Stroke of Midnight: A Midnight Breed Novella (The Midnight Breed Series)
Page 3
now and go back to my work with
the Order.”
“Ohh, no.” He vigorously
shook his head. “Even if I wanted to
—which I don’t—without another
mated couple occurring naturally
between our families, the pact calls
for the eldest son of the eldest male
of our line. That means you.
Besides, there are worse fates.
Seraphina Sanhaja is a gorgeous
woman.”
Seraphina. It was the first time
he’d heard the name of his intended.
A silken, exotic name. Just the
sound of it made Jehan’s blood
course a bit hotter in his veins. He
dismissed the sensation with a
sharp sigh as he stared at his
brother. He couldn’t deny that a part
of him was intrigued to know more.
“You’ve seen her?”
Marcel nodded. “She and her
sister, Leila, are both stunning.”
Not surprising, considering
they were Breedmates. Although
they didn’t have the vampiric traits
of Jehan’s kind, the half-human,
half-Atlantean
females
called
Breedmates were flawless beauties
without exception. His Paris-born
mother was testament to that. As
was Lazaro Archer’s flame-haired
Breedmate back in Rome, Melena.
“So, what’s wrong with her,
then?” Jehan murmured. “Let me
guess. She’s a miserable, bickering
shrew? Or is it worse, a meek little
mouse who’s afraid of her own
shadow?”
“She’s
neither.”
Marcel
grinned
as
he
eased
the
Lamborghini through the opened
gates. “She’s lovely, Jehan. You’ll
see for yourself soon enough.”
“Not if I have anything to say
about that.” Crossing his arms, he
sat back in the buttery soft leather
seat. “I have a return flight to Rome
tomorrow. I figure that gives me
plenty of time to convey my regrets
to our parents and get the hell out of
here.”
“You can’t do that. Everything
is already in motion. I told you,
arrangements were made right after
you called.”
Jehan cursed under his breath.
“If I’d realized our parents would
charge forward without asking me, I
could’ve saved everyone the effort.
I should’ve told them over the
phone that I wasn’t interested in any
of this and stayed put in Rome.
Unfortunately, it’s too late for that
now. Whatever arrangements have
been made will need to be
canceled.”
“I don’t think you understand,
brother.” Marcel slowed the car as
they rolled onto the half-moon drive
of the Darkhaven’s impressive
arched entrance. “The handfast
begins tomorrow. Which means the
families assemble for the official
meet-and-greet tonight. There will
be formal introductions, followed
by the traditional garden walk at
midnight, and the turning of the
hourglass to mark the celebratory
commencement and the start of the
handfast period.”
Jehan’s unfamiliarity with the
process must have been as apparent
as his disinterest. Marcel frowned
at him. “You don’t have any idea
what I’m talking about, do you? For
fuck’s sake, the pact’s been in place
for centuries, but you never took the
time to study the terms?”
“I’ve been busy.”
Marcel’s lips quirked at the
droll reply, but it was clear that he
took the pact seriously. Apparently
everyone did, aside from Jehan.
For an instant, he felt a pang of
loss for his absence all these years.
It had been his choice to leave, his
choice to make his own way in the
world instead of being satisfied
with the privileged, if stifling, one
he’d been handed at birth. He’d
yearned more for adventure than
tradition, and supposed he always
would.
“So, this handfast entails what,
exactly?”
“A period of eight nights, spent
together in seclusion. No visitors,
no communication with the outside
world in any form. Just the two of
you, alone at the oasis retreat on the
border of our lands and the
Sanhajas’.”
“In other words, imprisonment
for a week and a day with a female
who may or may not be a willing
party to this whole forced seduction
ritual. Followed by what—a public
blood bond encouraged at sword
point?”
“Forced seduction? Public
blood bond?” Marcel gaped at him
as if he’d lost his mind. “The
handfast is all about consent, Jehan.
Touch Seraphina against her wishes
and her family has the right to take
your head. Drink her blood without
her permission and no one would
balk if the Sanhajas took out their
revenge on the entire Mafakhir
tribe. This is serious shit.”
