As a familiar, Blyss stays away from witches and warlocks as a rule, lest one take her against her will. But when she’s dared to sneak into the house at the end of the block, she gets more than she bargained for. Rilyn, the sexy as hell and ultra powerful warlock is about to claim his mate and tie her to him. The binding will be unbreakable, the magic unstoppable. By the dark of the new moon, he will take the lovely Blyss to paradise with a little...
Dark Moon Magic.
The creepy house down the street had been occupied for nearly a month and, spurred by the daring taunts of the other den members, here she was. Doing a little spying. Blyss never would have taken the dare if she hadn’t been so damned inquisitive. And more than a little drunk.
Currently, no witch mastered her, or any of her den brothers and sisters. She was free to roam the land at will. To keep herself hidden, she hadn't used her cat form in more years than she cared to count. If she did, once shifted, any witch within a hundred miles would feel her presence and she’d be that much closer to being a witch’s magical slave.
Yes. Blyss was truly was out of her mind.
Waiting until she was behind a huge tree in the front yard, she shifted, scampered up the tree to the roof of the house, and peeked into the skylight where the faint golden glow of light spilled. The only light on in the house. If there was anyone home, she should have been able to see them there. Hopefully, she wouldn't be noticed. If she was, she’d shit on the doorstep and they'd think it was a Hell Night trick.
The first part of the plan went exactly as she’d hoped. Peeking in to see the occupant, however, was where things went a bit...off.
In a flash of magic, the glass disappeared and a large hand snatched Blyss by her nape. She dug in her claws, raking over flesh, hissing and spitting like mad.
"Shhhh, little pet. Be still."
The voice was deep and very masculine, with just a hint of cruelty to it. Blyss knew in that instant she was caught, her freedom over. She tried to resist, but that voice wrapped around her mind and body, subduing her like nothing ever had. Blyss trembled in his grasp as he pulled her closer.
"Shift, Blyss," he commanded softly, that voice like a dark magic spell washing over her like velvet. He knew her name. With that revelation, her heart sank. She heard it pounding hard in her ears, felt the fast-rising panic in her throat. Even her last master hadn't known her real name, but this man did. And he was no ordinary witch, either. Only other familiars knew each other’s true names, a trust that was never broken. To do so was considered the highest treason among their kind.
There was no resisting his command. Blyss’s body shifted without her command and she stood before him. Nude. By calling her name, he could command her at will. She was truly his slave if he wanted it. Normally, she was no self-conscious creature, but this man's scrutiny went soul deep. As if he were weighing her worthiness.
"Exquisite. The king was correct. You will make an extraordinary partner." Blyss wanted to speak, but knew he wasn’t finished and dreaded his next words. She knew in her heart—her very bones—what they would be. "You'll make an even better mate."