Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
He felt as if he was floating on his back down the Saco River with the full moon hanging low in the sky. He didn’t remember this sensation last night, but he didn’t care, it felt amazing. “Adres. Are you awake?”
Macauley shuddered as another orgasm slammed into him. His throat was bared, his dick spewing like a geyser, and with his slurred speech Macauley could do little more than take what was happening. “Adres… enough.”
Adres clutched the back of Macauley’s neck tighter as if to prevent him from pulling away. He felt weak… too weak. Macauley tried to raise his arms to halt Adres’s hips, but his arms felt as if he was holding eighty-pound dumbbells. His dick was pulsing, and his mate’s elixir was flooding his system and muddling his brain.
Adres was putting him in a trance.
Fuuuuck. Macauley whimpered, making his wolf rear up and growl in warning.
Adres sucked harder.
Oh shit. Adres! He tried to push his energy towards Adres’s mind, but he was too weakened. His wolf clawed and snarled inside for him to shift. Fuck! Adres! Stop drinking! Macauley pushed with all of his might… which was none. His vision got hazy in the corners before his eyelids slid shut.
No! No! Adres! His mate wasn’t receiving anything, and it was clear he had still been in his slumber when Macauley had disrupted him. This was all his fault. Shit. Adres took another thirsty pull before his wolf exploded to the surface with a deafening growl—only shifting Macauley’s hands—and swiped his claws across Adres’s chest hard enough to send him flying off them and into the antique armoire on the other side of the room.
Noooooo!
Adres’s crashed to the floor, and he lay there a moment, shaking his head and gazing around as if unsure of where he was and what’d just happened. Macauley attempted to speak, but no words would come out. He tried to reach Adres’s mind again, but his wolf was snarling at him to shift. Now! Macauley had never felt this way before; he was drained and more fatigued than his human body could handle. He couldn’t heal himself fast enough.
Adres’s eyes seemed to come into focus, and when his gaze landed on Macauley and his debilitated condition, his mate appeared horrified. Macauley attempted to raise up onto his elbow, but he only managed to roll to his side. Adres clutched his temples as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing. Macauley didn’t know what he looked like, but the way Adres fell to his knees told him he must’ve been in pretty bad shape.
“What have I done?” Adres flashed to the bed and put his hand over Macauley’s chest, his cold palm trembling as he pressed harder.
Macauley could scarcely breathe, so he knew his mate was struggling to feel his slowing pulse. He needed to shift, but he didn’t want Adres to run. Macauley parted his lips, his tongue feeling too thick for his mouth. “Adres. It wasn’t your fault.”
That was what he’d tried to say, but it sounded like garbled nonsense as drool ran down his chin, which he was incapable of wiping away.
Shift! His wolf howled as their pulse got weaker.
“Mac!”
“Macauley!”
“Where are you, brother?”
“Answer us!”
Adres snapped around at the sound of Macauley’s family and betas running across the pack lands towards him. He and his siblings were all linked to each other, which meant they could also feel him dying.
Adres dropped his tortured gaze to the faint red claw marks across his chest, and Macauley felt his world shatter when he saw a single tear roll down Adres’s right cheek, not knowing a vampire was capable of crying.
“Mac, where are you?” He heard Justice holler.
Macauley’s heartbeat was so faint that even his Alpha Zenith—who was mentally connected to all shifters—could not find him. He had no choice.
Adres, don’t leave me, he pleaded through heavy lids.
Adres! Macauley roared as he watched his mate flash around his room, dressing in his armor and cloak within the blink of an eye.
Shift!
Macauley continued to ignore his wolf as it began to force the transformation, having no strength to stop it. His beast would go into survival mode with or without his consent. Macauley blinked sluggishly, and when he opened his eyes again, he was seeing with the Arctic vision of his animal. And even in his greatest form, he still was unable to stand.
Adres pulled the double-edged, medieval sword concealed within his armor from behind his back. He snapped it in his hand, and the blade extended at least twenty-five inches and lit up the room in an electric-blue light. Macauley’s howl sounded pitiful when he realized Adres had used his magic to wipe his bedroom clean of his scent and then threw up his shields.
His mate couldn’t run away now—the sun was still out. If he left now…