Blood Bound [Book 1 of the Bound series]

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Thirteenth Blood

The sound of skin being torn reached his ears, before the scorching pain shot from his neck. Roman screamed, but a cold, marble hand covered his mouth shut, muffling his noise as he thrashed about beneath her.

But the pain only lasted a few seconds before it turned into something else.

The vampiress moaned when his blood reached her tongue, rolling on the flesh as though it was ichor to her. It was sweet and delicious, and she was sure that nothing she had ever tasted could compare to this.

This was the juice of heaven.

But she made sure to inject her venom inside him as well, to neutralize the pain from her fangs into pleasure. Both submerged in the pleasure of each other, they clutched each other’s bodies tight, yearning for more of the euphoria they gave out.

His blood was a drug. It pulled her away from the confines of her reality, where she lived in historic sorrow, finding her solace in cruelty. Instead, his blood took her into the utopic world where none of her sorrows existed. Where no Edouard or her little doe broke her heart.

This was what she wanted.

To forget.

She sank her fangs deeper into his neck, drawing out more blood, as her cold tongue lapped against his skin, trying to suck. He moaned lustily when the venom ventured further inside him, and his body moved closer against hers.

But even in her ecstatic feed, she noticed that his hold around her was weakening. The more blood that streamed into her throat, the more fragile his body turned. And with her venom inside, the last thing she wanted was for him to die.

But she couldn’t stop.

She had never been in a situation where she needed to pull out her fangs before her victim was drained. And here she was, debating whether to continue feeding or to stop, with her canines buried inside his flesh.

His weak hand stroked her hair. “Evette,” he murmured quietly, pulling her back into reality.

Stop.

He’ll die.

You don’t want him to turn.

Stop.

She stopped.

Pull out.

She reluctantly pulled her fangs out, and licked his puncture wounds, closing them. She lightly kissed both the red spots, before taking her face off the crook of his neck and looking at his dilated oceans.

He bit his lip.

“Do you have any idea, how dangerous it was, for you to do that?” she panted, referring to him using the piece of glass.

He didn’t reply.

“I could’ve killed you.”

“You were weak.” He rasped.

“And now? What about you?”

He smiled, “I’ll be fine,” he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She was calm now. There was no thirst to cloud her mind.

And this human really didn’t deserve to be her victim of cruelty.

“It’s dangerous for you to be with me, Roman. I’m not what you think I am.” She said.

“Tell me, what are you?”

A terrible, sinister vampire, who masked her despair and melancholy under her cruelty.

“You don’t need to know.” She declared and rose, but Roman snaked a weak arm around her waist and tried to sit up.

“Please…” he begged.

“Haven’t you had enough?” she asked. “I killed your students in front of you, I touched you, I taunted you, I almost choked the life out of you, and I broke your arm and left you there in pain. And now I even fed on you.” She brushed her fingers against his cheek. “I’m bad for you, Roman.”

I am so bad.

“You are something inside your ruthlessness, Evette.” He whispered. “I know that.”

She inhaled, “What if you’re wrong?”

“It’s a ‘what if’.”

In her two hundred and seventy-six years of life, no one, not one soul except her little doe could see through her like this. The kind and sweet Evette that she had thought died when she was turned, still existed, but only surfaced when people like Roman and her doe looked.

But her doe ended up leaving her.

“Talk to me,” he said.

She hissed at him, but to her surprise, he didn’t flinch.

“You’ve scared me many times now, Evette. The hiss doesn’t work anymore.”

She smiled, “So maybe I should just break another bone of yours,”

“You punished me for using the juniper against you by breaking my bone, earlier. You wanted me to experience the pain. And if you want to do it again, go ahead,” he said, offering his arm. “Break it.”

“Roman,” she whispered in disbelief.

“If you really wanted me to hurt, you wouldn’t have healed me. You wouldn’t have fed me your blood when you were already weak,” he added. “That’s when I realized that you weren’t as bad as I thought.”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured.

“But you did,” he said, and pulled her even closer on his lap, “I want to know you, Evette. On one hand, you kill innocent people without remorse, and on the other hand, you heal me because I was in pain.”

