To Be Claimed Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 129268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
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I thought it would go away, though, this uncanny sensation, when Devin and the pack came back an hour ago, but it didn’t. I repeat, more sternly, “Something’s changed.”

“The new moon is coming,” Devin responds as if it’s an obvious answer.

“What does that mean?”

“It just brings a different energy, different powers.”

“Powers?” I question and he only smiles down at me, his dark and hungry gaze flashing with desire. Sucking in a breath, I try to steady my racing heart as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

“You have so much to learn, Grace.”

That I can’t deny.

I can’t help but feel like this is only the end of a chapter for a story that hasn’t finished yet. It’s an eerie feeling that washes over me, and one that’s only dimmed when Devin kisses me.

“I love you,” Devin whispers at the shell of my ear and the warmth of his breath against the crook of my neck does more to me than any other feeling could. When he holds me like this and kisses me, it’s as if the entire world can wait. It could stop, it could vanish, and I wouldn’t even notice.

“I love you too,” I whisper, my eyes closed as he takes my lips with his and deepens it.

Vince

Three days later

I know something’s off as I walk to our room. A metallic tinge of blood coats the air. It smells god awful and reminds me of death. It’s been quiet for days since we’ve been back and there’s no reason to fear an attack, but that fucking smell makes my skin crawl and my body shake with anxiousness. The scent gets stronger and I find myself picking up my pace as a sick churning stirs in my stomach. My mate.

I grip the doorknob so tightly it nearly breaks off in my grasp as the door bashes violently against the wall. Veronica’s form is a blur as she spins to face me. Seeing she’s safe calms the beast clawing inside me. My frantic breathing eases as I walk to her. The sense of peace is fleeting as I study her face.

With wide eyes so black they match the silk negligee she wears, my mate looks as though she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I grin and look past her to the large walnut desk. My smile falls instantly. My mate swallows and opens her mouth, but I silence her with a glare.

At least a dozen blood bags line its polished surface. They’ve been opened and drained, and it looks like she’s been scraping the insides of the bag with a razor. There’s a small pile of white powder in the center of the desk. The poison. She’s collecting the poison designed to corrupt her immortality.

Unable to breathe, I stare into her eyes and search for an answer.

This isn’t real. It can’t be true. Disbelief comes in waves. What the hell is she doing with this shit? My blood runs cold as all manner of possibilities race through me.

“Did you drink the blood?” That’s the first concern on my mind. I don’t think my mate would hurt herself by drinking this shit. She can’t. She wouldn’t. She drinks from me daily. I can give her everything she needs.

“No.” Her voice is small and her eyes are brimming with bloodied tears.

I nod my head and back away from the desk, walking to the bed with my back to her. If she’s collecting this drug, it can’t be for anything good. I think of any enemy she could have that’s vampire, but I come up with nothing. I haven’t the faintest clue why she would be harvesting this weapon. And it’s one fucked-up weapon. They found four vampires at the warehouse; their fangs were barely visible and their immortality gone. Two were already dead and the other two were no stronger than humans. They needed a complete blood transfusion and to be bitten and turned again. They’re still weak, though, nowhere near the vampires they used to be. There’s no reason Veronica should have this shit here.

What the fuck is she doing? Did her queen give her orders without me knowing?

“Explain.” The single word falls hard between us. I hope she can sense my disappointment and the agony at being kept in the dark. She’s up to something, something of grave proportions. If she’s hurting and planning revenge, she should’ve told me. Why wouldn’t my own mate confide in me?

“I don’t want this anymore.” Her chest rises and falls with the admission, pain laced in her tone.

What the fuck? My heart sinks at her words. A spiked lump forms in my throat. She doesn’t want me anymore? If she thinks she can run from me, she’s dead fucking wrong. I’ll always find her and bring her back to me.


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