Bound By Bloodied Claws

Chapter Two

Maybe he was.

“We will,” Jace said simply. “The wolves and the vampires will send them back and close the door.”

They had to work together. In order for that doorway to shut, they’d both need to bleed. Only you’d be the one giving up the most blood.

And Jace would be the one to face hell.

Murmurs swept through the bar. The wolves finally seemed to realize just how serious this night was. A vampire wasn’t their prey. Instead, a vampire was becoming their alpha’s mate.

Jace came to your side again. When his hands—still tipped with those deadly claws—rose to your throat, you didn’t flinch. He swept back your hair and his knuckles brushed over your skin.

The wolves closed in now, watching, and some—some were already shifting. Mike swore and turned away. He stomped for the door.

“Don’t be afraid,” Jace’s voice, right at your ear. You could feel the whisper of his breath on your flesh.

“I’m not.” You're own voice was just as soft as his.

His claws skated down your neck. “Liar.” Wolf senses. Could he really smell your fear?

“Have you ever been bitten?” he asked.

"I'm a princess, I do the biting." You said with a stern look on your face.

So many eyes were on you. You'd known the bite would have to be in public. It was one of the pack rules. Claimings had to be public. Witnesses had to see the bite. Witnesses—just like in human marriage ceremonies.

Because that’s what a marking was…marriage. When a male wolf bit his female in front of the pack, he claimed her.

I can do this. You thought. It would just help if you're knees weren’t shaking. You gave him the truth, “Never, ever there happy?” No one had ever bitten you.

“Good.” Too much satisfaction purred in the one word.

“Don’t forget,” Your voice was way too breathless. You weren't actually looking forward to this, were you? “I'll get my turn later.” you said. “I’m counting on it.” Jace purred. Oh, damn.

You titled your head, arching your neck even as you closed your eyes. You wouldn’t look at the others as he did this. You would just close your eyes and pretend that—That I’m not giving my life to a werewolf.

His lips touched your skin first. You'd expected the bite. The sharp sting of teeth. Werewolves were supposed to be wild. No better than animals. That’s what the Council said, that’s what—His tongue licked your skin, and you lost your breath. Your breasts tightened even as your body tensed.

You didn’t open your eyes. Don’t want to see them. He sucked your skin, licked you, but didn’t bite, not yet. His arms surrounded you, his body sheltered you, and he made you wait.

Worse, the bastard made you want.
Because your skin was too sensitive, his lips too wickedly skilled, and if a vampire had a sweet spot—okay, yes, they all did—it was the neck. Just a few licks there, and you were choking back a moan.

Then you felt the edge of his teeth on your skin. “Do it,” you told him, desperate.“You accept me?” You nodded. “Say it, Y/N, I need the words. You have to say—” “I accept you!”

His teeth sank into you. Not your neck, but the curve of your shoulder. The pain was white-hot, pulsing. Then pleasure whipped through you. A wave of pleasure so intense that you cried out and opened your eyes.