Not to mention, archaic. Even
though he had no plans to touch
Seraphina Sanhaja or any other
female who wasn’t of his own
choosing, Jehan’s curiosity was
piqued. “I thought the whole point
of the pact was to seal the peace
between our two families with a
blood bond.”
“It is,” Marcel said. “But only
if the handfast is successful.”
“Meaning?”
“There has to be a mutual
agreement. There has to be love. If
there’s no desire to bond as a mated
couple at the end of the handfast, the
couple is free to go their separate
ways and the pact then moves on to
the next pair in line.”
“So, there’s an out clause?”
Jehan’s brows rose in surprise.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all
night.”
His
brother
released
a
frustrated-sounding breath. “I don’t
know why I’m bothering to explain
any of this to you. The terms will be
spelled out in detail at the ceremony
tomorrow night.”
The ceremony Jehan had no
intention of attending.
Marcel parked in front of the
opulent estate and killed the engine.
The Aventador’s scissor doors
lifted upward and the two Breed
males climbed out.
As they began to ascend the
wide, polished stone steps leading
to the Darkhaven’s entrance, Jehan
asked, “Who’s the nex
t pair in line
after Seraphina and me?”
“That would be the Breedmate
next nearest the age of thirty in the
Sanhaja family, and the unmated
eldest son of the second-eldest
Breed male in our line. You
remember our cousin, Fariq.”
Jehan
mentally
recoiled.
“Fariq, who prided himself on his
collection of dead insects and
snakes as a boy?”
Marcel chuckled. “He’s not
nicknamed Renfield for nothing.”
And Jehan couldn’t help but
feel guilty that his refusal of the
pact would mean some unfortunate
Breedmate would eventually have
to spend eight nights alone with the
repulsive male.
But he didn’t feel guilty
enough to let the farce continue. He
had to halt the whole thing before it
went any further.
“Father’s waiting for you in
his study,” Marcel told him as they
reached the top. “Everyone else is
in the main salon, where the formal
introductions will be made.”
Alarm shot through him at that
last announcement. Jehan grabbed
his
brother’s
muscled
arm.
“Everyone else?”
“Mother and the Sanhajas. And
Seraphina, of course.”
Ah, fuck. If he thought this was
bad enough before he stepped off
the plane tonight, the situation had
just nose-dived into a disaster zone.
“They’re here right now? All of
them?”
“That’s what I’ve been telling
you. Everything is already in motion
and ready to begin. We were only
waiting for you to arrive, brother.”
CHAPTER 3
The sound of deep male voices
carried from the foyer. Until that
moment, the small gathering inside
the Darkhaven’s elegant salon had
been engaged in pleasant chatter
about the weather and a dozen other
light subjects. But at the low rumble
of muffled conversation somewhere
outside the gilded walls, a palpable
spike of anticipation pierced the
atmosphere in the room.
“Ah, my sons have finally
arrived.” Beautiful and poised,
Simone Mafakhir smiled from her
seat on a silk divan, her sky blue
eyes lit with excitement. “I know
Jehan will be delighted to meet you,
Seraphina.”
Sera’s mouth was suddenly too
dry to speak, but she gave a polite
nod and returned the brunette
Breedmate’s warm smile.
“Seraphina’s talked of little
else all day,” her mother said,
giving Sera’s hand a pat from her
seat beside her on a velvet sofa
opposite Simone. “She’s been full
of curiosity about Jehan ever since
she
arrived
back
home
this
morning.”
On the other side of Sera, her
blonde, twenty-two-year-old sister,
Leila, barely stifled a giggle.
It was true. Sera had been full
of questions since she’d been called
home by her parents. She still didn’t
know much about Jehan, other than
the fact that he’d flown in tonight
from Rome, where he’d been living
for many years. And that he’d come
because he had been summoned to
fulfill his role in the ancient
handfasting pact that had existed
between their families for half a
dozen centuries.
The same as she had.
That is, if she managed to
make it through the evening without
bolting for the nearest escape.
She pressed the back of her
hand to her forehead, which had
gone suddenly clammy. Her heart
was racing, and her lungs felt as if
they were suddenly caught in a vise.
