Page 27 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)

He caught a fistful of Lander’s hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat. The younger vampire shuddered, but didn’t resist.

“Fuck,” Lander breathed, his hands gripped the couch cushions so tightly the fabric strained.

“Should I keep my distance from him?” Lander asked, his breathing ragged.

“No.” His fangs extended fully as he traced the throbbing vein in Lander’s neck with their sharp edge. A thin line of blood welled up, the scent intensifying Adam’s hunger. “He needs... connection. Stability. I won’t be his only point of contact.”

“I would welcome your bite... First,” Lander whispered, as his body shuddered in the face of Adam’s dominance.

A dark laugh escaped his throat, his grip in Lander’s hair tightening. “Would you submit to me?” Adam asked, voice low.

Adam moved his free hand down, pressing over the hard length straining against Lander’s trousers. The younger vampire hissed.

Lander swallowed. “I’m of your Court. You can do what you want.”

Before Adam could decide if he’d bite or break the moment, a knock shattered the tension. Oren stepped in, took one look at them, and paused.

“The Council is assembling,” he said evenly.

Adam straightened, smoothing his jacket. “We’ll be down shortly.”

Oren nodded, leaving without comment.

Lander sat frozen, breathing hard. “I should—”

“Yes.” Adam didn’t meet his gaze. “Go.”

As the door shut behind him, Adam braced his hands on his desk. So much he didn’t understand. So much he needed to learn.

Maybe it was time to stop dismissing research on compatibility. Maybe Felix’s notes were more valuable than he’d ever imagined.

He straightened his tie and went to meet his Court, though every step away from Leo felt harder than the last.

They gathered in the formal Council chamber, an elegant room designed specifically for these meetings.

Unlike the modern conference room at Nocturne’s headquarters with its sleek technology, this space honored older traditions.

A round table of polished ebony dominated the center, its surface gleaming under the lighting.

The six chairs surrounding it subtly reflected their occupants’ heritage while maintaining a cohesive aesthetic.

Adam’s and Oren’s seats incorporated Egyptian elements—scarabs and hieroglyphics etched into dark wood—while Maja’s and Lander’s chairs bore Nordic influences with clean lines and subtle rune accents.

Gaspard’s French-inspired design complemented Ilona’s chair, its Ukrainian folk patterns standing out even on the monitor that displayed her aboard the Court’s private jet.

“Let’s begin,” Adam said once Lander had taken his seat. “Ilona, how are the preliminary negotiations progressing?”

“Productive,” she replied, her image crisp on the screen. “I’ve attended several meetings by video conference, discussing trade arrangements. The neutral territory between our cities is up for discussion tomorrow when I arrive in person. They’re pushing for expanded access to the riverways.”

Adam nodded, making a mental note to review the proposed boundaries before the talks. “Oren, security update?”

Oren straightened slightly, his gaze sweeping the table before he spoke. “The Pack’s patrols have increased in number, but otherwise, nothing significant has changed. Nathaniel assures me they’ll report any unusual hunter activity immediately.”

Gaspard cleared his throat. “Regarding the Julian situation—he’s agreed to gift the building to the Coven.” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “In exchange for not starting a territory war. The young vampire was properly chastised.”

Adam inclined his head in approval before turning to Maja. Her demeanor remained cool and professional, though the edge in her voice hadn’t softened.

“Inter-court matters are stable,” she reported. “We have three requests for visits to friends abroad, all routine. Court members Vanessa and Christopher wish to travel to London next month for a gallery opening. And we have one new human ‘pet’ registration from Dmitri.”

“How many registered pets do we have now?” Adam asked.

Maja consulted her tablet. “Surprisingly, only fourteen, considering how large our Court has become. Most prefer more casual arrangements these days.”

Adam nodded, absorbing the information. The practice of keeping human ‘pets’ as private blood sources had been common for centuries but was falling out of favor, at least among his Court. Modern vampires often preferred more informal arrangements or pre-sourced alternatives.

The meeting continued for another few hours, as the Council worked through concerns affecting their territory. Adam listened attentively, offered guidance where needed, but part of his awareness remained fixed on Leo’s presence upstairs.

When they finally adjourned near two in the morning, Lander departed quickly, avoiding eye contact. Maja lingered, as if she intended to say something more, but ultimately left with a formal nod. Only Oren remained, his eyes steady and assessing.

“Is everything all right between you and Lander?” he asked, his tone measured.

Adam met his gaze. “Yes,” he said, then paused. “And also no. I’m... unsure. I need time to work it out.”

Oren moved to the sideboard and poured two glasses of bloodwine without asking.

