The Warrior Vampire by Kate Baxter

relief built in Naya’s chest, but she refused to let it out. Adrenaline flooded her system, a change in her scent and body chemistry that Santi was sure to pick up on. But perhaps her personal drama would be the diversion she needed to keep Santi from finding out about her new houseguest.
    â€œI plan on dealing with it. When things settle down.” Surely Paul wouldn’t press the issue with mapinguari running amok. “I’ll talk to Joaquin and we can go to the council together. Luz isn’t ready to take over. They’ll listen to reason.”
    She needed to quit babbling.
    â€œAre you sure that’s all?” Yep. Her stupid mouth and nerves had thrown up one too many red flags. “You’re pretty nervous, Naya.”
    â€œYou know I have zero interest in being anyone’s mate.” It was the truth. The thought of being tied down made her break out into a cold sweat. “I want the opportunity to live a life outside of the tribe’s parameters. And this mandate isn’t exactly going to help it happen.”
    Santi was her friend. She could trust him. And yet she couldn’t push the truth past her lips. Couldn’t tell him about Ronan. He was a mystery that she needed to keep to herself for now. If Santi thought that the council’s mandate to mate her to Joaquin was crazy, she could only imagine what he’d say when he found out she had a vampire in her bedroom who’d already claimed the honor.
    It seemed that the town—hell, her entire life—was going to hell in a handbasket. And she had a feeling that the male currently cuffed in her bedroom had something to do with it.
    *   *   *
    Ronan forced every ounce of strength in his reserves through his arms. He tugged so hard on his cuffs that the links snapped with little resistance. A feral growl built in his chest. She might have wanted to keep his presence a secret, but he was ready to take the door right off the fucking hinges. He’d like to see someone try to mate her with another male. Ronan would cut a bloody swath before he’d let that happen.
    Naya belonged to him as much as he belonged to her.
    Pain radiated in his skull as myriad voices closed in around him. Ronan doubled over, clutched at his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. Images rained down on him: Mikhail, searching the city for the female who’d awakened his power and saved their doomed race. Claire bloodied and unconscious, hanging lifeless in his friend’s arms. Ronan’s mind grew hazy, as though a blanket of fog had settled over him, and he gave a sharp shake of his head to dislodge the hold of the Collective from his mind.
    In quick succession a barrage of memories swamped him. Mikhail, Claire, Jenner … Another bank of fog settled and cleared. Siobhan’s dark raven hair and bright emerald eyes loomed in his mind’s eye. She lay beneath him, writhing in ecstasy as he pounded into her. The sting of her bite was a welcome pleasure as her fangs punctured his skin. And a troth, freely given, that he was powerless to escape.
    Ronan gasped as though breaching the surface of deep water, desperate for air. The Collective threatened to pull him under once again, but he fought its pull, forcing himself to remain in the present. A derisive snort filled the silent space as he gave his head one last violent shake. He was worried about someone giving Naya to another male? What about the blood troth he’d given to another female?
    Gods fucking damn it. What a clusterfuck.
    He focused his attention back on the conversation going on out in the living room. He knew little of the male with whom Naya was speaking, but her anxiety permeated the air with a sharp citrus tang that spiked Ronan’s protective instinct. She’d promised to run her dagger through his chest if he stepped even a toe out of line, but he refused to cower in her bedroom while the scent of her distress burned his