Chapter 3
Boaz
“It’s true, then. He’s awake.” Manlius said as he accepted a glass of wine from one of the vampires weaving through the gathered crowd, serving drinks as the celebration for the return of the vampire king swelled around them.
Manlius lifted the glass, swirling the dark red liquid once before taking a slow sip.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he moaned, grating on Boaz’s nerves.
“Is it?” Boaz asked as he folded his arms across his bare chest. The movement caught Manlius’s attention.
“Should I be worried that you’re not dressed?” Manlius asked dryly.
Boaz almost shook his head but stopped.
Maybe Manlius should be worried. He was.
He hadn’t even bothered to get dressed since he got back, hadn’t even thought about it.
He’d been too keyed up, his instincts screaming at him to keep the vampire in his line of sight.
There was something about him he just didn’t trust. Maybe the vampire was still infected.
But Alexander wasn’t behaving the way he had back then. And the black veins that had twisted beneath Alexander’s skin as if something monstrous lived inside him weren’t there.
He looked normal. Except—
He bit me.
Boaz resisted the urge to reach up and touch the aching mark on his neck. The skin there still throbbed faintly. It had happened so fast he barely had time to react. One second, they were talking and the next…Boaz swallowed hard, heat burning down his spine.
Fuck, that never should have happened.
“Boaz?” Manlius asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. The sorcerer stepped closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Are you expecting him to attack?”
Boaz tore his gaze away from Alexander across the clearing and forced himself to look at Manlius instead.
“No,” he said slowly. Then he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know. Maybe you can check with your magic. Make sure everyone is safe.”
“My magic doesn’t work that way. We’d need a healer to examine him for something like that.”
“Do you know anyone?” Boaz asked.
“Yes,” Manlius said, swirling the wine lazily in his glass. “I’ll arrange a meeting.”
“Okay,” Boaz replied. “I’m sure he’d want to know whether he’s fully healed or not.”
“Fuck. I really hope he did heal himself,” Manlius said. “I don’t want to fight him again. We barely managed to subdue him last time.”
“Yeah,” Boaz agreed quietly. His gaze drifted back to Alexander despite himself.
And froze. The vampire was standing directly in front of Lyla now. Boaz watched as Alexander reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips.
The gesture was smooth. Intimate. Possessive.
“What the hell?” Boaz muttered under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” Manlius asked, following the direction of his gaze. The warlock’s brows lifted in amusement. “Oh,” he said lightly. “Looks like you have competition.”
“How…?” Boaz started, but he trailed off when Manlius turned toward him with a knowing smile.
“My magic feeds off strong emotions,” the sorcerer said calmly. “And you, my friend, are radiating some very strong feelings right now. And they are…”
Before he could finish, Hansel suddenly came barreling toward them. He had a wine glass clutched in one hand, the dark red liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim as he rushed forward.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Hansel demanded breathlessly. Boaz barely had time to answer before his brother was speaking again. “He’s making moves on Lyla!” Hansel hissed, jerking his chin toward the couple in the clearing. “You should go over there and put a stop to it.”
Boaz hesitated.
A knot tightened in his chest. He didn’t have a claim on Lyla. He hadn’t even told her how he felt yet.
“Go,” Hansel said, giving him a hard shove between the shoulders. Boaz stumbled forward before he could protest, his feet skidding slightly in the dirt as he was pushed straight into the middle of the clearing. Instantly, every head turned towards him.
Boaz felt heat crawl up the back of his neck.
Suddenly, he was painfully aware of the fact that he was standing there in nothing but his damn underwear.
Werewolves didn’t care much about nudity.
They shifted in front of each other all the time.
But tonight, the clearing wasn’t just full of werewolves, there were vampires too. And they were all staring at him.
Damn it, Hansel.
Boaz felt completely out of his depth. He could barely talk to Lyla when it was just the two of them alone. What the hell was he supposed to say now?
He tried to think of something to say as he made his way toward where Lyla and Alexander stood.
But when he finally reached them… his mind was completely blank.
“Can I have a word with you?” Boaz asked, staring straight at Alexander. Before the vampire could answer, Boaz turned and walked away, long strides carrying him away from the curious eyes of the pack as he headed for the trees. He stopped at the edge of the lake.
