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The Blood King
The Blood King
The Blood King
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The Blood King

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Werewolf Jade fights a duel to win the throne of the Golden Clan, and claim Tristan as his mate – but loses when a spell prevents him from shifting, making him slave to the new King.

Tristan could never hope to challenge the new King and win – but he will go to any length to save Jade, even the illegal use of magic.

Sorrel, under a spell like Jade's, is on the run from his Clan. Together the three werewolves must decipher the clues, undo the spells, and explore their desires, or else their world will fall apart.

M/M/M paranormal romance with shifters and vampires. A Novella.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJay Di Meo
Release dateDec 9, 2018
ISBN9781386233176
The Blood King

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    Book preview

    The Blood King - Jay Di Meo

    The Blood King

    By Jay Di Meo

    Werewolf Jade fights a duel to win the throne of the Golden Clan, and claim Tristan as his mate – but loses when a spell prevents him from shifting, making him slave to the new King.

    Tristan could never hope to challenge the new King and win – but he will go to any length to save Jade, even the illegal use of magic.

    Sorrel, under a spell like Jade’s, is on the run from his Clan. Together the three werewolves must decipher the clues, undo the spells, and explore their desires, or else their world will fall apart.

    The Blood King © Copyright 2012 by Jay Di Meo

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

    The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

    Cover design by Jay Di Meo

    Book previously published with Cobblestone Press

    The Blood King

    Tristan jumped off the steam carriage into the low-curling mist, his long trench coat flapping. The city slept: crumbling houses, empty plots, black gaps in the night.

    Ever since the virulent shifters’ plague that turned most humans into were-animals, the devastating war that followed and the collapse of the known world, the werewolves reigned. Lycanthropy proved the best form of shifting, the mutation adapting fast enough to prevent collapse of the human body.

    Tristan sniffed the air and scowled. Fuck. You were right, Jade. I can smell him, too. The scent twisted in the air like a snake, a scent that shouldn’t be there at all. Silver Wolf Clan. In his territory. Tristan tried to hide the unease in his voice, though both he and Jade knew well this could mean war. The trail’s cold. Whoever passed through here has moved on by now.

    Yet the scent tickled his nose and reached deep into his body, caressing it. He shivered. A strong one. Could Marcel have been right about this, or was he only trying to impress? Vampires did have a penchant for the dramatic.

    White smoke puffed from a chimney into the cloudy sky. A horse whinnied, and a dog barked. New Albion slept under the rule of the werewolves and the waxing moon.

    We’ll find him again, Jade said from inside the carriage. He can’t have gone far. Come back in and finish what you started. A low, very masculine chuckle. My King.

    Tristan growled deep in his throat. A challenge. Jade always pulled his strings. He’d show his second in command what it meant to be the king of the Golden Wolf Clan, the strongest in the country. You think you’re ready for me?

    Throwing a last glance to the empty street ahead, sniffing the air to make sure the owner of the smell hadn’t returned, he motioned at the driver and stepped back into the carriage, closing the steel door behind him with a clang. He stood, his head nearly touching the ceiling. Where were we?

    Then the carriage lurched forward on the cobbled street and he grabbed a handle for support, taking in the other man.

    Jade lay on his back, long silver hair spilling on the red velvet couch, both hands between his strong legs, stroking himself. The werewolf had wider shoulders than Tristan, and his thighs bulged with muscles. His cock... Oh gods. Tristan bit back a moan. He swallowed past a dry throat when his hard-on returned with such force it took his breath away.

    I remember now. His voice had gone hoarse, and he swallowed again. Oh yeah.

    Jade’s eyes, amber green, locked with his; then his gaze fell away. Sweat rolled down his hard chest in tiny, gleaming rivulets that outlined every plane and ridge. Jade’s strong hands worked his cock and balls slow and steady, all for Tristan’s benefit.

    Jade’s labored breathing echoed in the carriage, steamed the glass windows. The muscles in those thighs trembled. But Jade didn’t say anything, didn’t ask Tristan to join him, or help him.

    Then again, he never did. Maybe he never would.

    Tristan’s control was slipping away, chipped by every moan and movement Jade made. He wanted Jade to beg him to fuck him. But Jade wouldn’t do that; it was even less likely after what Aric had done to the silver-haired werewolf two weeks back. Jade, stop.

