Blood Debt: A Reverse Harem Vampire Romance (Kingdom of Blood Book 1) Callie Rose (recommended reading TXT) 📖

from me that I should never have to give up. I’m having trouble seeing as pain explodes like black stars in my vision, and my head is pounding in time with his vicious, thirsty mouth.

I can’t fight it anymore, I can’t keep my mouth shut—a cry escapes my lips, thin and hoarse. He doesn’t care though. If anything, he just starts sucking at my neck harder, like he’s determined to pull out every drop.

“James!” A deep, gruff voice cuts through the air, cracking like a whip. “Let her go.”

Chapter Thirteen

I almost throw up when James yanks his fangs from my neck. It hurts even worse than when he bit down.

His mouth is smeared with blood, staining his lips bright red. It’s dripping off his teeth and chin like he’s some kind of fucking animal. And it’s still pouring out of me. He never closed the holes.

He turns toward the door, and I follow his gaze to find the owner of the voice. A ripple of shock washes through me when I see Rome standing in the doorway. His broad-shouldered frame seems to take up nearly the entire thing, and his blue-black eyes are focused on James. I swallow hard and immediately regret it as the pressure pushes blood out of me faster.

“What the fuck do you want?” James growls. “Can’t you see I’m feeding?”

“Is that what you call what you’re doing?” Rome shoots back, his voice hard.

“I don’t have to listen to you.” James practically spits the words out, spattering flecks of blood everywhere as he talks. “It’s not like anyone around here respects you anymore anyway.”

Rome steps forward, radiating intimidation. Real intimidation, not the hulking mess this animal was posing with.

“I would be shocked if anyone respects you either,” he growls. “You look like a pig at a fucking trough when you feed. It’s disgusting.”

The animal standing in front of me flushes, curling his lip at Rome. As much as he claims not to care what the other vampire thinks, the insult obviously got under his skin. My heart flutters weakly as alarm bells go off inside my mind. James obviously has issues controlling his temper, and there are two possible hotheaded responses to Rome’s words—one of which would end with my head flying across the room. I’m too scared to feel properly relieved when he chooses the other option. He backs away from me and gestures at the mess on my neck, giving a mocking little flourish of his hand.

“You wanna show me how it’s done, big guy? Be my fucking guest.”

James crosses his arms defiantly and cocks his bloody chin up at Rome, his ice-blue eyes glinting with petty fury.

I’m dizzy and sick, but I meet Rome’s eyes as his gaze flicks to me, determined not to show more fear than I already have. I can see the heat and hunger in his dark eyes, but there’s something else too. I can’t quite believe that it’s… concern. I’m going to chalk that illusion up to wishful thinking.

He doesn’t move for a long moment, and I can’t decide whether I hope he’ll accept James’s challenge or not. On the one hand, the idea of another vampire feeding on me right now, drinking from the shredded holes in my neck, makes me feel like I might vomit. On the other hand, if he says “fuck it” and leaves, I’ll be alone with James again.

And I’m not sure I could survive that at this point, even if I fight back.

When Rome nods slowly, my heart lurches. He walks over to me, and my knees shake so hard as he approaches that they threaten to come out from under me. I can’t take this kind of pain again, not without a damn weapon in my hand. I expect him to go for my throat right away, the way Jack the fucking Ripper did, but he takes my chin in his hand instead and tilts my gaze up to meet his.

His irises are dark, so dark they’re almost black—but from this close, I can see shades of blue and something like violet in them. India ink spilled on a kaleidoscope under a puddle of oil after a heavy rain.

Fuck, I’m losing it.

Keep your shit together, Mikka. It’s not that much blood, dammit.

“What’s your name?” he asks me softly.

“Darcy,” I murmur. It’s becoming like second nature now to give that answer. Shit, am I bonding with my spur of the moment stripper name? God forbid.

“My name is Rome. It’s nice to meet you, Darcy. I won’t hurt you.”

Yeah, sure you won’t.

Instead of saying that out loud, I let my gaze slip from his, down to where the floor meets the wall. It’s a passive gesture, and it doesn’t sit right with me. I hate this, all of it. It’s fucking with me so much worse than I ever imagined it would. I haven’t felt this helpless since I was a kid. Mostly because I’ve had knives in my hands ever since I knew how to use them, and I could always fight my way out of a tight spot.

Not this time. Maybe not ever again.

Keeping my chin tilted up, Rome drops his face to my neck. I suck in a short breath, bracing myself for more pain and that horrible wrenching feeling of having blood sucked from my body too fast.

But he still doesn’t bite me.

Instead, he licks me.

He’s licking my neck clean, I realize with a jolt. I feel like a wounded stray, and it takes everything in me not to whimper as I feel the wounds close under his magic touch. I’ve seen vampires do this after biting before, but I’ve never experienced it and had no idea what it felt like. My skin tingles a little as whatever it is in vampire saliva that gives it healing properties goes to work. The sharp pain subsides, soothed away by the warm, sure strokes of his tongue.

After a while, he moves his mouth away, and his large, strong