Page 31 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)

Leo groaned, embarrassment pulsing through him as he dressed, painfully aware of each step and bend, pushing more of Adam’s release from his body. His boxers would be wet in minutes—again. At least he had underwear this time, unlike during the council meeting, where he’d been left in only jeans.

The memory sent another flush over his skin. Everyone in that room had smelled Adam inside him, watched the wet spot spreading across the fabric. At least this time he was clothed, even if the evidence would soak through soon enough.

“I will show you where the camera was,” Adam said, voice still carrying the edge of that earlier growl.

He guided Leo through the house, a warm hand at the small of his back.

They stepped through the conservatory into the gardens, the evening breeze cool on Leo’s overheated skin.

They followed a gravel path to the woods bordering the manicured grounds, stopping at a small shed.

Adam pointed to an obvious gap where a camera should have been.

Leo studied the mount, instincts already cataloging details even as part of him hesitated. He could still walk away from this final betrayal. But he knew he wouldn’t.

“When was it noticed missing?” he asked quietly.

“A few hours ago,” Adam replied. “Oren saw the daylight loop on the feed during his evening check.”

Leo nodded. “That’s why he wants the system upgraded?”

“Yes. He wants tampering alerts.”

Leo turned toward Adam, searching his face. “I’m not going anywhere, am I?”

Adam’s smile was almost sad. “No, beauty. Your former life is gone.”

“They really abandoned me,” Leo said, voice soft. The words tasted bitter.

“It appears that way,” Lander said gently. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Leo drew a long, steadying breath. The ache of it pressed against his ribs, but under the grief, something else settled: a strange, quiet freedom. They’d made their choice. Now he would make his.

“You have another traitor,” he said, voice firmer. “Jackson couldn’t have looped that feed alone. This is a probe. They’re testing you.”

Adam’s jaw flexed. “Explain.”

“They want to see how you react. Whether you’ll assume it was an accident. Whether you’ll hunt Jackson down. Whether you’ll upgrade your security. Every answer teaches them something.”

His hands moved as he spoke, punctuating each point—old training surfacing without thought.

“This is the first of many. They’ll escalate.

Test response times. Maybe stage an incident elsewhere in PDC to draw you off Innsbrook.

They’ll measure how fast your Court mobilizes, how the pack responds, whether the Coven intervenes.

They might even engineer an ‘accident’ to see how quickly your medical staff reacts. ”

Lander’s brows pulled together. “All of that just for reconnaissance?”

Leo nodded. “They’re mapping your entire ecosystem, not just planning a strike.”

Adam’s expression was unreadable. “The solstice,” he said slowly. “If this is only testing, will the attack still come then?”

Leo hesitated, staring at the empty mount. “No. The timeline’s wrong. For a target like you, we’d strike fast, clean, decisive. Not this... slow circling.”

“What does it mean?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know.” Frustration bled into his voice. “And that terrifies me. Because whatever this is? It’s bigger than anything I was trained for.”

Silence settled, broken only by the evening chorus of crickets starting up in the trees.

“So this,” Lander said, gesturing at the missing camera, “is just the beginning.”

Leo swallowed. “Yes.”

“When should we expect their next test?”

“Soon,” Leo said. “They won’t wait long. They’ll want to keep you off balance.”

Adam rubbed the bridge of his nose, power coiling under his skin. “Let’s return inside.”

They walked back in silence, the gravel path crunching beneath their feet.

Leo wrestled with the consequences of his actions: betraying hunter protocols and divulging tactical knowledge to the very creatures he was raised to hunt.

But for the first time in weeks, he was useful rather than ornamental.

When they reached the parlor, Leo noticed all the windows and doors stood open, servants discreetly airing out the room. Heat crept up his neck as he recalled exactly why that was necessary.

They walked back along the gravel path, each step echoing in the hush. Leo felt the weight of his choices pressing down. He’d crossed the line. Betrayed the last of his family’s secrets. But for the first time, he felt like he’d done it for something that mattered.