He handed one to Adam before settling into a chair with the effortless composure that came from thousands of years of existence.

His movements were economical, nothing wasted—a trait that had served him well as Head of Security longer than most nations had existed.

“What I saw tonight reminds me of Radu’s research,” Oren said without preamble.

Adam’s attention sharpened. Oren rarely spoke of his time in Radu’s Court during the seventeenth century—those decades away from Adam’s side, before Radu’s fall from grace and the slaughter of his followers.

“They were studying blood bonds,” Oren continued, his expression neutral but his eyes watchful. “Not just traditional compatibility, but its variations—and the effects on those in proximity to compatible pairs.”

“I remember your reports when you returned,” Adam said. “Though you focused primarily on their... other experiments.” The raising of the dead as vampires—the violation that had ultimately ended Radu’s reign.

“Those abominations were what drove me to leave,” Oren confirmed.

“But before that, I observed their work on resonance bonds. Secondary connections forming between those closely associated with a blood-compatible pair.” He set his glass down with precise care.

“They documented cases where strong compatibility created ripple effects. Their research was incomplete and afterward tainted by their other transgressions. I shared what seemed relevant with you and Miroslav, but the resonance data felt more theoretical than concerning.”

“Until now,” Adam said quietly.

“Until now,” Oren agreed. “What I witnessed tonight between you and Lander matches their findings. Not a true bond—an echo. A resonance triggered by your compatibility with Leo.”

Adam studied him, considering this from a fresh angle. “Did Radu’s researchers determine any purpose for these resonances?”

“They had theories,” Oren said carefully. “The most compelling was that secondary bonds serve to strengthen and stabilize the primary bond.”

The implications were impossible to ignore. “You’re not concerned about security risks?”

“I’ve already adjusted patrol rotations and monitoring protocols,” Oren said with quiet confidence.

“But I’ve learned over centuries that unexpected doesn’t automatically mean threatening.

” He paused. “In fact, throughout our existence, your greatest strengths have often come from embracing the unforeseen.”

Adam let out a slow breath. “What’s your assessment, then—as my head of security?”

“Monitor, but don’t restrict,” Oren said immediately. “Document everything you experience. Watch for patterns.” He hesitated. “And consider this: in uncertain times, with hunters regrouping and alliances shifting, multiple strong connections in your inner circle could become a powerful asset.”

Adam weighed that, reminded again why Oren had always been his most trusted advisor. He didn’t just see danger—he saw possibility.

“And your personal opinion?” Adam asked, his voice lower.

Oren rose smoothly. “That in four thousand years, I’ve never known you to shy away from complexity when it offered potential benefit.” He inclined his head slightly. “Whatever you decide, you have my support.”

The simple conviction in those words reminded Adam why Oren had stayed by his side when so many others had drifted into their own territories—or into ennui.

“Goodnight, Adam,” Oren said as he moved toward the door.

“Oren,” Adam called after him. When the older vampire paused, Adam added, “Thank you.”

A slight nod was his only reply before he disappeared into the hall, leaving Adam alone with too many thoughts.

When everyone had gone, Adam made one final circuit of the mansion before heading upstairs. Even from the first floor, he could sense Leo’s presence—awake, restless.

He paused at the foot of the grand staircase. Leo was in the north wing guest rooms, while Adam’s suite lay down the opposite hall. The distance felt wrong.

For a moment, he nearly turned toward Leo’s room. His fangs lengthened at the thought, his body responding before his mind could intervene. He could hear Leo’s elevated heartbeat through the walls—the young hunter wasn’t sleeping either.

Adam gripped the banister, the wood creaking under the strain. Four thousand years of self-control, and this hunter was testing every shred of it.

At last, he forced himself to turn away. Each step toward his suite felt like wading upstream.

Inside, he poured a scotch and moved to the windows overlooking the grounds. Somewhere out there, the Rothenburgs were regrouping—or they’d already decided Leo wasn’t worth reclaiming.

The scotch burned as he swallowed, but it didn’t touch the deeper hunger. That was the problem: this claim was affecting him more than he’d anticipated. More than he’d ever admit aloud.

And then there was Lander. That unexpected resonance had caught him off guard—not what he felt for Leo, but strong enough to drive him to instinct over reason.

Adam tried to focus on the security reports waiting on his desk, but his attention kept drifting back to the north wing, to Leo’s room.

He set the papers aside. Leo needed time to adjust. To breathe. If he pushed now, it would only confirm every lesson the hunters had taught him about vampires.

Tomorrow, they would talk.

Tonight, he would give Leo space.

Even if every instinct screamed to do the opposite.