Bound to the vampire lord
His head was still buzzing with everything she had said—the clans, the pure-bloods, the feeders, and worst of all, the bonding ritual.
Santa leaned back until he was staring up at the carved ceiling. He rubbed his palms over his face. Bonding ritual. Hannah had spoken of it as if it were natural, something everyone here understood, but for him it was nothing but a terrifying unknown. He could still hear her voice echoing in his head, light and casual, as though she weren’t explaining the kind of thing that could change his life forever.
Bab Populer