Bound in Sin (Bound #3)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Chapter One

Some bodies just wouldn’t stay buried–no matter how much dirt you shoved on top of them. Those bodies…they just kept digging out of their graves.

And chasing a girl until she was so damn tired of running. So tired that she’d consider trading her own soul, just for a few moments of safety.

Paige Sloan stared up at the high stone walls of the werewolf compound. It had been ten years since she’d last been inside of those thick walls. Only she hadn’t been looking for protection back then. She’d been looking for love.

Will he even remember me?

Paige stood there, trembling from the cold–she hated the bone-numbing cold of Alaska–and then she heard footsteps coming her way. Strong. Determined. She sucked in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Showtime. She just had to play this bit right and get past the guards. Paige lifted her arms into the air. “I’m not carrying a weapon!” Better to just go ahead and get that part out early.

Werewolves could be too unpredictable. She didn’t want them attacking first, then trying to get answers from her cold, lifeless body later.

The gate opened with a screech. Two men came rushing out. They weren’t carrying weapons. Then again, they didn’t need to carry extra firepower. If they wanted, she knew those two men could shift into powerful wolves in an instant.

Most humans didn’t realize the truth about the world that surrounded them. Humans thought monsters were make-believe. Just stories to scare children in the darkness of the night.

If only.

Paige knew monsters were real. They were the nightmares that walked the earth.

“Vampire…” One of the men snarled the accusation at her, and just that quickly, his claws burst from his fingertips.

Under the moonlight, she saw his nostrils flare and knew the guy had caught the scent that revealed her for exactly what she was.

A monster. A vampire.

“You want to die, vamp?” The other guard demanded. He was the taller of the two, with close-cropped, dark hair, and huge, hulking shoulders. “Is that why you’re here?”

Well, they weren’t trying to rip her open yet, so that was a good sign. Paige cleared her throat and kept her hands up. “Technically, I’ve already died.” That was how she’d become a vamp and–

The smaller werewolf lunged at her. Smaller, but still wicked strong. He wrapped his claws around her neck and snapped, “You’re about to die again.” His dark eyes promised a world of pain.

She could do without that promise. Been there, done that. Not really interested in that scene again, thanks.

Paige didn’t fight his hold, not yet. If things got desperate, then she’d be the one delivering the pain. But first… “Drake …” She whispered the name that had haunted her memories and a small, icy cloud appeared before her mouth. She ignored the cold and focused on what mattered right then. She needed these wolves…and their new alpha. “Drake Wyler.”

The werewolf holding her leaned in even closer. She could see that his blond hair was long, brushing his shoulders, and his face was all hard angles and lines. “What do you want with the alpha?”

This was the part that would be tricky. Slowly, because she didn’t want to set the guys off, Paige lifted the long necklace that had fallen to rest between her br**sts. She saw the blond werewolf’s eyes widen as he stared at the necklace. Stared at it–then hurriedly jumped the hell away from her.

That was right. No other werewolves were supposed to touch her, not when… “I belong to him,” Paige said simply.

And in an instant, those werewolves started tripping over themselves as they hurried to open the gate for her. Sure, they might hate her kind, but as long as she had their alpha’s protection, they couldn’t touch her.

Well, not if they wanted to keep living.

Paige stared into that wolf compound. Dark. Dangerous. But, hopefully, not as deadly as what waited behind her.

And if she could just get the alpha to overlook that little matter of her vanishing for ten years…

Then maybe she’d have a chance of surviving the coming days and nights.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

The werewolves took her into the heart of the compound. Right inside the big, three story house with heavy stone walls that stood starkly against the night.

They walked into the foyer, and the tap of her boots seemed to echo on the marble floor. Marble. The wolves were kicking things up a notch. Normally, the vamps were the ones who liked to throw around their money.

She glanced down at her scuffed boots. Not that I ever had money to toss at anyone or anything.

But it looked like Drake had plenty of money now. And one big, fancy house. This place wasn’t where she belonged, and soon enough, she’d be leaving. After she took care of a little business.

“This way.” The werewolf on her right–the blond one who’d wrapped his claws around her neck moments before–was pointing to the stairs.

She nodded quickly and followed him up those winding stairs. Then they hurried down a hallway. Turned around a corner. As they headed down that quiet hallway, Paige got a really, really bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Are you taking me to Drake’s office?”

The werewolf beside her, the dark-haired one, just grunted.

That bad feeling got worse. This looked like private quarters to her. Like they were taking her–

A door jerked open to her left. And then, right there, bigger and even sexier than she remembered, with wide shoulders that brushed the edges of the doorframe, a muscled and bare chest, a wild curl of black hair, and eyes that blazed golden fire…right there stood the werewolf alpha, Drake Wyler.

The man she’d loved and lost before.

The man she needed now.

But at that moment, he stared at her with so much fury she almost felt the heat of his glittering gaze burn her skin.

“Paige.” Her name was a growl of rage. Okay, so coming here hadn’t been the best idea but–

His nostrils flared.

Hell. Her whole body tensed. With werewolves, their sense of smell was so strong that it only took one whiff to realize… “Vampire.” The word was a curse.

She didn’t flinch. Well, perhaps she did. When he’d known her before, his voice had always been softened with need, with love.

Not hardened with deadly rage.

He grabbed her, not with his claws out, like the other werewolf had, but Drake wrapped his hands around her shoulders and pulled her over the threshold of the room–and into his arms.