Bound by Blood and Fang

Chapter 18

Bane

I’m going to kill him.

Bond be damned.

Not only did that leech have the audacity to f*cking kiss her, but he just had to go and f*cking broadcast the entire moment to ME.

Vorian is raging again, all thanks to Dimitri Valecourt.

Not the distant, simmering irritation I’ve been fighting to keep contained for days since that night when it comes to the bloodsucker.

No.

This is teeth-bared.

Hackles-raised.

Blood-in-the-mouth blinding fury.

So much for returning calmer.

I don’t bother with dressing when I reach the edge of the treeline near the pack house. I don’t have the time, let alone the f*cking patience, to fiddle with putting on clothing. I stalk forward toward the pack house with every intention of ripping a vampire’s head clean off his shoulders the moment that I see him.

Steam curls off my skin and into the chilled air; each breath from my lungs is a plume of frost and fury. While my hands flexed at my sides, Vorian’s claws threatened the surface once again.

“We should have returned sooner,” Vorian snarls, pacing inside me like a caged storm that is about to break.

“Could have been here sooner,” I snap back, “but someone was still throwing a hissy fit.”

He lunges at the bars of my mind, his teeth flashing and drool dripping from his canines.

It's a warning.

One that I don't give two sh*ts about right now about his outburst.

“Save that for the leech,” I tell him, and as I had hoped, the mention of the vampire redirects his fury away from me, for the time being, at least.

The ground trembles under my steps as I cross the courtyard, the bond between us still pulsing with the echo of their kiss — of his mouth on hers — and Vorian roars in anger once again, the sound is so jarring that it rattles my bones.

I don’t slow my pace as I stalk up the front steps to the house. A few patches of ice and snow are still covering the ground around the front of the house.

I’m going to tear Dimitri Valecourt apart—piece by f*cking piece.

Vorian surges to the surface, his claws raking across the inside of my ribs in the process. It is taking a lot of effort to keep him contained right now.

“MINE,” he snarls as I shove the front doors of the pack house open.

“Yeah,” I mutter to myself, my jaw aching from how hard I’m grinding my teeth. “I know.”

The inside of the pack house feels oddly quiet as I stalk my way through the front rooms following their scents— Alora’s storm‑charged sweetness tangled with the vampire’s metallic chill. My vision narrows when I realize the trail leads straight to the dining room.

He hadn't given much context when he invaded my mind, and as I shove those doors open, the temperature in the room plummets when my gaze locks on my bonded. She is sitting at my table, cheeks flushed and lips slightly swollen, with a look of pure shock written across her face.

The dark red dress she’s wearing clings to her curves in ways that make my body react despite the rage that is still boiling in my veins. F*ck, and the slit up the side that showcases her long, milky soft skin doesn’t help my sudden desire to claim her.

And next to her sits Dimitri f*cking Valecourt, looking entirely too f*cking pleased with himself right now.

“So nice of you to finally join us, Alpha,” he drawls— as once again, the bastard invades my mind like he owns space there.

Vorian snarls, the sound ripping from my chest as I take in the rest of the scene before me. The table is set with candles that are lit and placed in the center. Is he f*cking courting her, in my house? What the hell?

The sight of the two of them sitting so close and Alora's flushed face and swollen lips causes something ice-cold to wash through me.

This wasn't just opportunistic. No, this was f*cking planned. It was calculated right down to the very last Fates-damn detail.

And my entire staff went along with it. My Beta allowed it.

The realization lands slowly.

Heavy.

And dangerous even.

“You knew about this?” I snapped at him through a link.

“I did,” comes his reply quickly.

I grind my teeth at the fact that, apparently, I have no one that I can count on around here.

“We will discuss your loyalty tomorrow,” I bit out, my fury sharpening every word.

Then I turn my attention back to the two in front of me.

Alora’s eyes are wide when she sees me standing in the doorway, her cheeks flushing nearly the same deep red as her dress. The way their scents mingle throughout the room has Vorian losing his d*mn mind— storm and metal, tangled together in a way that makes my wolf claw at the inside of my skull.

