Forged in Blood: A Dark Paranormal/ Fantasy romance (Broken Bloodlines Book 1)

With a deep breath, I run my hands over the pleats of my skirt and check out my outfit in the mirror. Not that I need to, it’s the same thing I always wear. Plaid miniskirt, check; white tank, check; black lace-up boots, check; hooded sweatshirt tied around my waist in the event it gets a little chilly, check. It’s like my uniform. No, my armor. My fuck you to the world. There’s comfort in the familiar, particularly when everything else around you is in a constant state of flux.

I give myself a reassuring smile and grab my backpack, ignoring the kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Partly from excitement, partly from nerves. Tonight I’m going to my first football game. Go Dragons …

I take my seat in the second to last row of the student section. I’ve watched enough football on TV to know that the rules of seating do not apply to sports the way they do in the classroom. Here, the back rows aren’t for the cool kids.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

The stands around me are mostly empty, probably because the Montridge Dragons football team is notoriously terrible, despite their awesome name. Apparently they only scored two touchdowns all last season.

Whatever the reason, it suits me fine because there are at least half a dozen empty seats on either side of me and I’m sitting close enough to the end of the row that I can leave whenever I want without any fuss. Not that I mind people, but there’s something about being surrounded by groups and couples that makes my solitude feel all the more acute.

The team takes the field, and cheers erupt from the meager crowd. I smile, glad that they’re not being booed. It must take a lot of guts to put yourself out there every week the way that they do.

“Is this seat taken?”

I tear my eyes from the field and look up at the source of the deep voice. He’s half-smiling. He looks almost … hopeful. I glance around. There are plenty of empty seats. Why does he want the one next to me?

“You’re here on your own too, right?” he adds with a self-deprecating laugh. “I find it’s always more fun to watch the game with someone. If you don’t mind?” He indicates the seat beside me, his deep-brown eyes crinkling at the corners when his smile widens.

I nod. “Sure.” Really? One word. One syllable. Is that all you have, Ophelia? I would face-palm myself if he wasn’t staring at me.

Why is he staring at me?

He narrows his eyes. “I think I’ve seen you in the dining hall. You’re in Vasilakis Hall, near the library, yeah?”

Why does he know what dorm I live in? Suspicion makes me edgy, but his vibe is so warm and friendly. He wipes his hands on his torn jeans, flicks his dark hair out of his eyes, and laughs again. “That must make me sound like a creep, huh?”

I don’t answer.

His Adam’s apple, covered by a thick coating of dark stubble, bobs. “I’m not a stalker, I swear. I’m in Galanis.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right next to my building.”

He blows out a breath and blinks. “Yeah, see, not a stalker.”

Am I making him nervous? “Or a creep,” I add, before a smile spreads over my face.

“Glad we got that ironed out.” He settles back in his seat and directs his attention to the field. “They have a new quarterback this year. Caleb Lambert. He’s supposed to be good. Scored four touchdowns in the winning game against the Tigers last year.”

I don’t really know much about football, not high school or college, or even the NFL, but I hum like I’m impressed.

“Fuck knows why he agreed to come to Montridge and play for the Dragons,” he adds.

“Yeah, I heard they’re not very good,” I admit.

He shoots me a sideways glance. “Not very good would be an understatement. And you are …?”

Before I can give my name, a familiar voice behind us growls, “Move it, dickface.”

My heart jolts like I was hit with an electric current, and I spin around to find Xavier and Axl sitting directly behind us.

My companion turns around too. “I didn’t know you were with them,” he says, a hint of terror in his tone.

I shake my head. “I’m not.”

Xavier punches the back of the guy’s seat. “Did you not fucking hear me?”

The guy jumps up and scrambles away without so much as a “see you later, when you’re not being tortured by two giant assholes.” I scowl at my tormentors, but they don’t look at me. Xavier leans backward, his feet resting on the back of the empty seat beside me. He rests his arm around the back of Axl’s shoulders, and they both stare at the field like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

God, they’re infuriating. “Why the hell did you do that?” I demand.

