Leigh Jarrett | Author of LGBTQ+ Romantic Fiction: Alexander, Prince of the North (Drakkar Coven

ALEXANDER, PRINCE OF THE NORTH

Excerpt:

Alexander stood, staring at Oleander, blinking, blood obscuring his vision. The smooth skin of his bare chest slick with it—his breathing labored, a growl lingering at the back of his throat.

The urge to protect had been strong. His wolfen instinct to preserve his pack had overshadowed what it might cost them. He should have seen it coming. Tempered himself somehow. Anticipated that his profound love for Oleander would blind him—fuel his desire to protect his forbidden love and his love's human companion—far beyond reason.

His powerful jaws had torn into Drachen's flesh without pause, leaving the purebred son of Drakkar standing in momentary stunned stasis, blinking in disbelief as he clawed at the pulsing shreds of severed arteries, the remnants of his throat—unable to draw breath, finding only the splintered bones of his ragged spine atop a gurgling, bloody mess.

Sinking to his knees, Drachen had remained so, perfectly balanced, until his spine relented, unable to support his head, and snapped, releasing the weight of his skull, backward, where it lolled for a moment between his shoulder blades in a lurid, upside down grimace before pulling the rest of his body over with it—

Alexander would have continued if Oleander hadn't ordered him to withdraw. Separated Drachen's twitching, cumbersome limbs from the bulk of his body, strewn his seeping bowels across the white marble floor, and torn the putrid fangs from Drachen's gurgling, gaping skull.

He wrinkled his nose, the stench of death clung to the nostrils of his human form as he slipped into Oleander's chamber. Oleander's human companion, Timothy, was rousing from slumber, the scent of vampire and human semen hanging thick and distressing in the air around him. In wolfen form, Alexander's hackles would have been bristling, stabbing into the chill air, his jealousy of the human who had captured Oleander's heart, visible to all.

A tingle ran down into the tips of Alexander's fingers as the need to shift undulated through his body. Oleander had insisted he shift out of wolfen form to temper his desire for carnage. Honoring Oleander's request required intense concentration and commitment to the only being he had ever loved. Alexander snorted and shook his head, focusing on their plan to escape from the castle. Their meeting in the war room with Oleander's father, Count Drakkar, and the High Council had not gone as planned. It had gone quite the opposite.

Pages

Alexander, Prince of the North (Drakkar Coven - Book 3)