“It’s nice to see that you’re making yourself at home here,” I say, never taking my eyes from my bonded.

It's a pointed jab at the bloodsucker, but I know that my bonded took it as a jab at her as well.

“I… I…” she stammers, carefully looking between the vampire beside her and me. She looks like she doesn’t know whether to run for the High Hills or brace for impact. Her pulse hammers at the base of her throat, fluttering wildly beneath her skin.

A lethal sense of calm settles into my bones.

He wanted this. He wants me to react badly.

He wanted Vorian to snap, to go feral, to prove whatever twisted point he’s trying to make right now about him being the better bonded for her. It’s why he kept pushing my wolf earlier in the courtyard. It's why he kissed her and made sure I knew about it.

Fine.

If he wants a reaction, I'll give him one — but it won’t be the one he’s hoping for.

I step forward, taking as much of the bitterness out of my tone as possible. “It looks as if I am going to have a serious talk with my omegas about taking orders for a bloodsucker.”

I raised a brow when Damitri smirked, like what I said was even remotely comical. His eyes gleam with that infuriating, knowing amusement that all vampires have— the kind that makes Vorian snarl so loudly inside me, I feel my ribs vibrate.

The room seems to tighten with every one of my footfalls. I don’t miss the way Alora’s breath hitches when I close the distance, or the way her eyes flick—just once—down the length of my body before stopping at my waist and snapping back up to my face.

A bright flush crosses her cheeks when she takes in my current bare state. I don't care. Wolves are not shy about their bodies, and standing here bare to her gaze has need rolling down my spine. I am already half hard as it is, and seeing the way she fights to avert her eyes from me only has me hardening even more.

Mine.

Vorian purrs darkly in the back of my skull, the sound a low, rolling clap of thunder when we catch the scent of her arousal in the air. It’s sharp, sweet, and unmistakable — and she fights it. I can see it in the way her brows pinch, like she’s yelling at herself.

Without looking away from her, I reached down and wrapped a hand around her waist. Her breath catches as I haul her smoothly from the chair and to her feet.

Not rough.

But certainly not gentle either.

“Your Majesty—” she starts, her voice breathless when I haul her into my arms.

My grip tightens around her waist just enough to silence any protest she might try to utter— a quiet warning with Vorian pressing forward beneath my skin. Her lips part, but no sound comes out.

I smiled to myself, satisfied.

Dimitri now watches us from his chair like this is the most entertaining show he’s seen in a century. He hasn't even moved a muscle, well, besides the one in his brow when he lifts it.

The bastard.

I hold his gaze for one long, heavy beat — letting every ounce of promise of violence I’m holding back bleed through the bond. Letting him feel exactly how close I am to tearing him apart. I know he can feel it.

“I’ll take it from here,” I say as my grip on Alora shifts.

One arm slides more securely around her back as I turn her toward the door. She stumbles half a step, clearly not expecting the sudden movement, and I steady her without looking down. I lead her back through the doors of the dining room. Taking what's mine with me this time. While behind us, I hear the soft click of glass against the table with infuriating calm.

Alora struggles against my grip at her hip, twisting just enough to put a fraction of space between us. Her breath hitches, and the normal fire in her eyes is replaced by unease as she attempts to break free.

That's not happening. Vorian is a raging f*cking beast, clawing at the inside of my ribs, and she is the only thing that can soothe him now, whether she likes it or not.

“Bane…let me go—” she starts, her voice growing sharp in a slight panic.

My grip tightens, my fingers digging into the side of her hip.

“Not. Another. Word.”

The command isn't just my own; it's my wolf’s. His voice melds with mine as it crawls along her spine and beneath her skin in warning without a single violent motion. Her breathing seizes for half a heartbeat under the command that demands her obedience.

I pivot, leading us down the hall where our rooms are located, but she isn't going to hers this time. Dimitri went too far this time. This entire night has gone too far.

