The Joining: Bound By Blood

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His gaze haunts her like no other. Her beauty leaves him speechless.

One caress, one kiss, one taste of the enigmatic Ariel and a maelstrom engulfs D’Nar. One touch of the dark, virile vampyr and her secret passion ignites—a forbidden craving to be taken and overcome by this superior race. Before long, they are bound not only by her blood and his need for it, but by her humanity as their desire swells in time to the desert wind that whirls around them.

When Ariel agrees to become D’Nar’s concubine, she has no idea their mutual attraction will explode into a fury of ecstasy. But can this irresistible passion survive the growing distrust between human and vampyr? Can it survive an ancient evil bent on revenge? And knowing all the odds stacked against them, could it ever blossom into love?

In order for their world to survive, Ariel and D’Nar learn that desire alone will not carry them to the end of their quest. Only when they trust each other enough to love unconditionally can they save their civilization—and themselves.

Rated

Rose (268 pages)

She smelled of sunlight and sweet herbs, yet he knew only darkness. A line of blood dripped from the wound created by the stiletto. His lust for blood slammed into him. “I think,” Ariel responded, “that I’d better take care of the wound myself.”

With the gentlest of intent, D’Nar lifted the hair off her shoulder. Spun red gold, he thought, even in the darkening gray of the oncoming storm. He leaned in, forcing her back against the wall, then braced one arm against the stone. Careful so as not to touch any other part of her body, his tongue snaked out toward the thin red stream.

“Will you allow me?”

He sensed her indecision. Once he tasted her blood, he would want her, for a vampyr’s need for sex and blood couldn’t be separated. Perhaps she feared that she would want him back.

His breathing labored in his chest. The craving for the tangy taste of her blood careened about the edges of his lips. His cock became engorged, filling with desire. D’Nar closed his eyes as he shuddered, trying to rein in the lust created by her blood and her beauty.

“My Lord?”

Opening his eyes, he read shocked disbelief in hers. He understood her confusion. He was a grown male vampyr, not a youngster in heat. He had no business subjecting her to this public display. “I ask your pardon. I haven’t fed recently.”

Given what had just occurred, he could understand her trepidation as she backed up closer to the wall. “I suppose I should find your attraction to me flattering,” she told him. He followed her retreat, not quite understanding why his need for her should outweigh the social dictates he sought to protect.

He slid his cheek against hers, inhaling deeply. Her scent, mingled with the coppery tang of her blood, became an intoxicating combination. “I’m as much at a loss as you. But you must know that you’re extremely beautiful. Whatever possessed you to enter the marketplace and travel by yourself?”

There was something about her, something that called to the darkness inside him. He didn’t want to give in. He didn’t want to let go. She must have sensed the war within him.

“I needed some herbs for a salve,” she replied, pushing at his shoulders with her hands.

She had to know how useless her efforts were. He slid his lips along the strong line of her jaw. The metallic scent of her blood was driving him crazy. But he couldn’t lift his head as fierce urgency gripped him. He leaned closer to her. A power, a force deep within him, kept driving him, driving his need. “You take your healing obligations seriously.”

“I do.”

“Perhaps you would consider healing me?” Her breath caught, but she didn’t answer. “One taste? To seal the wound?”

The next several seconds were sheer torture. He hadn’t realized how much he needed her to nod. When she did, the dam of control broke as, with a rush of pleasure, he lapped up the fluid on her neck.

“My Lord,” she hesitated. Her hesitation told him she feared her reaction to him as much as his to her. “Remember. One taste.”

His head swam with the essence of her. He reared back, knowing he could become just as bad as, if not worse than, the two young vampyrs he’d saved her from. But he refused to apologize. He would never apologize for what he was.