Cherie, just because I showed a little kindness to you doesn’t mean that I am good.” She said. “I am bad for you. I’m bad for everyone.”

What kind of cliche relationship was this?

She leaned in and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Forget everything that happened between us, Roman. Forget that I am a vampire, forget the last two days, and forget that I killed Jacob and Lucy. See me as Miss Bellerose.” She said but felt his arms tighten around her waist.

“Are you going to compel me?” he asked but she shook her head.

“We don’t compel. Only a few vampires have that ability.”

Roman sighed, and then a weird question came to his head.

“Did my blood taste good?” he asked. “And why did I feel good when you fed?”

“I injected my venom inside you, so the pain would turn into pleasure. And yes, your blood was heavenly.” She said and cupped his cheek. “And for the next twenty-four hours, be very careful. You don’t want to die with the venom inside you.”

“What happens then?”

“You’ll turn into a feral vampire. And that sucks.”

Roman cringed.

Evette didn’t mention that he could turn into a baseline vampire if he was buried after being staked, with the venom in his system, and would only turn feral if he wasn’t staked. And baseline vampires have to feed on humans to transition completely as well.

But she couldn’t trust that Roman wouldn’t try to kill himself if he knew that.

Many humans have died with vampire venom inside them and buried unstaked, and when they crawl out of their grave, their scorching thirst led them to feed on the first blooded creature they would find. Mostly it was some animal.

“What are we, Evette?” he asked.

“You’re the teacher, and I am the student.” She replied.

“A student doesn’t jack off her teacher,” he began, “A student doesn’t choke her teacher and she doesn’t break his arm. And she doesn’t drink his blood either.”

“Let me rephrase,” she said. “You’re the human and I am the vampire.”

“And what does that mean?”

“That means, you have to stay away from me. I am only your student, and treat me like that, Mr. Berkshire.” She said.

“You won’t taunt me in class?”

“No,” she replied.

He sighed.

If she doesn’t remind him about what she is in class, then he might as well forget about it. What was the point anyway?

“Will you stay with me?”

Evette smirked, “I thought I was your student. You want to sleep with me? That’s illegal, Roman!”

His eyes widened. “Jesus, Evette, I just want to spend time with you! Not sleep with you, goddammit!”

She smiled, “Okay.”

With her newfound strength, Evette got off Roman and stood up, stretching, and then offered her hand to a weak Roman. Contrary to what she expected, he was standing on both legs, although unsteady, and she helped him to walk over to his bedroom.

Slizzle came running to her daddy, quickly climbing over his bed and settling herself on the middle, as Roman sat on the edge. She glared daggers at Evette.

“Would you like it if I killed your pussy, Roman?”

He extended his arms to Slizzle and held her protectively. “Her name is Slizzle and no, I would not like it!” he said, earning a sarcastic chuckle from Evette.

His fingers ran over Slizzle fur, who purred in relief as she closed her eyes again. “Sit,” he told Evette, patting the other side of the bed.

She placed herself down, feeling oddly weird for not being focused on how to kill the human right next to her. Instead, her instinct was to protect the man who happily petted his cat with a little smile on his face. Despite everything she had done to him, he wasn’t seeing her as the bad one.

Why?

Saying that he endangered himself by cutting himself while she was thirsty would be an understatement. He jeopardized his life and potentially something more that wasn’t under her control.

Something that was way beyond her control.

Why was she feeling this way? What is it so special about Roman it drew her to his blood while wanting to protect and care for him at the same time? Why was this man reminding her of certain moments from her entire life?

“Evette!” a weak arm shook her shoulder, pulling her back from her brief trance.

“Yeah…”

“You’ve been staring at me.” He said, while his hands still worked on smoothing out Slizzle’s fur.

She smiled, and then looked down at a now sleeping Slizzle, and halted his hand. She slipped her hands under the cat’s body and picked her up, Roman’s breath hitching. But to his surprise, she gently placed the sleeping cat down and then turned to him.

“For a second I thought, you would actually kill her!” Roman breathed, chuckling, and then turned to her. “What happened?”

She took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m sorry.”


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