Blood Rites 4: a dark fantasy harem romance for men by Peter North

Author:Peter North [North, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

25

Enthralled

Belladonna’s heart pounded in her chest, echoing the rapid cadence of her footsteps as she navigated the labyrinthine corridors of Blackwood Manse. The ancient stone walls, shrouded in shadows and history, seemed to twist and turn just like the tumultuous emotions swirling within her. Each step she took was a dance of nerves and anticipation, a race towards a destiny she both yearned for and feared.

The manse, with its gothic arches and looming tapestries, mirrored Bella’s internal struggle. Here, the corridors branched and converged like the complex facets of her heart, leading her through a maze of uncertainty and desire. The flickering torches cast a warm, yet eerie glow, throwing her elongated shadow against the walls, a visual echo of her own wavering resolve.

As she hastened through the manor, the weight of Yvila’s bag and its grotesque contents dragged at her. Given the seriousness of the task she had to put to Sylvia, she was surprised that such a rush of passion could coexist along with her fear. Bella’s thoughts were a tempest of contradictions, but her body responded to both the anxious anticipation and her lust with the simple thrumming of her heart so that the two states seemed to feed each other, making one another grow more intense with each throb of her chest.

Sylvia was her dearest friend, her lifelong companion, and a sworn protector of her family. The love she bore for the doppelganger was an intricately wove tapestry with threads of deep affection and camaraderie along with, she now had to admit, a delicious highlight of desire that had gone unnoticed all these years. Her love for Sylvia was distinct from the fervent passion she felt for Lazarus, a bond forged in the crucible of war and shared secrets which only seemed to grow stronger with every moment they spent writhing naked in one another’s arms.

Now, as she rushed to initiate Sylvia into the sacred and ancient ritual that Yvila had taught her, Bella grappled with the complexity of these emotions, the parallel lines of love for her friend and her lover intersecting in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She had only just given herself to Lazarus, and yet her need ached deep within her as she rushed to her bedchamber and the promise of an even deeper connection.

The manse itself seemed to breathe around her, its creaking floors and whispering drafts a chorus to her racing thoughts. She passed through grand halls lined with portraits of ancestors long gone, their eyes following her, silent witnesses to the legacy she bore. The weight of her family's history pressed down upon her, a reminder of the responsibility she carried as the last of the Blackwoods.

Would Yvila’s ritual be enough to protect her if Lazarus’s bond broke the one Sylvia had to the Blackwood clan? There were stories in the family library of similar broken bonds which had gone very badly. Powerful entities that sought revenge for the centuries of servitude they had been forced to endure. Sylvia claimed not to remember her time with the family before Belladonna, and perhaps it was true.

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