Forever Bound Series 1-4(101)

And he’d kept the secret, kept it for so many years, because Latham’s power had just continued to grow. Jamie hadn’t wanted to risk his best friend’s life. He’d protected him the only way he knew how…by staying silent.

It wasn’t a time for silence any longer. It was a time for vengeance.

Jamie exhaled slowly. “If Latham said midnight, then we’re getting there as soon as night falls. We’re not going to give him a chance to set a trap.” They were only going to let Latham die.

“Of course, there’s going to be a trap,” Iona said, but her voice wasn’t quite steady. “With Latham, there’s always a trap. Werewolves in the shadows, vamps ready to betray their own kind, witches with their spells…”

“He doesn’t have a witch this time,” Jamie pointed out with a fast glance her way. “So there’s no power for him there.”

“Isn’t there?” Iona asked as she swept past him. “Latham doesn’t make mistakes when it comes to battle. He killed Brian, yes, but I’m betting that was only because he’d already found another witch who was more powerful. A witch he’ll try to use against us in our midnight battle.”

The kick in his gut told Jamie that she was right.

“So we need to be ready to fight that witch with our own magic.” From the corner of his eye, Jamie saw the flames begin to dance over Iona’s hands. “And when it comes to magic, this time, I will be holding my own.” The flames flared higher. Jamie’s eyes met Iona’s. The gold in her gaze matched the flames.

Beautiful.

Death had never been so gorgeous. Latham was a fool. Against them, he’d have no chance.

Time for his brother to die.





Chapter Seven


“I want you to bite me.”

Iona blinked at the low, growling words. They were inside the heavy walls that had once surrounded her old home, and the scent of ash teased her nose, a reminder of the fire and death she’d dealt earlier.

Her head turned so that she faced Jamie. Sean was about fifty yards away, perched carefully at the top of the west side wall. A group of trees grew near the wall, partially concealing Sean as he watched…and held a rifle equipped with silver bullets.

“My blood can increase your power,” Jamie told her as his gaze searched hers. “You know it can. A werewolf’s blood can amp you up for the battle.”

So it could. The blood of paranormals always seemed to pulse with power. And she would love to have more power before she faced off against Latham but… “If I take more from you, then you’ll just grow weak before the fight.”

A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Not if you give me your blood, too.”

An exchange. To make them both stronger. Yes, they needed it, but for some reason, when he asked for her blood, it made her feel…used.

So she narrowed her eyes and told him, “The first time I f*cked you, I did it because I wanted to make Latham angry. I wanted him to catch your scent on me. I wanted him to know that I was giving my body to someone else.” Anyone else. Not just—

Jamie shook his head. “When you lie, a faint line appears right…” He tapped his finger between her brows. “Here.”

Iona was so shocked she almost fell onto her ass. As it was, she barely managed to keep crouching next to him without lunging for the jerk. “I’m not lying!” She was the Blood Queen. Like she’d have some easy tell that gave away her lies.

He stroked the spot between her brows. “There it is again.”

Sonofabitch. She had a tell. All these centuries, and no one had mentioned it to her before? Wonderful.

“Don’t worry,” he said as if reading her mind, “I doubt anyone else noticed. I just know because I can never seem to take my eyes off you.” His hand fell away. “Just so we’re clear, I made love with you the first time because I wanted you more than I wanted breath. That’s the same reason I did the second time, too. And the reason I’ll do it every chance I get.”

Arrogant wolf. “I did want to piss off Latham.” But…more…Time for her truth. “I also just wanted you.”

His eyes seemed to darken.

“Is that what you needed to hear?” She demanded, angry. “That you could make the Blood Queen want—”

“I don’t really give a shit about the Blood Queen,” he said, the Irish thickening in his voice. “I care about Iona. She’s the one I want. Not some evil queen who is supposed to give little kids nightmares.”

Nightmares? Really?

“I want to give you my blood now because I want to make sure you’re as strong as you can be. And, no,” he muttered, “you don’t have to give me yours. Just take mine. Just…be strong. I don’t want Latham to ever hurt you again.”

The wolf was sure acting like he actually cared about what happened to her.

And she did need his blood.

Iona lifted his hand to her mouth. Her fangs sank into his wrist, and the image of them—in that horrible room, her on the bed, him leaning over her—flashed in her mind. Then his blood slipped over her tongue—warm, spicy, that delicious taste that was only Jamie—and her eyes locked with his.

She didn’t see calculation in his gaze. No secrets. Just desire.