    Jade groaned, moved his hand up to the tip of his hard cock and then back down. Pearly pre-cum crowned his erection. Fuck, I’m so close...

    The fiorum, the royal seal, flared inside Tristan, and he was no longer sure he could prevent himself from trying to penetrate Jade. And if he did penetrate him, he wouldn’t be able to mark him. That would be even worse than not trying. I said, stop!

    Jade stilled. His hands moved away from his groin. Eyes wide, the pupils dilated, he stared at Tristan. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his erection trembled over his flat stomach.

    Tristan’s cock throbbed in time with his heart. It was a rush to know the other man would obey him, a man so powerful. A man stronger than he was, under normal circumstances.

    But this was not the time to think about this. The sight of Jade splayed before him sent his pulse racing. Undress me.

    Jade rose to his feet with easy grace to face Tristan. He sniffed him, rubbed his face on Tristan’s neck, kissed him behind the ear, as if marking himself with Tristan’s scent.

    Because Tristan hadn’t marked him. Couldn’t mark him. Because his fiorum refused to blossom.

    Don’t think about that now. A deep growl rumbled in Tristan’s chest. You’re mine, Jade.

    Jade’s pale, silky tresses tickled his face as the man pulled back and drew Tristan’s coat open, drew it off Tristan and let it fall to the floor. I belong only to myself.

    Always the same answer. Tristan’s blood boiled. No matter what had happened, Tristan was the king now, and with the naming, the urge was there, in his gut, with the seed of the royal seal. "Mine."

    He threw Jade back down onto the couch and, as the carriage took a sharp turn, fell on top of him, on all that firm, muscled flesh.

    Which suited him just fine.

    If you don’t mark me, you can’t claim me as yours, Jade said with a hint of a snarl on his face.

    You want me to fuck you? Tristan growled. Beg me and I will.

    Jade struggled against him, muscles bunching in his arms, his eyes blazing. Dammit, marking a Mate isn’t just fucking. You can’t put me on a leash—

    A leash. Tristan rose on his knees and wrapped his fingers around Jade’s cock. Jade’s body arched below him. You on a leash. Don’t give me ideas, Jade. I wouldn’t mind trying that. Shackle you to the bed, yeah, that might do it. Show you who the king is.

    "I could challenge you, and I may beat you and—ah."

    Tristan moaned, echoing Jade’s groan. He stroked Jade’s erection, made the other man shake. You would. His own cock twitched. You’re almost healed now.

    Jade tensed underneath him, and Tristan swore in his head. Bad timing. He shouldn’t have reminded Jade of his duel with Aric and its bad outcome. He had to distract Jade or this would end before it really started. One handed, he undid the buttons of his fly, freeing his straining cock with a grunt. Biting his lip to keep from moaning out loud, he gripped his erection.

    So close to coming. Only Jade could do this, bring him to the brink of orgasm without even touching him.

    Tristan spread his knees wider on the couch to keep his balance.

    Jade’s green eyes fixed on his. Do you think... Maybe this unexpected visit from the Silvers has something to do with Aric’s...

    Damn it. Seemed like he hadn’t distracted Jade enough. Tristan molded his body against the other man’s, placing a hand next to the pale blond head. His erection rubbed against Jade’s, and he kissed him into silence.

    By my teeth, he tastes good.

    He thrust his tongue into Jade’s mouth, wanting more. Honey and cinnamon and something bitter made him moan and kiss him harder. Jade’s hands grabbed Tristan’s hips, then wormed their way between their bodies, found Tristan’s cock and squeezed.

    Tristan cried out, pulled back for breath. Now who’s distracted? Jade...

    Jade’s hands kneaded Tristan’s cock in sure strokes. Jade never begged to be fucked, but he hadn’t asked to top Tristan, either. Tristan sometimes wondered if Jade knew more about Tristan’s past than he let on, or if he just didn’t want Tristan enough.

    Then Jade’s hand clenched around him, and thinking became impossible as Tristan drowned in pleasure. He rocked into that tightness, his hair sticking to his face and back with sweat, the world dimming and flashing with colors as his balls drew closer to his body and his pulse rose to his mouth.

    As the first spasms of orgasm started in his belly, a startling, cold touch inside his chest made him yell. But if anything, it made him come even harder, howling and slamming time and again in Jade’s grip, until his vision went black.

    ***

    Tristan, damn it! Jade fought to breathe as his king’s full weight crushed him, his cock still spasming

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