My Midnight Moonlight Valentine (Vampire’s Romance #1) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires, Witches Tags Authors: Series: Vampire's Romance Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 122946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
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“Intended? What the hell does that mean? I hate when you are not clear with your words,” Mikhail retorted, carefully watching my every move. His eyebrows were so hairy they touched when they furrowed. “Ms. Monroe, are you the Prince of Night’s woman or not? Wait, don’t tell me you rejected him? Do you know who he is?”

There were soft intakes of air, the sounds of people either amused or in shock. And whatever mask Theseus wore had to be made of stone and dipped in iron because he looked completely unfazed by the obvious and loud goading Mikhail was engaging in for no reason.

“Well, Ms. Monroe? Will you keep us intended for an answer? We are curious. The Prince of Night has had many women. They all begged him to mate, but he treated them like cadavers when he was done with them. Now he wants a mate, and she is rejecting him,” he pushed.

Maybe it was because of all the years I had endured Simone’s backhanded comments that I wasn’t shocked to see he was being so blatantly disrespectful.

“I apologize.” No, I didn’t. “As I’m sure you know, I haven’t been a vampire for long, so I don’t know our customs and practices very well yet; hardly at all, actually. Everything is still a bit overwhelming. And I have been told I still act like a mortal. Theseus has asked me to mate him, but what does being mated mean? If that is like the mortal term for marriage or soulmates, I believe it should be equal. Right now, it is not. I’m using him more like a book than a mate. When I can be fair to him and meet him with the same sincerity and patience he gives me, I will give him my answer because he deserves that.”

“So, wait, you want to know everything he does before you mate?” he asked, the earlier amusement in his voice gone as I hadn’t embarrassed myself. “Kid, no, newborn…The Prince of Night has lived over a millennium. It may take centuries for you to know all he knows.”

“Thank God I’m immortal then.” I grinned, causing a few others to snicker.

His eyes shifted to Theseus. “She plans to keep you waiting, Prince, like a pet. One of the great sons of Sigbjørn, held by the collar by a woman? How the mighty have fallen.”

You son of a bitch. That was not what I said!

At that, Theseus grinned, and from the reactions of everyone else that must not have been a normal sight for them. “Mikhail, would you like to know something my father once told me?”

The asshole just lifted his head, waiting.

“Show me a man—mortal or immortal—that is not bound by the desires of their mate, and I shall show you that he is no man but an injured beast, howling at his own deep wounds. For a man is not afraid to belong to someone. He seeks it, for he knows they will belong to him also.” His words gave me chills. “My intended has told you she means to stay by my side for centuries. If I am her pet, she is mine also, and everyone here should know I am a lot of things but an easy companion.”

At that, people did laugh.

“Well said. Once more, your father proves to be wisest among us all.” A raucous voice came from the top of the staircase, and I could smell him from here like he had taken a bath in sage. “Good evening, all.”

“Good evening, Mr. President,” everyone said at once, and if that wasn’t the eeriest thing, I didn’t know what was. We were all were forced to look.

He was an aboriginal man who appeared to be at least fifty, with long hair, half white at the top but still black at the bottom. He stood at my height in these heels, and he was dressed in full British-royal attire, everything down to the military-style coat to the fake medals on the breast to the sash across his body. On his arm was a brunette woman with white skin. She was dressed like an English queen with a sash of her own, long white gloves going up her arms, and a crown on her head. Her eyes were green and her lips vibrant pink but without any lipstick.

They walked down the stairs like the royal couple they pretended to be, and when they reached us, Theseus stepped forward with me on his arm.

“President Waban Swan. First Lady Mimiteh Swan.” He nodded to them, and I did the same because I was not curtsying in this dress. “Druella and I are thankful for your hospitality.”

President Snow’s aged eyes focused on me. “You are very lucky, young one to have survived so long in the Omeron territory. Is she not, my swan?” His question was directed not to me, but to the woman beside him, and she nodded, waving her free hand in front of her mouth.


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