Page 15 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)

Adam blinked, unsettled by his own reaction. The thought didn’t feel like him. Not truly. For five millennia, he had ruled by loyalty, not cruelty. But this impulse to correct, to punish—it clawed at the edges of his restraint like something feral trying to break free.

He inhaled slowly, centering himself. The bond had frayed his discipline. That was all. A side effect. Temporary.

He would need to be cautious.

Leo slumped in his arms, wrecked and pliant, his breathing evening out in the hush. Adam adjusted his hold, feeling the faint tremor still running through him. The bond pulsed again—satisfied.

Lander shifted, as if unsure whether he was dismissed. Adam glanced at him, reading the tight set of his jaw, the flush creeping down his neck. Shame and something raw tangled in his scent.

“You should have waited,” Adam said, voice measured but low enough that Leo wouldn’t catch the words.

Lander flinched, but didn’t lift his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. His hand flexed against his thigh. “It… wasn’t intentional.”

Adam considered him for a long moment, feeling the hunger in his chest subside just enough for clarity. “No,” he agreed, more to himself than Lander. “It wasn’t.”

He shifted Leo’s weight carefully and brushed a hand over Lander’s shoulder—acknowledgment and dismissal at once. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said, voice neutral. “Your insight was helpful.”

Lander’s throat bobbed in a swallow. “Of course, First.”

“Adam,” he corrected gently. The name felt important in that moment—something human in the wreckage of power. “Call me Adam.”

“Of course… Adam.”

But something had shifted. Adam could hear it in the careful way Lander spoke his name, could smell the complicated mix of emotions rolling off the younger vampire.

This would need addressing, but not now.

Not while Leo was still recovering, and the bond was still singing through Adam’s veins like electricity.

He turned his attention to dressing Leo with deliberate care, the soft clothes a comfort Maja had chosen wisely. Leo stirred only slightly as Adam maneuvered him into the garments, pliant and trusting in his exhaustion.

“Some water would be helpful, Lander,” Adam said as he pulled the waistband up. “And a quiet place where he can recover.”

Lander nodded once and moved ahead of them, leading the way into the corridor. Adam followed, one arm around Leo’s waist to steady him. His hunter’s balance improved with each step, though his expression remained dazed, caught between satiation and confusion.

Adam’s mind had fully returned to him. The fog of the bond had receded, though the warmth of it still pulsed through his senses—especially in the way Leo’s scent clung to his skin, mingled with his own. But beneath it, he could smell Lander.

Arousal. Humiliation. Pride held too tightly in his chest. And under it all, confusion.

It stirred something unexpected in Adam—not hunger, not quite, but possession.

Without thinking, his free hand extended, brushing lightly along the side of Lander’s face as they walked.

His fingertips trailed from cheekbone to jaw, down the curve of his neck in a shifter’s touch, instinctive and territorial. Marking without a bite.

Lander flinched, his steps faltering as he turned his head slightly, casting a wary glance over his shoulder.

Adam held his gaze for a beat, then withdrew his hand slowly. He hadn’t meant to do it. Or maybe he had.

“Will this…” Adam’s voice dropped, more to himself than anyone else. “Will I lose control like that again?”

Lander didn’t look back this time, his reply thoughtful, if uneasy. “I’ll need to ask my parents for specifics... but likely, yes. At least at first.” A pause. “They would know best.”

Adam said nothing, but his grip on Leo’s waist tightened just slightly.

“And will I just roll over like some trained pet?” Leo’s voice was rough but carried an edge of frustration. “Because I’m not—I’m not whatever that was back there. Or in the council room. Or the garage. What is wrong with me?”

A small smile tugged at Lander’s mouth. “I’ll ask about that, too. Though I don’t recall their dynamic…” His voice trailed off as he visibly tried not to think too deeply about his parents’ relationship.

“Thank you, Lander,” Adam said, then paused, considering. “What are your thoughts on this hunter—the one gathering information about us?”

Leo stiffened under Adam’s arm. “What? How did you—” His face paled. “Oh god, what hunter?”

Adam and Lander exchanged a look. “Leo,” Adam said gently, “you told us about Felix. Just now, in the alcove.”

“I…” Leo’s brow furrowed. “I don’t remember talking. At all.”

Something twisted in Adam’s chest at Leo’s confusion. He made a silent vow not to take advantage of such vulnerability in the future, even as part of him thrilled at how completely Leo had submitted.

“About Felix,” Lander redirected smoothly, “it might be worth bringing him in. Or at least acquiring his notebooks. Is he in Boston?”

Leo’s pause was telling.

“He’s here,” Adam said, not a question. “In Porte du Coeur. In Innsbrook.”

Leo’s silence confirmed it. Adam could feel the reluctance rolling off him in waves. While it would be simple enough for Oren to canvas every rental property, confronting a hunter in their residence was rarely wise.

“Where does he go when he’s not being a hunter?” Adam asked, his tone deceptively casual.

When Leo remained silent, Adam’s hand slid down to grip his ass, fingers pressing against his still-sensitive entrance through the sweatpants.

Leo sucked in a sharp breath at the pressure. “The Fourth Cat,” he blurted. “He spends a lot of time at the Moulin Coeur. There’s this Vaudeville act he never misses.”

