Read Online The Druid Series 9: Baird (A Druid Novel) by Marata Eros - Free Book Online
Authors: Marata Eros
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taste.
Her eyes roll up to his.
His gaze begs her to say nothing of the discovery she’s made.
He cups the back of her head against every fiber of his will.
That is the trouble with genetics and being a mixed-blood. You never know when one of your own may cross your path.
She feels him grow hard against her, involuntarily rocking his hips against her.
He gives a hard thrust, and her side grows wet from the release of his seed. Titus groans, and his arms convulse around her.
The act of blood letting from one Exotic to another is intimate.
Bonding.
The leader of the Faction meets Siana's eyes as she licks the wound, getting every last drop.
The act also closes it. She is meant to drink blood from a male of Exotic blood, as she did with Titus, though she did not know his lineage until now.
The leader strolls down from the knoll he had been upon when she asserted her independence.
“ What have we here?” He circles them.
Titus of the wet breeches and healing scar on his chest replies, “She is fed.”
“Then let her up. She can stand, walk, and be guarded.” The leader’s eyes narrow.
Titus's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “I cannot, Edward.”
His face knots between eyes like dirty glass. “Why ever not?”
Titus wastes blood on a blush that burns beneath his fair skin. “She is blood-bonded to me.”
Edward laughs in disbelief. “Impossible.”
Siana shrinks back when Edward flares his nostrils at her neck.
He jerks back, a stunned expression overtaking his face.
“ She is not a lone Druid female.”
A triangle of Faction move nearer to them and Titus jerks Siana against him.
Edward frowns. “Let go of the Druid, Titus.”
Siana looks over her shoulder and sees his jaw clench.
“I cannot,” Titus says through gritted teeth.
Edward's eyes narrow. “You cannot because she is not just Druid.” His smile widens. “But queen.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Baird
He and Carrig make haste, using their skills as trackers to their advantage. It is not the first time Baird has been grateful for that inborn talent of the Reaper. Except for that little bit of Exotic blood, he is fully Reaper and maintains much of what is unique to his species.
Some believe pure-blood genetics are an advantage.
It is a point of blinding ignorance.
Any being who encounters the Faction would know better. Their mixing is arsenal aplenty to combat the “purity” of genetics.
There has been much conjecture about what separates the rogue from the nomadic criminal Faction who call themselves vampires. The truth remains, the difference is more a choice of alliance than genetic make-up. Is it true that the rogue are made up of mainly Reaper-driven blood? That a healthy dose of Druid lineage is a part of that? Yes.
As he and Carrig run toward the scent of Druid females, Baird reminds himself that many of the Faction also hold the blood of the Reaper—and of the Druid.
There are also some who may hold that of the Exotic.
The most disturbing fact is vampire blood might be mixed with other supernatural blood that is far from vampiric.
Werewolf, the blooded enemy of vampire. Demon and angel's blood might also be a part.
He and Carrig might walk into a trap from which there is no escape. It is sure to be a surprise, and sometimes surprise can act as a fine weapon.
Carrig holds up a hand. “Baird,” he says in a voice almost too low to hear. Full of caution.
Baird slows, the small lashes on his face from the branches healing as he stands.
“Do you smell that?”
Baird nods. Death. He smells the death of... his nostrils flare. He scowls.
Kael.
Oh goddess no. Siana.
Baird tears off in the direction where the scent is strongest.
“Baird, no!” Carrig roars, tossing caution aside.
Baird ignores him. Rushing into an open area, he sees the broken body of Kael.
He knows what it means. Carrig does not.
“ What is it?” Carrig says, dismissing the dead rogue.
“ He—he was with Siana. He is her
Her eyes roll up to his.
His gaze begs her to say nothing of the discovery she’s made.
He cups the back of her head against every fiber of his will.
That is the trouble with genetics and being a mixed-blood. You never know when one of your own may cross your path.
She feels him grow hard against her, involuntarily rocking his hips against her.
He gives a hard thrust, and her side grows wet from the release of his seed. Titus groans, and his arms convulse around her.
The act of blood letting from one Exotic to another is intimate.
Bonding.
The leader of the Faction meets Siana's eyes as she licks the wound, getting every last drop.
The act also closes it. She is meant to drink blood from a male of Exotic blood, as she did with Titus, though she did not know his lineage until now.
The leader strolls down from the knoll he had been upon when she asserted her independence.
“ What have we here?” He circles them.
Titus of the wet breeches and healing scar on his chest replies, “She is fed.”
“Then let her up. She can stand, walk, and be guarded.” The leader’s eyes narrow.
Titus's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “I cannot, Edward.”
His face knots between eyes like dirty glass. “Why ever not?”
Titus wastes blood on a blush that burns beneath his fair skin. “She is blood-bonded to me.”
Edward laughs in disbelief. “Impossible.”
Siana shrinks back when Edward flares his nostrils at her neck.
He jerks back, a stunned expression overtaking his face.
“ She is not a lone Druid female.”
A triangle of Faction move nearer to them and Titus jerks Siana against him.
Edward frowns. “Let go of the Druid, Titus.”
Siana looks over her shoulder and sees his jaw clench.
“I cannot,” Titus says through gritted teeth.
Edward's eyes narrow. “You cannot because she is not just Druid.” His smile widens. “But queen.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Baird
He and Carrig make haste, using their skills as trackers to their advantage. It is not the first time Baird has been grateful for that inborn talent of the Reaper. Except for that little bit of Exotic blood, he is fully Reaper and maintains much of what is unique to his species.
Some believe pure-blood genetics are an advantage.
It is a point of blinding ignorance.
Any being who encounters the Faction would know better. Their mixing is arsenal aplenty to combat the “purity” of genetics.
There has been much conjecture about what separates the rogue from the nomadic criminal Faction who call themselves vampires. The truth remains, the difference is more a choice of alliance than genetic make-up. Is it true that the rogue are made up of mainly Reaper-driven blood? That a healthy dose of Druid lineage is a part of that? Yes.
As he and Carrig run toward the scent of Druid females, Baird reminds himself that many of the Faction also hold the blood of the Reaper—and of the Druid.
There are also some who may hold that of the Exotic.
The most disturbing fact is vampire blood might be mixed with other supernatural blood that is far from vampiric.
Werewolf, the blooded enemy of vampire. Demon and angel's blood might also be a part.
He and Carrig might walk into a trap from which there is no escape. It is sure to be a surprise, and sometimes surprise can act as a fine weapon.
Carrig holds up a hand. “Baird,” he says in a voice almost too low to hear. Full of caution.
Baird slows, the small lashes on his face from the branches healing as he stands.
“Do you smell that?”
Baird nods. Death. He smells the death of... his nostrils flare. He scowls.
Kael.
Oh goddess no. Siana.
Baird tears off in the direction where the scent is strongest.
“Baird, no!” Carrig roars, tossing caution aside.
Baird ignores him. Rushing into an open area, he sees the broken body of Kael.
He knows what it means. Carrig does not.
“ What is it?” Carrig says, dismissing the dead rogue.
“ He—he was with Siana. He is her
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