The Pack's Hybrids
“A mate should be taken with ceremony, with the moon upon our skin, and an altar adorned with flowers and tributes.”
He cupped Heath’s cheek, stroking his thumb over his skin. “We should spend three days and nights exchanging blood and making love, bonding in every way there is to bond, as slowly you turn vampire, taking each other into our bodies, our hearts, our souls. You will be my first mate, and fourth child, Heath. Before you, there came Sigrid, then Meguitte, and much, much later, Harry.”
“Mates,” Heath repeated. His tongue tasted metallic, or Talen’s blood. “That’s funny. I had thought you and Aislen would be first to make it formal.”
الفصول الرائجة