When I stop at my door, she tries to keep walking — tries to slip past me — but I hold her still.

“Bane... what are you doing?”

It's the second time that she has called me by my name, and Vorian howls at the breathy sound of it as it rolls off her lips. I pushed my door open and pulled her inside without answering her, slamming it shut behind us. The echo cracks through the room like a warning shot.

Before she can move, I have her back pinned against the door. Her palms rise on instinct and press against my chest, trying to create distance, but I lean in any way, caging her in with my body. Letting her feel me against her.

“So this is what we’re doing?” I growl, my voice low and rough as her heat seeps into my body. “You let him kiss you… But yet, you still fight me?”

I roll my head to the side as my claws pierce through the door beside her head. Her eyes narrow to pinpoints, the fire in her surging to life once again. Vorian lowers his head a little at the challenge building in her pretty grey eyes.

“I didn't ask for him to kiss me,” a snarl of her own rips from her throat. “I didn't ask for any of this, yet here I am being manhandled by the two of you like I’m some Fates-cursed prize to fight over.”

My chest heaves with restraint that I am slowly failing at maintaining. Removing one hand from the gouged wood, I pinch her chin between my claws.

“And you think I agreed to share my f*cking bonded? We didn't have a choice.” I can feel my teeth elongating as my anger peaks. “None of us did, but this is what was decided for us.”

If looks could kill, I would be dead right now. She slaps my hand away from her face and shoves at my chest with everything that she has. I stumbled backward half a step, and Vorian presses forward, shoving me hard to the back of our mind.

The world tilts.

Red.

Hot.

Possessive.

I’m still there, still watching, though it's through the burning eyes of my wolf. The fraying threads of the leash I'm holding barely hold him back anymore. I can see the moment that she realizes her mistake. Her pulse jumps rapidly at the base of her throat, but she doesn't step back for the wolf that is now crowding her.

“Bold little thing isn't she,” I say to him.

Vorian’s lips peel back slightly.

He reaches out, both hands locking around her waist. She winces when his claws bite into the soft curve of her hips, but he doesn’t loosen his grip.

Not even a fraction.

With a sharp pull, he drags her flush against our chest until there isn’t even a whisper of space between us.

Vorian dips his head slowly, deliberately, nuzzling into the sensitive space just beneath her ear. He breathes her in deep, chest rumbling low when her scent floods his lungs — storm-sweet and heated.

“MINE,” he growls against her skin.

She still fights it, shaking her head in defiance even while her entire body shudders as a breathy sound leaves her parted lips. It's like music to our ears. The sharp, sweet scent of her rising arousal blooms into the air between us, thick and intoxicating.

It slams straight into our bloodstream.

And my wolf—

Pushes closer.

It feels as if my wolf completely blacks out for several seconds, my vision going black.

I know he did not just f*cking block me out.

“I swear to the Fates that if you don't remove this sh*t right this second, Vorian…” I don't have to finish my threat.

The soft light from my room filters back through the dark. Vorian has clearly lost all control. One hand slides from her waist to beneath her ass as he hauls her clean off her feet.

Alora lets out a startled gasp as her hand flies to our shoulders to steady herself.

“Bane—”

He cuts her off with a deep growl.

“Vorian, my name is Vorian,” he corrects, voice rough with something far more dangerous than simple anger.

Then our mouth crashes over hers.

Vorian growls into her mouth as his hands lock firmly beneath her thighs, lifting her higher until she’s forced flush against our body — exactly where he wants her. Exactly where she can feel everything. The sound of her silk dress ripping splits the air, mingling with our ragged breaths.

Her fingers tighten in our skin.

For half a heartbeat, she goes rigid in our arms—

—and then she pushes at our shoulders.

Fighting.

Still fighting.

The little storm.

Vorian is done listening and only deepens the kiss in response, letting one hand spread wide under her, holding her effortlessly in place while his chest rumbles with dark satisfaction when the bond takes over, and her body finally melts into ours.

Mine.