When desire battles with the forbidden and passion overrules obligation, at the end of the night, which will win?
Victoria Bonvalet, a purebred werewolf, has no desire to mate to an alpha not of her choosing and after a one of a kind encounter with the mysterious blood lord Tristan Garland rattles her existence, she knows that she could never share any part of herself without love being the number one incentive.
Tristan, a vampire of over a thousand years, no longer cares much for the world or the creatures inhabiting it. But when he meets the beautiful she-wolf invading his deep woods territory, he realizes that it’s never too late to find your perfect match, even if she belongs to the opposite branch of all mythological beings. But even as they begin to explore their in-depth feelings for each other, can they find a way to be together without starting a war between two enemy species?
His inhuman eyes assessed her in much the same manner she did him. Victoria watched as the breeze toyed with his hair, bringing a few stray locks to caress his right cheek. Werewolves tended to have unique features but this being was unique even for her. His white hair, pale skin, and clear eyes made him look like a marble statue. Had it not been for the few strands of hair being tossed around his shoulders by the light breeze, she could have easily mistaken him for one.
“Who are you?” She managed to ask at last. “What are you?”
His eyes narrowed as she spoke but he said nothing.
“What do you want?” She asked angrily when she noted he refused to answer.
The man took several steps towards her then stopped. He cocked his head to one side as if he was having trouble hearing her. Victoria did not flinch or move as he approached. There was no need for her to back away like a frightened kitten. She refused to show any form of fear. Not that she feared him; she was more intrigued than anything else.
“I was once known as Tristan Garland,” His voice startled her; it sounded so deep and gruff that she couldn’t help but think that perhaps he used it very little.
“Why are you following me?” She dared to ask.
The being now known as Tristan eyed her with curiosity.
“I do not follow you.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “You invade and hunt in my territory.” He stated simply. She couldn’t tell whether he was angry or not. His passive face revealed nothing of what he was thinking. “You are the one trespassing, not I.”