She stood up, not quite steady
on the high heels she wasn’t
accustomed
to
wearing.
The
flouncy, blush-pink dress she’d
borrowed from Leila on her sister’s
insistence swayed around her knees
as she wobbled, lightheaded and
fighting the wave of nausea that
rose up on her.
“Would it be possible to,
um...freshen up for a moment?”
“Yes, of course,” Simone
replied. “There’s a powder room
just down the hall.”
Her parents both looked at her
in genuine concern. “Are you all
right, darling?” her mother asked.
“Yes.” Sera gave them a weak
nod that only made her wooziness
worse. “I’m fine, really.”
She just needed to get the hell
out of there before she passed out
or threw up.
Leila stood and grabbed her
elbow. “I’ll go with you.”
They hurried out of the room
together, Sera practically leaving
her sister in her wake. Once safely
enclosed in the large powder room,
Sera sagged against the back of the
door.
“What on earth is wrong with
you?” Leila whispered.
Sera
swallowed
back
a
building scream. “I can’t do this. I
thought maybe I could—for our
parents, since it’s obviously so
important to them—but I can’t. I
mean, this whole situation...the
pact, the handfasting? It’s insane,
right? I never should have agreed to
any of this.”
It was all happening too
quickly. Yesterday morning, an e-
mail from her parents had reached
her at the remote outpost where
she’d been working. The message
had been short and cryptic, telling
her that she was needed at home
immediately.
Terrified with concern, she’d
dropped everything and raced back
—only to learn that the emergency
requiring her presence was a musty
old agreement that would send her
away with a complete stranger. A
Breed
male
who
may
not
understand or care that her carotid
wasn’t up for grabs, regardless of
what the pact between their families
might imply.
Oh, God. Her stomach started
to spin again. She pressed her hand
to her abdomen and took a
steadying breath.
She
paced
the
cramped
powder room, her voice beginning
to rise. “I need to get out of here. I
can’t do this, Leila. I must’ve been
out of my mind for even considering
coming here tonight.”
> Her sister stared at her
patiently, her soft green eyes
sympathetic as she let Sera vent.
“You’re just nervous. I would be
too. But I don’t think you’re crazy
for being here. And I don’t think the
agreement between our families is
insane, either.” She swept a blonde
tendril behind her ear and shrugged.
“It’s endured all these years for a
reason. Actually, I think it’s kind of
romantic.”
“Romantic?” Sera scoffed.
“What’s romantic about a truce
struck after years of bloodshed
resulting from the kidnap of a virgin
Breedmate from our tribe by a
barbarian Breed male from theirs
six-hundred years ago?”
Leila let out a sigh. “Things
were different back then. And it’s
romantic because they fell in love.”
Sera arched her brows in
challenge. “Tragic, because despite
their blood bond, they both died in
the end and set off a long, violent
war.”
Sera knew the whole, tragic
story as well as her sister did. It
was practically legend in the
Sanhaja family. And if she was
being honest, there was a part of her
that ached for that long-dead couple
and their doomed love.
But it didn’t change the fact
that centuries later, here she was,
standing in a locked bathroom in a
borrowed dress and high-heeled
sandals, while just down the hall, a
Breed male she’d never even met
before was expecting her to go
away with him for eight long nights
—all in their parents’ shared hopes
that they might come back madly in
love and bound by blood for
eternity.
Ridiculous.
Sera shook her head. “It
might’ve been true centuries ago
that the best way to guarantee peace
was to turn an enemy into family,”
she conceded. “But that was then
and this is now. There hasn’t been
conflict between the Mafakhirs and
our family for decades.”
Leila tilted her head. “And
how do you know that’s not because
the pact was in place all that time?
Since it first began, there’s never
been a time when there wasn’t at
least one mated pair between our
families. Until now. What if the pact
really is the only thing keeping the
peace? It’s never been broken or
tested, Sera. Do you really want to
be the first one to try?”
For a moment, hearing her
sister’s emphatic reply, Seraphina
almost bought into the whole myth.
At twenty-seven, she was a
practical, independent woman who
knew her own mind as well as her
own worth, but there was a small