Forged in Blood: A Dark Paranormal/ Fantasy romance (Broken Bloodlines Book 1)

I lean against the wall, watching droplets of rain sluice down the windowpane before funneling off the sill and dripping onto the rosebushes below. Despite the space heater blowing full blast beside me, I shiver against the cold. According to the thermostat, the room is balmy, but I’m still freezing.

It’s been five days since that night at the house, and I’ve replayed every moment of it on repeat in my mind. The carnage in the parking lot by the river haunts my sleep, but the story about the car wreck seems to have been accepted by everyone, so my nightmares about spending the rest of my life in prison have abated.

But mostly I can’t stop thinking about how the guys rescued me and how good they made me feel after. How my body lit up at their touch. The way it felt like they actually wanted me and weren’t simply pretending. Then I recall the professor and how mad he was. Malachi and Xavier breaking my heart when they walked me home. How despite them being a constant pain in my ass for the past six weeks, I haven’t seen any of them since. And how much that hurts.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

“Does it always rain when you are sad, Ophelia?” The deep, smooth timbre of his voice startles and soothes me at the same time. For the first time in almost a week, I feel a spark of warmth inside me.

I spin on my heel and stare into the face of Professor Drakos. He’s standing inside my dorm room, and I didn’t even hear him come in. He watches me intently, waiting for my reply. “Maybe I’m sad because it’s raining,” I offer.

He looks out the window behind me. “It has rained almost nonstop for five days now. Unusual weather for Havenwood, even in October.”

I shrug. “I’ve lived in this area all my life. The weather’s always been unpredictable.”

He doesn’t reply, but his black eyes fix on mine. Something warm and familiar coils in my gut. I feel pinned in place by his gaze. Is this more of that vampire voodoo? Desperate to break the spell he seems to have me under, I focus on a spot above his head. “Did you come here to discuss the weather, Professor?”

He takes a seat on my bed uninvited, and I should be mad at his intrusion into my life, but all I can think about is how the sinfully delicious Professor Drakos is sitting on my unicorn comforter. My mind fills with the dirtiest images of him sinking his fangs into the most intimate parts of me.

His eyes, darker than the depths of hell, narrow. “But we are not simply talking about the weather, Ophelia.”

“We’re not?”

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he inhales deeply, and a shiver of excitement laced with something unfamiliar shudders up my spine. It takes me a second to recognize that it’s fear. He frightens me, and I don’t understand why. Despite his ruthless exterior and rumored cruel streak, his actions have only ever protected me.

My legs tremble, and I croak, “So why are you here?”

“Axl is sick.”

Well, that was anticlimactic. “I hope he feels better soon,” I say in a dry tone, not really caring one way or the other.

Professor Drakos licks his lips. “Oh, he will.”

That sliver of fear snakes its way into my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. I lean against my desk and grip the edge tightly. “Why are you telling me this?”

Before I can blink, he’s standing in front of me. “Because you are what he needs to cure his sickness, Ophelia.”

I bark out a laugh at the absurdity, and he frowns, no amusement in his eyes at all. “You are … special.”

I snort. “I think we both know I’m not.”

“Your blood is special, Ophelia. He had a taste, and now he needs more. You are the only thing that will cure his sickness.” He looms over me, his eyes burning into mine, and a jolt of something dark and wickedly dangerous ripples through my entire body.

He needs my blood? Oh, the irony of him needing me tastes like poetic justice. Well, pity for him, I don’t give a donkey’s butt crack about him being sick. “So you expect me to let him bite me?”

“Yes,” he says coolly, like it’s nothing to have some evil bloodsucker feasting on me.

I scoff. “No way. I’m not letting any of you freaks drink my blood. I hate you all.”

His tongue darts along his full bottom lip, and another image of his mouth on the inside of my thigh sears itself into my brain like the negative of a photograph. It’s like déjà vu. He leans closer, dipping his head a little so that his warm breath dusts over my forehead. “You let him drink it from your virgin pussy.” The low growl in his voice rumbles straight to my very core.

“That was different,” I mumble, my cheeks burning.

“Why? Because you enjoyed it? I can assure you a vampire’s bite is quite pleasurable.”

I shake my head. “No, not because I enjoyed it. I didn’t agree to let him drink my blood. It was a …” I swallow hard.

“But you knew you were a virgin and must have known there was a good chance you would bleed. You are not that naive, Ophelia.”

My face grows hot with shame. “I didn’t think about it.”

“Well, your lack of thinking put Axl in danger. If he does not drink your blood, he will die.”

“Wait, what? He’ll die?”

He gives a short nod, and I suck in a shaky breath. This is all way too confusing. “I thought—they told me vampires could only be killed by having their heads chopped off.”

He inches closer. “That is the quickest and surest death, but unfortunately not the only one.”

“Are you messing with me? Is this some kind of trick to get me to⁠—”

His hand goes around my throat, and he pushes me back against the desk and steps between my thighs. In spite of every rational cell in my body shouting that this is bad, a helpless, hungry whimper tumbles from my mouth as his body presses flush against mine. He rests his lips against the shell of my ear. “Do not underestimate me, Ophelia. This is not a request. I will not allow Axl to perish when you are so easily capable of saving him. Now, you will come with me, and you will give him what he needs. Do you understand me?”