Adam knew the act immediately. Three members of his Night Court performed there regularly. A glance at Lander showed the younger vampire was equally aware.

As they approached the mansion’s entrance, Adam turned to Lander. “Find him. Bring him to me.”

“No!” Leo’s protest was immediate, his body tensing.

“Gently, Lander,” Adam amended, his fingers flexing against Leo’s hip. “We’re not looking to start a war.”

“You already have,” Leo mumbled.

“They don’t know that yet, beauty.”

Lander nodded. “Of course... Adam.” And with supernatural speed, he vanished.

Adam guided Leo through the mansion’s grand hallways, past several closed doors, to a stately guest suite on the third floor.

Just before he could open the door, he caught sight of Maja.

Her face was an expressionless mask, but her eyes tracked their movement with sharp attention.

He guided Leo inside, noting how the hunter’s gaze swept over the space, wide-eyed, before he shut the door behind them.

The guest suite was designed for visiting dignitaries: a blend of luxury and quiet comfort without being ostentatious.

Antique Persian rugs softened the dark hardwood floors, while carefully chosen artwork adorned the walls.

A king-sized bed dominated one wall, dressed in deep burgundy silk that caught the dim light.

The furniture was all solid mahogany, worn smooth by centuries of careful use.

Adam guided Leo further into the room, watching for his reaction.

“This will be your room,” he said, feeling the exhaustion and anxiety warring in Leo’s trembling frame.

“I thought you might prefer your own space.” The words tasted strange on his tongue.

In five millennia, he had never felt compelled to offer a lover their own territory within his domain.

Leo stumbled slightly, taking in the room’s grandeur. “My own...?” The gratitude in his voice satisfied something deep in Adam’s chest, but it quickly gave way to that damnable hunter’s focus. “Thank you, but... why can’t I remember telling you about Felix? How is that even possible?”

Irritation flared. Here he was, offering Leo a sanctuary, something unprecedented in his existence—and his hunter was fixated on what he’d confessed while pliant and undone.

Every possessive instinct wanted to drag him to Adam’s own chambers and keep him close.

But he’d lived long enough to recognize the necessity of offering Leo some independence, even if he hated it.

“I would prefer you in my bed,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a rumble that made Leo shiver deliciously against him.

“But you should have your own space.” His fingers tightened on Leo’s hips, unable to suppress the possessive reflex. “As for Felix... that’s a conversation for when you’re more coherent. Blood compatibility affects us both in ways I don’t fully understand.”

Adam steered him gently toward the ensuite bathroom, supporting more of Leo’s weight as his steps grew unsteady.

“But first,” he said, voice soft but unyielding, “we need to get you cleaned up.”

The bathroom was impressive without being ostentatious, all cream marble and brushed nickel fixtures. The shower was large enough for two, enclosed in glass that fogged almost instantly with steam.

Adam stripped off Leo’s borrowed clothes, already damp where his release had soaked through the fabric, before shedding his own. He adjusted the water temperature with practiced ease, then guided Leo under the spray.

Leo swayed, his head tipping forward as the water poured over them.

Adam stepped in behind him, one arm wrapping securely around his waist to hold him steady.

With his free hand, he reached for the soap, working methodically over Leo’s skin, his touch clinical despite the intimacy of the places he cleaned.

“You’re sending Lander after Felix,” Leo mumbled, voice low and raw, as Adam worked shampoo through his hair.

“Yes,” Adam said, angling his head back to rinse. His fingers ghosted over the marks on Leo’s throat, washing away the last traces of dried blood.

“Felix’s notes may help us understand what’s happening.”

“And if they don’t?”

“I don’t have an answer for that right now, my hunter.” His tone was measured, almost weary. “Your people came to hunt me and mine. Felix’s future—their future—I cannot say.”

Adam finished rinsing Leo’s hair. The water ran clear now, all traces of their earlier claiming washing down the drain. Only the fresh bite marks remained stark against pale skin.

“Can you stand on your own for a moment?” His voice was low, careful.

A slight nod was all he received. Adam let go, watching as Leo braced himself against the tile, muscles trembling with exhaustion.

He reached for a plush towel from the warming rack, drying them both with efficient movements. Leo’s eyes kept drifting shut, only to snap open again, confusion and weariness warring in his expression.

Without comment, Adam guided him out of the bathroom to the bed.

“Sleep,” he commanded softly. He hesitated a moment before lowering himself behind Leo. This wasn’t his bed, wasn’t his space to claim, but the thought of leaving Leo alone in this state felt impossible.

“I can stay until you fall asleep, if you’d like.”

Leo didn’t answer, but his body curled instinctively back against Adam’s chest, seeking warmth or reassurance or both. His breathing evened out, slow and steady, the rhythms of sleep already taking hold.

Through the windows, Adam could see the first hints of dawn bleeding over the horizon. Soon, the automated shutters would seal the room in darkness, hiding them from a world that wouldn’t understand.

He held his Claim close, breathing in the mingled scents on Leo’s skin. He knew he should leave, give him the space this room was meant to provide.

But for now, he let himself enjoy this moment of quiet, knowing tomorrow would bring its own challenges.