars, muscles straining, teeth bared.

Tony’s iron grip drags me across the floor towards the platform. I am strong, but I’m still only a baby vampire and no match for him. “Tony, let go! You are hurting me!”

The Grand Master smiles, smug and cruel. He drifts closer, a ripple of compulsion sweeping the air like heat lightning.

“You are mine now,” he says. His power slams into my mind like a wave. “You love me. I am your mate.”

“You love me. I am your mate,” I echo.

I love him.

He is my mate.

I glance at my mate on the platform. Why does despair and fear coil inside me?

Why… why won’t my body move of its own accord?

Why am I being dragged across the room, a vampire’s grip bruising my arm?

Why does my hand stretch behind me, clawing at the air, reaching for something?

Reaching for…

I look back and seehim—beautiful, fierce—a handsome vampire. He’s fighting two, no, three opponents, his movements a blur of strength and precision. He lifts his head, and his violet-grey eyes lock on mine.

And I remember.

Flash—the yellow door.

Flash—the hoodie.

Flash—the rescue at the border station.

Flash—the kiss.

Flash. Flash. Flash. The memories slam into me. His voice echoes in my mind:“You, Winifred Crowsdale, are perfection. My sunshine in the dark.”

Our bond blazes to life. His blood, singing in my veins, ignites, not with pain but with power. My head pounds as Valdarr’s strength floods through me, wrapping me in steel, shielding my mind.

I bare my fangs at the Grand Master. “No. Not happening.”

“Oh, it will,” he says, licking his lips. The burgundy has swallowed his dark grey irises; his eyes are entirely red. “I still remember how you tasted. You are mine. Your mate—my useless son—will be dead in moments.”