I feel the power radiating from him, aware that he could easily snap my neck with a mere twitch of his fingers. What the hell have I gotten myself into? “Y-yes,” I rasp.

He releases me, but his eyes stay fixed on mine while I rub at my tender skin. “Let us go.”

He turns, and having no choice but to obey, I grab my raincoat from the peg on the door and follow him out of the building into the fresh air. Heavy clouds darken the sky, but the rain seems to be held at bay for now.

“What does this mean?” I ask, practically jogging to keep up with his pace. “Why is my blood so special? Can all people make vampires sick? Will he get sick again? Will he always need my blood?”

He shoots me an annoyed look over his shoulder, then frowns. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

“When I’m about to have my soul feasted on by a creature of the night, yes!”

His frustration is palpable and makes the damp air even heavier. I should try to dial it down a little, but my innate curiosity won’t let me. There’s so much to know, and he’s infuriatingly uncommunicative. “Can you at least tell me if I’m going to be his snack bag for the rest of my life? Because that would put a big dent in my life plans.”

He turns and gives me his full attention once more, and I almost wish he hadn’t because the fiery look he gives me makes my knees wobble. Why do I feel as though he’d like me to be his snack too? But that’s ridiculous. A vampire as powerful as Alexandros Drakos would take whatever he wanted from me. Still, I can’t help but notice the electricity that always seems to crackle between us. “He will not get sick again. And you will not need to be his snack bag unless you choose to be.”

“Well, that’s good, then. Axl gets better and I can go on living my life. Better yet, I never have to see any of you assholes again.” I shove my hands into the pockets of my raincoat. “That’s all good.”

His sideways glance tells me he doesn’t believe me, and I don’t blame him. I’m not sure I believe myself.

I’m not in any way prepared for the sight that greets me when I walk into Axl’s room. He lies curled up in the middle of his bed, his dry, cracked lips trembling over chattering teeth. The pallor of his skin makes him unrecognizable. As I draw nearer, I can see his usually sparkling chocolate-brown eyes are matte black. Bloodshot and drawn, they stare right through me, dominating his pale features.

Malachi puts a hand on my arm. “Careful, Ophelia. He’s not himself.” I shrug him off. He doesn’t get to pretend to care after what he did.

“He poses no danger to her.” The professor’s calm tone carries across the room.

I take a step closer, feeling no fear because I sense that he’s right, although I have no evidence to base that assumption on. I’m so driven by my feelings around them all, especially Professor Drakos. I seem to operate with my senses rather than any logical thought processes, which is probably a good thing given that they’re, you know, vampires.

Axl’s nose wrinkles. He sniffs the air and croaks, “Ophelia?”

I glance behind me at the professor, looking for guidance, and he simply nods at me to go on. I sit on the bed beside Axl. “I’m here.”

His teeth snap together, and he snarls but makes no attempt to bite me.

Xavier and Malachi stare at the two of us, then shoot a worried glance at the professor. “Fuck, Alexandros. Give him permission,” Xavier pleads.

I blink. “Permission?”

Alexandros steps farther into the room, rubbing a hand over his jaw and staring at Axl with such pain on his face that it makes my heart ache. I’m so out of my depth here, thrust into a world where I have no idea of the rules.

“Alexandros!” Xavier snaps. “He would never disobey you. You know that. Let him feed.”

I swallow hard, my pulse spiking. Feed? That sounds so brutal. Once the professor gives permission, what then? Do I only feel safe because of the power he still wields over Axl, even in this near-rabid state?

I don’t have any more time to worry because the professor’s commanding voice fills the room. “You may bite her, Axl.”

As soon as the words leave the professor’s lips, Axl’s hand is on the back of my head. I yelp with surprise when he sinks his sharp fangs into my skin and begins to suck, so gently that I don’t feel any pain. Instead, warm waves of pleasure roll over me. To my mortification, I moan. Loudly.

With a grunt, Axl flips me onto my back and pins me to his bed while he drinks from my neck. It shouldn’t feel this good, but pleasure engulfs me like the warmth from a fire on a winter day. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around him, holding him close as euphoria snakes through my veins, warming my limbs and setting my core aflame. It feels so good that I wrap my legs around his waist and shamelessly grind against him despite our audience. My brain screams at me that this is wrong, but I’m unable to stop my body from responding to his.

He lifts his head and licks my blood from his lips, his brown eyes sparkling once more. “Holy fuck, Pyro,” he says with a grin.

“Are you okay now?” I whisper.

He laughs wickedly and runs his nose up the column of my throat. “I have a feeling I’m never gonna be okay ever again.”

“Give them the room,” the professor barks, and I don’t understand why he’s angry. This is what he wanted, isn’t it?

Xavier growls. “What? No. Why the fu⁠—”

“I said leave them!”

“Fuck’s sake,” Xavier mutters, but he obediently files out of the room behind Professor Drakos.

Malachi shuffles after them, but before he closes the door, he gives me a longing look and mouths sorry. I return my attention to Axl and find his eyes fixed on me, the weight of his body pressing me into the mattress and his warm breath dusting over my face.

Regret, shame, and humiliation ball in my throat, but I swallow them down. I need to get out of here and far away from him. He’s taken what he wanted, and now it’s time for me to leave.

So why don’t I move?