Stroke of Midnight

He glanced up at her, baring those beautiful, sharp tips with his hungry, definitely wicked smile. He gave a slow shake of his head. “Four more nights is only the beginning. Starting now, you’re mine forever.”

She nodded, too swept up in love and desire to form words.

Emotion overwhelmed her as she watched him bite into his wrist to open his veins for her. “Drink from me,” he rasped thickly, bringing the punctures to her parted lips.

Sera fastened her mouth to the wounds and stroked her tongue across the strong tendons of his wrist. His blood called to her, more deeply than she could ever have imagined. She moaned as the first swallow roared through her senses, into her cells. She drank more, reveling in the power of the bond as Jehan’s essence—his life—became part of hers.

And all the while she drank, he rocked within her, creating a pleasure so immense she could hardly bear it.

“You’re mine, Seraphina.” He stared down at her as she fed, as she came on a shattered scream. “Starting tonight, you’re only mine.”

“Yes.”

On a rumble of satisfaction, he drew his wrist to his mouth and sealed the punctures closed with a swipe of his tongue. His blazing eyes were locked on her throat.

Sera brought her arms up around him as he lowered his head to her carotid and licked the fluttering pulse point that beat only for him.

And when her handsome Breed warrior—her eternal love—sank his fangs into her vein and took his first sip, Seraphina smiled.

Because whether she believed in magic or not, tonight she was holding the prince, the fairy tale, and the happily ever after in her arms.