When they reached the parlor, the windows and doors stood open, servants quietly airing out the room. Heat crept up his neck at the memory of why.

Adam guided him to the couch again. Lander settled beside them without hesitation. The familiarity of it all was surreal—like he belonged here. Like he’d always belonged.

Adam texted Oren, and within moments, the security chief materialized in the doorway. Leo shifted, acutely aware that this vampire had seen him naked and thoroughly used not an hour ago. Oren’s expression remained professionally neutral, but Leo caught the subtle assessment in his eyes.

Adam outlined what Leo had shared, his deep voice calm but edged with menace. Oren’s frown deepened, his hands already moving over the tablet.

“I’ll speak to Nathaniel about increasing patrols,” Oren said. “And have alerts sent to the Court, the pack, the Coven. No unnecessary travel.”

“They’ll be targets too?” Lander asked.

“We’re all connected,” Oren said quietly. “If they want to unravel this Court, they’ll test every thread.”

“Agreed.” Adam caressed Leo’s spine as he spoke. “Summon everyone home. Including Ilona, I know she just left.”

Leo sensed the magnitude of that decision settling over the room.

Even with his limited understanding of vampire politics, he recognized what it meant for Adam to pull his people close.

That they were including him in these discussions, asking for his input rather than just keeping him as decoration, sent a warm sensation through his chest.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Oren asked, his attention focusing on Leo with sharp intensity.

Leo drew in a breath and spoke before he could second-guess himself. “They’ll want to know about any unusual abilities among your Court members. Daywalking. Influence over humans. Any alliances they haven’t documented. Business holdings that could be used as leverage.”

Oren nodded, already making notes. “I’ll compile a risk assessment based on that framework and expand it where I can.”

Adam dismissed him with a nod, returning to his work. Beside Leo, Lander pulled out his tablet. Familiar animation flickered across the screen.

“Is that Archer?” Leo asked, surprised.

“You know it? I loved it when it first came out. I enjoy rewatching it.” Lander’s smile carried a hint of relief.

“Love it. It’s a classic.” Without thinking, Leo leaned against Lander’s shoulder, drawn by the simple normalcy of it.

The vampire stiffened, and they both glanced at Adam, but he remained intent on his laptop.

Well, Leo thought, in for a penny... He shifted closer, making himself comfortable against Lander’s side.

After a tense moment, Lander relaxed. They settled into an easy rhythm, sharing quiet laughter and sidelong glances whenever a line landed perfectly.

Outside the windows, the sky deepened to velvet, stars peeking through the trees. A yawn escaped Leo before he could stop it.

“Do vampires really need as little sleep as we were taught?” he asked, voice thick with fatigue.

Adam finally looked up from his screen. “How much were you told?”

Leo shrugged, still resting against Lander. “Few hours during the day for second generation. Practically none for the first.”

Adam’s laugh rumbled through the quiet. “No, beauty. Remember? We’re mostly human, though I don’t need eight hours.

I usually retire around two in the morning.

I adjusted my schedule to overlap with the Court’s younger members—those who can’t walk in the sun.

But it gives me time for Nocturne’s work as well.

” He checked his phone. “If you’re tired, it’s only ten. I can send Lander to bed with you.”

“I... what?” Lander’s smooth composure cracked.

Adam’s smirk held an unmistakable edge. “The staff has moved your things to the Mistress Suite adjoining our bedroom. You’ll occupy it from now on.” His gaze pinned Lander. “I trust there won’t be a problem?”

Leo blinked, heat prickling across his skin. Lander next door? The implications sent anticipation curling low in his belly, even as questions crowded in. Why arrange this? What did Adam expect between the three of them?

“No, First.” Lander’s answer came quickly, if not entirely smoothly.

“Good. Plan to maintain Leo’s schedule, as you have this past week.”

“I can start adjusting mine,” Leo offered, too tired to care that he was volunteering for even more entanglement.