They ignore me. “You know that new quarterback is an Onyx pledge, right?” Axl says to Xavier.

Assholes! “Why are you sitting here? Go away!” I yell this time.

They go on ignoring me. With an indignant huff, I grab my backpack and stand. If they won’t move, I guess I will. Xavier’s foot darts out, his long leg stretched out to its full length, blocking my path. This is ridiculous. I can’t catch a break. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He finally looks at me, and I almost wish he hadn’t because the danger in the depths of his dark-blue eyes makes my knees wobble. “Sit down, Cupcake,” he orders.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder. “The hell I will.”

Axl twists his neck and glares at me too, flicking his tongue over his sharp fangs. “Sit the fuck down, Ophelia. Now.”

Anger sizzles beneath my skin. A quick glance around informs me that people are already watching this little display of whatever this is. The last thing I want is to draw unnecessary attention to myself. With a huff, I plonk back into my seat and focus on the game. We watch in silence for a few minutes, and I’m actually starting to enjoy myself when the two jackass vampires ruin it once again by opening their fat mouths.

“You fucked that cheerleader, right?” Xavier says.

Axl laughs. “Which one?”

“The perky one with the blond hair and the juicy tits.”

“Dude, half the girls on the fucking squad have blond hair and juicy tits, and they’re all perky. You’ll have to be more specific.”

I roll my eyes and try to tune them out, but my eyes go to the all-girl cheerleading squad on the sidelines. Every one of them impossibly beautiful and toned, they bounce on their toes, pom poms clutched to their chests as they recite simple cheers for the crowd.

“The same one I fucked in the locker room at the end of last season.”

“You fucked them all in the locker room,” comes Axl’s reply, followed by their combined howls of laughter.

They’re even bigger assholes than I thought they were, and that’s saying something.

Axl’s laughter subsides while Xavier goes on snickering. “Do you mean Delilah? The one you, me, and Kai ran a train on?”

“You’re both disgusting,” I spit out the words, and while it’s true that the callous way they speak about women is disgusting, there is something very not disgusting about the images flashing through my mind. Only they’re not of them with Delilah, whoever she is. They’re of the three wicked yet undeniably hot vampires. And me.

Warm breath tickles the nape of my neck, making me shiver. “So why is your heart racing, Pyro? Why is the skin right here …” Axl traces a fingertip down the side of my throat. “As pink as your hair?”

“Because you’re both a pair of animals and I hate you,” I blurt, before I can accidentally say anything remotely close to the truth.

I squeeze my eyes and my thighs closed and try to think of anything but the way Axl’s touch has electricity sizzling under my skin. How Xavier’s possessive growl earlier, while annoying as hell, also made me feel seen, if only for a fraction of a second. I don’t want to see Axl’s sandy-blond hair or Malachi’s sparkling green eyes or Xavier’s dimples. And I definitely do not want to think about their toned abs.

“Which peppy little cheerleader should we fuck tonight?” Xavier’s voice slices through me, and it’s enough to stop all the ridiculous fantasies racing through my mind.

Axl hums like he’s deep in thought. “That one with the curls who keeps jumping up and down like the ground’s on fire. I walked past her earlier. She smelled good.”

Xavier grunts. “What did she smell like?”

“Like apple and cinnamon. Plus, did you see how easily she did a split? I mean, the wider they can spread their legs, buddy …”

They both laugh again, and I look down at the girl I assume they’re talking about. She has a huge smile on her face as she plays to the crowd, trying to get them to cheer for the Dragons, who despite their new quarterback, still manage to put on a terrible performance according to the scoreboard. She doesn’t deserve what Axl and Xavier have in mind. I’d warn her if I thought for a millisecond she’d listen to me.

“Almost halftime. You think we can grab a quick bite before the second half?” Xavier laughs at his own joke.

Why are they here taunting me when they’d so clearly rather be sinking their teeth into a cheerleader? I manage to stifle the sob crawling up my throat, but I’m unable to stop a solitary tear from running down my cheek. Thankful that the two monsters sitting behind me can’t see it, I wipe it away.