Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
He could still feel the moment his claws severed through skin, muscle, and bone, the impact juddering up his shoulder and into his teeth.
It was Conall’s first vampire kill, and three more had followed. Guilt didn’t come to him, however, as he laid staring at the hotel ceiling, listening to the almost imperceptible sound of Thea breathing.
Conall had vampire acquaintances, a few he even considered friends. They were based in Glasgow, though like most vamps, his friends liked to travel. Although Conall knew many vampires had no qualms about killing humans, they tended not to. A quick bite here and there was usually the extent of the damage they caused. But the older they got, the less empathetic many of them seemed to grow toward humans. And there were always the psychopaths among any species.
Mostly, vampires and werewolves kept their distance from one another. It was instinct. Some believed the reason for the natural discord was rooted in their origins, but then Conall didn’t believe in the origin stories.
It was his opinion that vampires were generally arrogant, superior fuckers who thought they were better than wolves and that was the cause of their natural discord. Moreover, wolves tended to have more respect for human life because they too were mortal.
Still, Conall had never been moved to kill one before this evening. But killing those vampires had been easy as a possessive, protective instinct roared through his body at witnessing Thea’s capture.
It wasn’t because of Thea.
Seeing her close to death had made him realize how close he was to losing his last hope to save Callie. He turned his head on the pillow to stare at Thea in the dark.
Aye, that’s all it had meant.
Being able to last longer on little sleep than a human was a major advantage when you didn’t trust your companion not to kill you. Conall forced himself to sit up in bed, worried that the soft sounds of Thea breathing would lull him to sleep. Grabbing the phone Ashforth had given him off the nightstand, he downloaded a word search app Callie had gotten him addicted to and kept his brain awake with the distraction.
Minutes from dawn, Conall noticed the change in Thea’s breathing. It stuttered and hitched, and he looked over at her, frowning. After a few seconds of nothing, just when he was about to turn back to the phone, she began to whimper.
He immediately suspected she was trying to trick him and silently swung his legs off the bed. As he did so, Thea made a garbled, choking sound, like she was in pain and holding it in. Hovering over her, Conall realized it wasn’t a trick when he saw her hair sticking to her temple with sweat.
She’d screwed up her face in anguish in her sleep, her pretty lips pinched together in pain.
“Jesus,” Conall muttered as she began to writhe. He reached out a hand to her shoulder to shake her awake. “Thea, wake up. It’s just a dr—”
The room transformed into a blur of its muted colors and his breath was abruptly knocked out of him. The feel of Thea’s warm body straddling his to the floor disoriented Conall until she wrapped her hands around his throat and began to choke him.
There was a glazed look of fury in her dark eyes as she squeezed.
Realizing she was locked in her nightmare, Conall rolled them. It wasn’t easy. In fact, it took most of his strength. Her grip on his throat loosened as he flipped them and he grabbed her hands, pinning them to the floor at either side of her head. “Wake up, Thea!”
She struggled against him, her thighs tight around his hips, and shock moved through him as she snapped at his wrist like a wolf. Heat pooled deep in his groin where it pressed flush to hers.
Fuck!
Conall pushed off her, springing back on his haunches and just like that, she grew still except for the heaving of her chest. The neckline of her shirt had pulled down during their tussle and sweat glistened across the swell of her breasts.
He forced his eyes to her face, shaken by his response.
Angered by it.
“Jesus, fuck, woman, remind me never to wake you up from a nightmare again,” he snapped.
She blinked rapidly. Confusion filled her low, melodic voice. “Conall?”
“Aye, it’s me.” He stood up and reluctantly held a hand out to her.
Thea eyed it suspiciously and sat up. “What happened?”
“You were having a nightmare. I made the mistake of trying to rouse you and you choked me.”
Ignoring his outstretched hand, she rose to her feet, straightening her clothes without meeting his eyes. She brushed the long strands of her soft hair from her face and moved toward the bed, slumping down on it with a weary exhalation.
Curiosity got the better of him. “What was the nightmare about?”