Moonlight shimmered across the dark water. His clothes were still scattered across the ground where he’d left them earlier.
He wished he could go back. Back to that quiet moment when it had just been him and Lyla in the lake. Now it felt like that moment had never happened at all. He should have said something. Should have taken the chance when he had it. Should have asked her to be his.
Instead he had hesitated… and now another man was standing in front of her, kissing her hand like she already belonged to him.
With a frustrated sigh, Boaz bent and dragged his clothes on, disappointment squeezing his chest.
The soft crunch of footsteps over gravel and fallen leaves broke the silence behind him.
“It’s almost dawn,” Boaz said without turning around. “Thank you for the wine. I’m sure you’re ready to return home.”
Silence met his word.
Fuck. Was he going to have to spell it out for him?
When he turned around, he was met by the vampire’s intense stare. The cold blue of his eyes bled into a glowing red.
His eyes had done that right before he bit me.
Goosebumps raced over Boaz’s skin as they continued to stare at each other. He forced himself not to look away, even though every instinct told him to. His heart slammed harder the longer they held each other’s gaze.
“Are you telling me to leave?” Alexander asked after a tense moment.
“Yes, I…” Boaz said, the rest of his words dying in his mouth as Alexander stalked closer and something electric, alive, shimmied over his skin tingling where it had no right to.
Fuck, why?
Boaz balled his hands into fists at his sides, trying to fight whatever the hell this was.
But the feeling only intensified the closer Alexander came. It pinched at his skin, squeezed the air from his lungs, wrapped tight around his chest like invisible fingers.
His body was reacting to the vampire. Reacting in a visceral, instinctive way he had never felt before. Not with anyone. Not even Lyla. It was as if some buried part of him had been asleep his entire life and Alexander had woken it up with a single bite to the neck.
Boaz clenched his fists harder, his nails biting into his palms.
“I want you to leave,” he said firmly. “And stay away from Lyla. She’s…” He hesitated, then forced the rest out. “She’s someone I’m interested in.”
“Is that so?” Alexander said. Only a single step separated them.
Boaz blinked. His heart slammed painfully against his ribs. “Yes.”
Alexander’s eyes glowed in the darkness as he stared at him.
“I can’t do that,” the vampire snarl. “She’s my bride.”
The word hung heavy between them. Shocking and troubling.
“I joined the war because I was destined to meet her,” Alexander continued, his lips curling back revealing the tips his fangs. “And I’m not going to let you or anyone stop me from claiming her.”
He leaned closer, so close Boaz felt the heat coming off his body. The vampire’s nostrils flared slightly.
Was he… smelling him?
“You’d better not stand in my way,” Alexander added coldly. And then he was gone.
Boaz stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where the vampire had been, his mind going over Alexander’s ridiculous claim.
“She’s my bride”.
Lyla… Alexander’s bride?
Not a chance in hell.
She’s going to be mine, Boaz silently declared.
With that thought, he turned and headed back toward the clearing.
By the time he came through the trees, the clearing looked almost deserted. The bonfire had burned low, its flames licking lazily at the remaining wood while glowing embers drifted up into the dark sky. Only two figures remained near the fire. Hansel and Manlius. They were clearly waiting for him.
Boaz exhaled when he saw them, a weary sigh slipping past his lips.
“What happened?” Hansel asked. “The vampires left.”
“Good,” Boaz muttered. He didn’t stop walking.
Instead, he turned toward the tiny path that led to his cabin, tucked away from the rest of the pack deep in the forest.
“I spoke to the healer,” Manlius called after him. “He said he could come tomorrow.” Boaz kept walking. “Will Alexander be here tomorrow?”
“I hope not!” Boaz shouted back over his shoulder.
“You hope not?” Manlius asked, clearly confused. “I thought you wanted him checked by a healer.”
Boaz rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his frustration mounting.
“If he does show up,” Manlius continued, “bring him to my coven. I wouldn’t want Brett to come all this way for nothing.”
Fuck.
Boaz exhaled heavily as he disappeared down the path. He really didn’t want that vampire anywhere near here again. He was already disrupting the peaceful, simple life Boaz had built for himself.
Stirring up things he didn’t understand. Making him feel things he absolutely did not want to feel.
I don’t fucking want him here, Boaz silently screamed.