Through My Heart: Romantic Moments, #3

By Kate Hill

Adrian – I am a vampire whose physical ugliness intensified with my immortality. For centuries I hunted alone, disguising myself from prey, preferring illusions to brutal attacks. Others of my kind spurned me. Some tried to destroy me, and on them I unleashed my wrath. I suffered the agony of eternal loneliness, and then I met Anna.

Anna – My life was almost unbearable until a tall, black-haired stranger with fiery eyes and needle sharp teeth drank my blood and swept me into an unimaginable world. From the night we met, I gave Adrian my heart, but a lie spun by an enemy drove us apart. I swore I would never give him the chance to hurt me again, but denying my love for him was harder than I thought.

Note: Through My Heart is a very short romantic horror story featuring vampiric love. It has a spicy heat level, violence, and a HEA. This Romantic Moments story is the perfect length for a lunch break, before bed, or any time you want a quick, romantic read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Hill
• Release date: Jul 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224280698

Kate Hill

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who started writing many years ago for pleasure. When she's not writing, she enjoys reading, watching horror and action movies, working out, and spending time with her family and pets. She also writes under the name Saloni Quinby.

Book preview

Part 1

Prelude to a Disaster

Adrian

I found her on the streets of Pompeii just days before the fateful eruption of Vesuvius. Many centuries earlier, I had been thrust into the life of a blood drinker, changed on the field of battle.

To this day, I don't know why the blood drinker changed me. Beauty is prized among our kind, and I was known as the Brutal Beast—a warrior with the strength of a dragon and the face of one.

I suppose it doesn't matter why. It might have been a gift, or a curse, or perhaps it was just her sense of humor. I can still feel her teeth tearing into my neck. I can taste her blood, as sweet and thick as wine.

I digress. Where was I?

Ah, yes, Pompeii. I had arrived on my merchant ship from Constanta, and while my servants unloaded cargo, I sought nourishment in the brothels that were plentiful in the city. Even then, I caught the scent of death emanating from the distant mountain. I had planned to stay for a while, but just one night might be too long. Still, I needed to drink before moving on.

A delicious scent teased my nose. It was musky, sweet, and sad. The aroma of despair. My gaze riveted to a beautiful woman—hair as black as my own, dark eyes with flecks of gold that my keen vision detected even from across the street. She was slim and her skin kissed golden by the sun. Despite the warmth of the air, she shivered and rubbed her bare arms that were imprinted with bruises from an earlier customer.

I approached, still wearing a hood—blood drinkers are rarely affected by warmth or cold, unless it's extreme. The hood, combined with my powers of the mind, would create the illusion of handsome looks. I didn't spin the dream quite yet, though. Sometimes, I indulged in the self-torture of seeing how they reacted to me.

She glanced at me when I paused beside her, so close that my shadow darkened her face.

Welcome. Would you like to come inside? she asked in a soft monotone. Her voice, like her scent, emanated despair. She didn't even look surprised by my appearance.

Very much.

With a sigh, she turned and led me past a tattered curtain, into the small, candlelit room where she lived and entertained customers.

She gestured toward the stone bed.

I remained standing and said, We should talk first.

Now she raised an arched black eyebrow. About what?

I pulled down my hood, completely exposing my pale, bony face that was covered in scars, most from my mortal life, but some sustained after my change, during fights with other blood drinkers, ones who couldn't keep their mouths shut and their weapons to themselves. My eyes, deep-set and black as midnight pools, intimidated just about everyone who dared lock gazes with me.

She swallowed visibly and audibly, but didn't look away.

Will you still take me to your bed, my lovely?

It's what I do.

I smiled, exposing my fangs.

She gasped at the sight of them, but didn't scream or flee.

It's what you do, my lovely, but will you enjoy it?

I never enjoy it. She shed her clothes, baring her silken flesh and her round, rose-tipped breasts. I longed to suckle from those breasts, taste her precious blood, and tickle her smooth, gently rounded belly with my claws.

She must have seen the desire in my eyes, or maybe not. No doubt she was cold to lust, even love. She was accustomed to