Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Fear.
Adrenaline.
But I can’t panic.
Instead, I let the fear fuel me, let it become the coil in my body where it transforms into anger.
Not anger at Eris.
At myself, for underestimating her, for wielding all my power to quickly.
Eris’s snarling face still hovers above me, her breath hot against my cheek.
And I can’t help myself.
I inhale.
Blood.
The blood of the wolf.
And the blood of the demon.
My fangs snap down with a painful jolt.
Fuck.
I should have fed from Rogan before I left. What was I thinking?
I must fight this wolf-demon, but right now all I can think about is her rapid heartbeat, the whoosh of her animal blood surging through her veins.
Instinct takes over. My hands shake as I grip Eris’s sides, not to push her away but to pull her closer. She snarls and snaps at my face, but then she freezes, tilts her head.
The scent of her blood is intoxicating. It clouds my thoughts, drowns out all reason. And it scares me.
Because I want it.
My fangs ache with a primal need to sink into her flesh and drink. I fight against the urge, the raw hunger growing stronger with every passing second. I am not just a vampire. I am half-human, pregnant, a mother.
I’m everything.
But now, in this moment, I am nothing more than a predator craving its sustenance.
I bite down on my own tongue, tasting the tang of my own blood. The taste distracts me, and I stare into Eris’s eyes. Her growls subside to a low rumble.
She doesn't move away. Instead, she watches me, her gaze sharp and attentive.
She knows what I am, knows what I thirst for.
She’s daring me.
Daring me to take what I crave.
I could take it so easily. Sink my fangs through her coat and into her flesh, drawing what I desire from her body. Let her give me her own strength to defeat her.
And then it clicks.
This is the test.
My stepfather’s test.
I can hear him inside my head, jeering at me, mocking my blood lust, my thirst for wolf blood.
I won’t give him the satisfaction.
With raw, unfiltered power—no magic this time—I summon every ounce of strength in my body. A guttural roar tears from my throat as I throw Eris off me and hurl her to the ground with soul-shaking force. My muscles burn, my breath heaves, but I don’t hesitate.
I stand tall.
Unyielding.
I don’t need Eris’s blood.
I don’t even need Alara’s training.
I need only what I possess inside.
This will be a purely physical fight.
And I will fucking win.
59
Eris, sprawled on the ground, shakes herself and lets out a feral snarl. Rage burns in her eyes and she lunges again.
But this time, I’m ready.
As she leaps toward me, I spin on my heel and sidestep, swinging my arm in a wide arc. I connect with her flank and send her crashing into a nearby tree.
For a moment, she lies there, dazed.
I don’t waste the opportunity. With a burst of speed that surprises even me, I’m on her before she can recover. I lock my hands around her throat and squeeze.
I squeeze, but only enough to remind her of the strength and power I wield.
She claws at my arms, struggling beneath me.
But she still has the upper hand. We both know it. In her wolf form, she’s stronger than I am.
“Show yourself,” I say through clenched teeth. “Show me your demon form, bitch.”
Eris’s golden eyes narrow at my demand. A low growl bubbles from her throat, as if she’s echoing my demand back at me.
I tighten my grip, press my thumbs against her windpipe, and bite back the venomous threat of my hunger. The blood beats beneath her skin—a rhythmic song that taunts me, tempts me. My fangs throb with the need to pierce, to consume.
But I hold back. I need to prove a point.
The soft fur of her wolf form recedes, giving way to smooth, pale skin and deep-set eyes that flare with defiance. Her claws retract, and her hands contort until they resemble human fingers that scratch desperately at my arms.
Her transformation sends a jolt through me—half fear, half awe. Eris in her demon form is beautiful—auburn hair, fine features, and eyes that blaze like molten gold.
But beneath the otherworldly visage, I see a raw desperation that tugs at something within me.
She may be Rogan’s fated mate, but my true fight is not with her.
“I won’t kill you,” I say, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “But I will win.”
Eris pulls her lips back in a snarl, revealing vivid white teeth. “You’re welcome to try,” she hisses.
I release my ironclad grip from her throat and swiftly leap back, giving her room to rise.
As she slowly gets on her feet, her eyes glow with white rage.
She won’t hold back. She’ll use every ounce of her power to defeat me—and she won’t stop at killing.
Losing isn’t an option.