was in the room; his senses could make that much out. Since the
area was cloaked in darkness, several hours must have passed. Searching his
memory for any explanation, he came up blank. He remembered nothing after
Raylene left.
A frightening
realization hit him. Was he suffering from The Concealment? Did Julian pass it
on to him? How could that even be possible? They didn’t share any blood.
Perhaps Deegan did this, during the turning. Raylene and Julian’s father,
Raynor, contracted the madness that way, didn’t he? He roared and pulled again
at the restraints.
“Stop struggling,
Marcus. You canna escape.”
Logan. Her sexy, sporadic burr sent carnal chills down his spine. His cock
hardened immediately.
“What happened?”
He was shocked
how raw and hoarse his voice sounded.
“You tore
Brennan’s room to pieces. You also broke off your cast. Luckily, you were nearly
healed. You were sedated, and I took some blood. We are running tests.”
“The
Concealment?”
“We dinna know.”
Logan moved
toward the door.
“Wait! Don’t
leave me...”
Jesus, he sounded
pathetic. The truth rocked him, and stark fear gripped him tight. He was going
mad.
“What do you want
of me?” Logan cried. Her voice quivered with emotion.
“There is
something between us. You know what it is. Tell me.”
He heard a sigh
as Logan sat on a nearby chair. “Has Deegan told you of the Mate Bond?”
His addled brain
tried to recall Deegan’s visits and his non-stop narrative of Vampire rules,
regulations, policies, and physicality.
“Are you telling
me that we are fated mates?”
“I don’t accept
it. It is not possible. You are a Bloodling. Newly turned Vampires dinna experience
the Mate Bond for years! I refuse you, I will never...”
Her words hurt.
What was another slice at his damned heart?
“Because I’m
damaged, scarred, ugly...”
“Oh, bloody well
stop, Marcus! You think I care about your looks?” she cried.
Then what else
could it be? True, she never flinched from him or burst into tears at his
appearance. She even touched his horrid face. Then what—
“I am Thrope.
That is the reason. Correct?”
“Oh, God. I swore
I would never take another mate. And yes, I abhor your Thrope origins. Shall I
tell you why? My last mate was human, back in Scotland in the mid-1700s.
Blessed sea mother, how I loved him. Allen MacAdam, Laird and warrior. I told
you our Clan had been attacked. A Thrope killed my Allen, tore him to pieces in
front of me. But before the light left his beautiful eyes, he had to watch that
same beast rape me.” Logan shuddered. “You know what I had to endure. That
monster had me pinned to the mud for hours. I screamed until my voice was gone,
but it only spurred the Thrope onward. I don’t know how much time passed, until
Deegan tried to pull him off me.”
Marcus winced.
The man had been locked inside her. He knew the bestial side of Thrope mating.
“It was
providence that Deegan’s ship arrived at that moment. But for all his strength,
he could not pull the Thrope out of me. Deegan had a knife to his throat and
demanded he finish it. The Thrope finally completed his ... his ... Deegan
pulled him off me. I was bleeding and torn. Deegan killed him. By the time we
were at sea headed toward Nova Scotia, I knew I was pregnant and it wasn’t
Allen’s. Mercifully, the babe dinna survive. The dreaded Faepyre curse, though
for me, it was a blessing.” Logan dashed away a tear. “I will never accept you
for mate. Never.”
No wonder she ran
from him. Her narrative was heart wrenching to hear, and compassion flooded his
soul.
“Logan, listen.
I’m sorry that happened to you. I can’t speak to Thropes in the eighteenth
century, but there are evil souls in every species in the Shadow World and among
humankind. You can’t lump me in with the psycho who killed your mate and raped
you.”
“So says the wolf
that is tied to the bed.”
Marcus inhaled. Her
scent was like crack. His cock
area was cloaked in darkness, several hours must have passed. Searching his
memory for any explanation, he came up blank. He remembered nothing after
Raylene left.
A frightening
realization hit him. Was he suffering from The Concealment? Did Julian pass it
on to him? How could that even be possible? They didn’t share any blood.
Perhaps Deegan did this, during the turning. Raylene and Julian’s father,
Raynor, contracted the madness that way, didn’t he? He roared and pulled again
at the restraints.
“Stop struggling,
Marcus. You canna escape.”
Logan. Her sexy, sporadic burr sent carnal chills down his spine. His cock
hardened immediately.
“What happened?”
He was shocked
how raw and hoarse his voice sounded.
“You tore
Brennan’s room to pieces. You also broke off your cast. Luckily, you were nearly
healed. You were sedated, and I took some blood. We are running tests.”
“The
Concealment?”
“We dinna know.”
Logan moved
toward the door.
“Wait! Don’t
leave me...”
Jesus, he sounded
pathetic. The truth rocked him, and stark fear gripped him tight. He was going
mad.
“What do you want
of me?” Logan cried. Her voice quivered with emotion.
“There is
something between us. You know what it is. Tell me.”
He heard a sigh
as Logan sat on a nearby chair. “Has Deegan told you of the Mate Bond?”
His addled brain
tried to recall Deegan’s visits and his non-stop narrative of Vampire rules,
regulations, policies, and physicality.
“Are you telling
me that we are fated mates?”
“I don’t accept
it. It is not possible. You are a Bloodling. Newly turned Vampires dinna experience
the Mate Bond for years! I refuse you, I will never...”
Her words hurt.
What was another slice at his damned heart?
“Because I’m
damaged, scarred, ugly...”
“Oh, bloody well
stop, Marcus! You think I care about your looks?” she cried.
Then what else
could it be? True, she never flinched from him or burst into tears at his
appearance. She even touched his horrid face. Then what—
“I am Thrope.
That is the reason. Correct?”
“Oh, God. I swore
I would never take another mate. And yes, I abhor your Thrope origins. Shall I
tell you why? My last mate was human, back in Scotland in the mid-1700s.
Blessed sea mother, how I loved him. Allen MacAdam, Laird and warrior. I told
you our Clan had been attacked. A Thrope killed my Allen, tore him to pieces in
front of me. But before the light left his beautiful eyes, he had to watch that
same beast rape me.” Logan shuddered. “You know what I had to endure. That
monster had me pinned to the mud for hours. I screamed until my voice was gone,
but it only spurred the Thrope onward. I don’t know how much time passed, until
Deegan tried to pull him off me.”
Marcus winced.
The man had been locked inside her. He knew the bestial side of Thrope mating.
“It was
providence that Deegan’s ship arrived at that moment. But for all his strength,
he could not pull the Thrope out of me. Deegan had a knife to his throat and
demanded he finish it. The Thrope finally completed his ... his ... Deegan
pulled him off me. I was bleeding and torn. Deegan killed him. By the time we
were at sea headed toward Nova Scotia, I knew I was pregnant and it wasn’t
Allen’s. Mercifully, the babe dinna survive. The dreaded Faepyre curse, though
for me, it was a blessing.” Logan dashed away a tear. “I will never accept you
for mate. Never.”
No wonder she ran
from him. Her narrative was heart wrenching to hear, and compassion flooded his
soul.
“Logan, listen.
I’m sorry that happened to you. I can’t speak to Thropes in the eighteenth
century, but there are evil souls in every species in the Shadow World and among
humankind. You can’t lump me in with the psycho who killed your mate and raped
you.”
“So says the wolf
that is tied to the bed.”
Marcus inhaled. Her
scent was like crack. His cock
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