The Vandal and the Virgin by Michele Mills

Author:Michele Mills [Mills, Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Julia could not stop admiring her husband.

His massive arms, chest and muscular thighs seemed like they could crush the small chair he lounged on as he waited impatiently for her to finish readying for the day. His long, shiny black hair flowed around his face. Predatory silver eyes watched her every movement. His curved horns now resembled perfect love handles. He was like a sleek, wild animal, barely tamed. And she wanted nothing more than to run her hands across the hard planes of his stomach, pull his leggings down and—

“Jasta, if she’s not finished soon—” he warned.

“There,” her friend announced. “Finished. Alaric, your mate,” Jasta emphasized with a broad grin on her face, “is dressed and ready for her day.”

Alaric smiled, his eyes crinkling attractively at the edges.

Julia’s heart stuttered at the brilliance.

Her new husband had stayed up the whole night rescuing both Yormans and Vandals from a deadly fire. He’d vowed to remain faithful to her and to make her a priority in his daily life. And he’d made fierce love to her, leaving her breathless and sweaty, ready for more. Just remembering last night caused her stomach to flutter and her womb to clench. And for some reason the fact that he’d bitten her with those scary white fangs and swapped blood and initiated some sort of Vandal mating bond, it just made it all the better. It meant that last night when he’d come inside of her, they might’ve actually created a child.

Just a short while ago she was terrified at the idea of bearing this man’s “spawn.” It was crazy how quickly she’d changed in her view of him. And yet, of course all the other roadblocks remained. He still didn’t seem to suspect that she had magic. This was where it was good that he was a Vandal and not Yorman.

There was definitely more to Alaric than the uncivilized monster he was reported to be. Maybe buried deep underneath the fur, horns and armor was a man of worth? A man of honor? A man who could keep his vows to his wife.

Yorman husbands and wives of noble birth rarely remained faithful. Love matches between patrician families were ridiculed. But Julia hadn’t wanted to live that way. She suspected marriage to this Vandal was the only way she’d ever get what she’d always wanted, a committed marriage based on love and respect.

Was that so wrong?

She glanced at him and smiled as she touched the bite mark on her neck. It had healed quickly and now only felt tender to the touch, but it had left a large, red welt in a series of puncture wounds.

Alaric stared too, with a possessive gaze, at the mark he’d left on her neck.

She stood and walked toward him. His claw wrapped gently around her hand. She looked into his warm eyes. What if he kept his vow? What if having a Vandal as a mate was her getting the “marriage” she’d wanted all along? What if he

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