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Deglon Blood (Vilmo's Wrath)Chapter 1

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Mt. Angel, Oregon 1920

Mya's muscles tense throughout her body, swelling veins pulse violently beneath her skin, and her eyes widen as Dumont crouches over her. In her bed, she squirms and roars. The prodigious funk of rot that makes his decaying teeth blacken stirs up the contents in her gut as he leans in close to her face.

"Get off of me!"

As he meets her eyes, a smile perches on his pale lips as he traces her features with his gaze. A muffled groan escapes her tightly clamped teeth as fingernails dig into her flesh as she bucks wildly. With each breath, the tips burrow deeper into her neck.

"Stop fighting so that we can have a decent conversation."

He lets go of Mya's neck after a few moments of observing her admirable attempt to show no fear. Mya's eyes blaze with rage as she tries to keep her breathing under control. Her bucking to get free from his grip only piqued his interest. Dumont had a thing for fiery women. Especially if they possessed something he desired. He blows her a kiss while brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. After several deep breaths, Mya glares up into his eyes. With her face hard, her lips draw back in a snarl; she holds his gaze without the slightest tremble, even though he tugs at her soul with his stare.

With her hands and feet bound to the bed with only his thoughts, Dumont seizes the moment. His hands roam her body. Mya shudders, squeezing her eyes shut as a shivering chill from his cold skin caresses her breast and slowly moves down to her stomach. Even over her silk gown, his numbing touch makes her feel naked and vulnerable. More exposed than she had ever felt. Despite her best efforts, her lower lip quivers as she fights back the tears that threaten to reveal her fragility as he strokes her bulging belly.

"The twins are already so powerful. Mya, you will allow me one of them, or I will slay both."

Running his razor-sharp fingertips across her stomach, he rips through the top layer of her flesh. Dumont's smile widens when he notices the agony that rests in her glare. He wanted to hear her scream. Eye to eye with Mya he digs a little deeper hoping she'd cry out. His desire to hear her beg for mercy burned fiercely in his intense stare. Gripping her fists tight to deal with the pain, Mya's lip lifts into a confident smirk. She would never give in. Dumont's smile faded slightly and disappointment crept in, evicting all hope that she would give him the privilege of hearing her beg.

"These children will never...."

Her words are muffled by the palm that slams across her mouth. When he bites down on his wrist, Mya's eyes widen. Knowing his next move, Mya clenches her lips together while she squirms to break free.