Something softened in Adam’s expression. “That would be generous of you. Thank you.”

The simple gratitude caught Leo off guard. It didn’t feel like a concession, not compared to everything else that had shifted in his life.

Lander shut off the tablet as Leo stood, stretching until his back cracked. Adam smiled up at him. “Might I have a kiss?”

Leo’s heart stuttered. He leaned down, pressing his mouth to Adam’s. It was soft, chaste. When he pulled back, Adam was still smiling.

“Sleep well, beauty. I’ll be up soon.”

Lander escorted him through the halls. The mansion was quieter now, most of the staff gone for the night.

The few who remained watched them pass with varying expressions—some curious, some openly disapproving.

Leo caught the flicker of disdain in a maid’s narrowed gaze and felt a spark of defiance.

Let them stare. He’d earned his place here, whether they approved or not.

As they approached Adam’s suite, he couldn’t help asking, “Why is it called the Mistress Suite?”

“Two reasons.” Lander’s voice had gone neutral again.

“When the mansion was built, separate sleeping arrangements were fashionable. His and hers rooms. This was the lady’s suite.

” He paused. “And the second reason is... for the other sort of mistress. The connecting door allowed for discreet visits.”

“Oh.” Leo eyed the ornate door, heat blooming under his skin as he imagined Lander just beyond it. “I guess this is me?”

Lander nodded. “I’ll be in the other room.” He indicated a carved door further down the hall. “If you need anything, call for me.”

The offer made something in Leo’s chest loosen. “I will. Thank you.” He watched Lander retreat, noting the tension in his shoulders as he disappeared inside. Soon they’d be sleeping mere feet apart, separated only by that door.

He stepped into the suite and froze. The space was enormous—twice the size of his old bedroom in Boston.

Dark wood floors. A massive rug. A bed so large it looked like it could swallow him whole.

For all its grandeur, the room felt lived in.

Comfortable in a way the von Rothenburg mansion never had.

Growing up, every surface had been an artifact, a testament to family history he’d never been allowed to touch. Here, the luxury felt... welcoming.

It was moving fast, sharing Adam’s rooms after just over two weeks. But as he breathed in the familiar scent—oak, clean linen, and something purely Adam—something in him eased. The ache he’d carried for days vanished, replaced by a sense of rightness.

This felt like coming home. And it should have terrified him. Instead, it felt inevitable.

Three doors lined the far wall. The first revealed a walk-in closet bigger than his old bedroom, filled with a surreal mix of his hunter clothes and new designer pieces.

A small safe sat open, his puzzle box tucked inside with a neatly folded instruction sheet for changing the combination.

Trust, he realized. They were trusting him to have a place for secrets.

The second door opened to Adam’s closet—more crowded, more chaotic. Leo smiled faintly as he closed both doors.

At the third, the one closest to the windows, he hesitated. A plain lock, simple and deliberate. He rested his hand on it, feeling the weight of the choice. Then he turned it, hearing the click echo in the quiet. The door to Lander’s room was unlocked.

He changed into the soft silk pajama pants laid out for him. The bathroom looked like a spa—marble counters, heated floors, rainfall shower. He moved through it on autopilot, too tired to be overwhelmed by luxury.

When he finally crawled under the sheets—sheets that probably cost more than his car—he hesitated. Wrong side? Right side? He didn’t know. He settled in the middle, deciding Adam would move him if it mattered.

He lay there, staring up at the dark ceiling, feeling the soft weight of exhaustion settle over him. Adam’s scent clung to everything, grounding him. The knowledge that Lander was only a door away, that Adam would be up soon, eased the last knot of tension in his chest.

This morning, he’d been avoiding Adam. Nursing his pride, pretending he wasn’t desperate to be seen. Tonight, he was sleeping in Adam’s bed. He’d chosen to help protect the Court. He’d chosen to stay.

Tomorrow would bring its own complications. But tonight, at least, he felt something dangerously close to peace.