"I've enjoyed this author's sexy shifter stories before and this one is no exception. I like the purely erotic nature of the stories and the characters' unique paranormal abilities keep the sex scenes interesting... a good short story for any reader looking for an erotic half-hour read."
"In the fourth book of the Wolfsblood series, Marteeka Karland takes the reader on a wild ride... the true nature of the Savage Wolf which includes a strong sexual element that is exciting to read."
"Amazing short story for an erotic half hour read. I like [the] erotic nature of the stories and the characters’ unique paranormal abilities that keep the sex scenes interesting."
-- Zara, You Gotta Read Reviews
Wolfsblood: Savage Wolf
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Marteeka Karland
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It was past time for Lyndal to move on. With the added protection of Leiah's mate, Rikker, this colony of Wolfsblood no longer needed him. Besides, Lyndal was edgy. He'd been domesticated far too long. The more annoying members of the pack were starting to chip away at the wall that so precariously contained his true nature. Lyndal needed to hunt.
He did the best he could, killing the more vicious predators before they got near the colony, but it wasn't enough. He needed something to dispel the savage need in him. He'd briefly considered seducing Leiah, using her to sate some of the dangerous lust churning inside his gut. Even though she was every bit the alpha type he needed, she just didn't have the dark need for violence boiling inside her. He'd have used her up, consumed her until she withered and died, and Lyndal would never have been able to stop himself. His soul was already damned without something like that staining him. Then Rikker had come along and claimed her, and Lyndal knew she'd be safe. It was a horrible thing to know your friends weren't safe from you, no matter how much you loved them.
Looking around the bar owned by the hybrid, Shiffley, Lyndal snarled. The idea of taking one of the many willing Vampire women prostituting themselves for blood didn't appeal. They always insisted on payment in blood.
Blood was power. It tied every living thing together, was the very essence of life. Once consumed, it formed an unbreakable bond between donor and host, to the point one could control the other if one knew how to find and use the thread that bound them together.
Even though the ability to use blood bonds was a dormant trait in most Vampires' lines, Lyndal knew it wasn't always the case. He was a hybrid, and he could use the ties that taking blood created to find anyone he'd taken blood from. He could also enter that person's mind at will. Control them if they weren't strong enough mentally to resist his compulsion. Blood was power as well as life.
Lyndal wanted a fight. He was edgy, restless, the need for violence shimmering closer to the surface than ever before. He'd chosen this bar because he knew, should he lose the fight inside himself to stop short of killing someone who didn't deserve it, Shiffley could -- and would -- stop him. It was past time he left this place for the more desolate parts of the world. He needed to go places where he could hunt... and kill.
"You look as if you need blood." Shiffley sided up to him, speaking to Lyndal but not looking at him. As always, the Vampire/Lionsblood kept close watch on his bar.
"What I need can't be provided willingly." Lyndal answered as honestly as he could.
"The blood lust is riding you hard, then."
"It is more than that, Shiff. There is something violent and... savage... inside me. Rough, dominant sex might help, but I believe I've waited too long this time. I might kill." He sounded weary even to himself. Still, he needed to give Shiffley the straight of it. Lyndal couldn't say it out loud, but there was something inside him he couldn't control.
"There are many predators hunting the various unprotected packs and colonies. You should have plenty of opportunities."
"It isn't enough. And if I unleash the bloodbath I'm craving, you and the other Lionsblood will be forced to hunt me. In that situation, I'm not certain you could win." Shiffley glanced at him then. "The Vampire is that strong, then?"
"No," Lyndal replied, his eyes meeting Shiffley's. "The wolf is. Always, it is the wolf."
With dawning comprehension, Shiffley's eyes widened the slightest bit, the most emotion Lyndal had ever seen from the other man.
The name shimmered between them, a warning. A portent of danger.