Disclaimer: This excerpt is shared in a spirit of fun. It is an unedited work in progress. It may change or even be removed by the final draft. Here, Sarita meets the Ahne, the leader of First Blood.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” The other woman’s face showed an open concern.
Sarita clenched and unclenched her fist. Blood drinker. The wound on her finger had already healed, but there was dry blood on it. Surely this thing could smell it.
“Tsk.” Let me see. The Ahne picked up her hand, stroking it in something like a caress, causing Sarita’s fingers to spasm suddenly. “You heal quickly.” She observed, sniffing, but not breaking her gaze. She brought Sarita’s hand to her lips and a cold tongue flickered across the healed pin prick. Sarita was overwhelmed, unable to move as those green eyes held her spellbound. There was power in this woman, like nothing she’d ever felt, not even from her uncle. “I won’t hurt you, little wolf.” A feral smile crossed the Ahne’s face just a second before her eyes rolled and closed in pleasure. “You are a sweet little thing. We could be friends, yes?”
Sarita’s heart stuttered it’s yearning as she felt her lips tilting up in a smile. Friends. Yes, she wanted that. This cold, beautiful woman made her crave a closeness, made her want to touch that icy skin, have those glittering teeth graze her neck. Unconsciously, she moved closer, reaching.
“Get the hell away from her!” Mac’s voice shattered the moment. Sarita gasped, pulling away from the smiling Ahne. She immediately looked away as she scrambled back, not wanting to meet this creature’s eyes again. Instead, she looked up at Mac, her terror easing as she saw his teeth and claws out to defend her.
“I don’t know how you got in here, but you aren’t welcome. You have no `friends’ here.” Mac spat the word with derision. “Get the hell out of here. If I see you near her again, I’ll…”
“You’ll what, pup?” The Ahne moved toward him, trying to capture his eyes with her own. Refusing to meet her gaze, he bared his teeth, the threat clear. The Ahne’s laugh grated against Sarita’s senses.
“Oh yes, you are an alpha wolf, sure. But I am Krönen. I am Ahne. You cannot fight me.” So quickly, even their wolf senses couldn’t follow, her hand reached out and slashed across Mac’s face. Before he could react, her finger was in her mouth, his blood on her tongue.
She spat, a look of derision crossing her features.
“No. You cannot fight me.”
And then she was walking out the door, into the afternoon sunshine, her icy scent, a trail of blood on Mac’s cheek, and the chill in their bones the only reminder she had been there at all.