His Little Hunter

Chapter 14

Royals blood had strong healing properties. Strong enough to revive a person from the brink of death when ingested. Because of this, Royal’s blood was a very rare and highly sought commodity. There were so few royals still alive after the last battle for the throne and the number of royals willing to give their blood out was even lower.

Especially since blood was a major catalyst to initiate the change. Very few were willing to hand their blood out and risk the creation of fledglings they had no knowledge of.

Before now, I’d never had a reason to use my blood to heal someone, let alone a human but I couldn’t bear to see the hunter writhe in pain. It almost felt like I was the one who was hurt.

I couldn’t stand to see the female who killed my brother writhe in pain. How laughable. All that talk about making her pay for what she’d done, now look at me. Healing her with my blood and staring at her unconscious form like a love-sick puppy. I didn’t even realise when my hand began stroking her short hair, hair that was barely an inch off her scalp.

It was one of those features that made her so unique and interesting to me. All the females I knew took great care with their appearances and that included their hair. Never had I met one who intentionally kept theirs this short. But then again, I didn’t know many females. Mel was the only female I could actually call a friend.

I knew the cut was intentional because the photos I’d acquired to identify the hunter early on in my search had shown a girl in her late teens with copper coloured hair that stretched down to her shoulders.

Even then when her picture had been the only lead I had, I’d been drawn to her. Back then I didn’t know why, I’d likened it to my thirst for revenge but now I knew the connection we had was far greater than what I’d anticipated.

My mate.

My hand continued to comb through her hair and I wondered why she’d decided to cut it so short. A part of me liked her unique hair but a small part subtly wished I could have seen in long.

The hunter, unconscious, leaned into my touch and I loathed how much pleasure the simple action brought me.

I watched as her little tongue darted over her now healed bottom lip stained with my blood. The muscle dragged my blood into her mouth as a pleased hum left her throat. My breath hitched at the sight and every muscle in my body strung tight.

My blood. . . In her. . .

This wouldn’t be a problem, right?

Vampires blood could change mortals into vampires but death was the catalyst needed to trigger that change. I didn’t need to worry about her reawakening seeing as I had no intention of killing her just yet. Or at all. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that some sort of taboo had just transpired here. Surely there would be no trace of my blood left in her system by the time I finally figured out what I was going to do with her.

Her tongue darted over her lip again, as though in search of my blood. As if she enjoyed the taste.

There was something so perverse about the way her tongue moved, that I couldn’t even focus on the possible implications of her ingesting my blood. All I could focus on was the rush of pleasure that shot through me when she did. A part of me wanted to believe she enjoyed my taste, wanted to believe she craved more and the primal need to sate that imaginary craving was unbearable.

Of course, she didn’t crave my blood. She was human.

If only she’d been born a vampire. Then I would let her sink her fangs into my throat and take as much blood as she pleased while I did the same. Absentmindedly, my hand trailed down the side of her slender neck, just over the ticking vein that beckoned me. My fangs lengthened against my control, the smell of her blood calling to me, urging me to lean down and have a taste. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to keep from biting her.

If she’d been born a vampire, I wouldn’t need to hold back. The current dilemma in my heart wouldn’t exist and I could claim her without guilt.

If she’d been born a vampire then she wouldn’t have been the hunter who claimed my brother’s life.

Like I’d been doused with a bucket of cold water, the heat burning inside me chilled and I was abruptly reminded of why I had gone through such arduous lengths to capture this female.

It didn’t matter that she was my bride, didn’t matter how much she tempted me, or how much I wished the circumstances were different. At the end of the day, this human was the one who killed my brother, the only family I had left. It was because of her that I would never get the chance to see him again.

Even now as I stared at her, I still couldn’t comprehend how one tiny mortal female could have killed a being as powerful as my brother. It had to have been one of her hunter tricks. There was no other explanation.

Because of this female, my brother was lost to me forever. The brother I’d admired. The brother who protected me and taught me what it meant to be strong. The one who’d given up his right to the throne to save me from a perilous demise. It was only because of him and his sacrifice that I still lived. I owed him everything.

But now he was gone, lost at the hands of this hunter. Anger boiled in my chest, replacing every feeling of lust I’d felt for the female.

She’d even flaunted his birthright like a trophy. Orion’s blade. The sword that had been passed down to each head of our family for generations. She’d taken it off my brother’s dead body and turned it into a tool to aid her hunter evil, tainted the sacred blade.

How could I even feel pity for this vile creature?

I stepped away from her, my resolve renewed. Mate or not, she was going to pay for her sins. My brother’s death would not be in vain.

I was going to make sure of that.