Dream Warrior: (Dark Warrior Alliance Book 1) Read Online Free

plagued him of late had resurfaced. Now, added to that, was a deep sense of emptiness and dissatisfaction. Sexual release had not helped. And he still hadn’t fed, which was becoming a critical issue.
    Peculiar warmth rustled deep within his chest. It was the portion of his Fated Mate’s soul that he had been born with. Exactly the reminder he needed right now. He withdrew from her, stuffed his softening penis back into his pants, zipped up and pulled down his shirt.
    Lena smoothed her hands over his seed staining her thighs, “I’m hungry and was hoping this time I could have a bite, mon cher .”
    His body shivered in revulsion. Misconstruing his shiver for a sensual response, she sauntered closer to him. “Besides, I need you again. I want to ride you.”
    “Nay, lass, no’ this time. I have an emergency, and you know I never let any female feed from me,” he bit off, unable to keep his agitation from his tone. He didn’t want to hurt this female, but he knew he could never be with her again. He turned and left the room.
    He staggered as his mate’s soul pulsed painfully and a bloody image flashed in his mind. This same image had been haunting him nightly for far too long. For the thousandth time he wondered about the dead male and what his role was in the war. The male appeared human, but something told Zander he was immortal. He had to get out of this club and clear his mind before he went mad.
    *****
    Zander lay on the gold, silk duvet that covered his large, king-sized bed, but sleep continued to elude him. The discomfort he had been experiencing had become a piercing ache in his chest. He rubbed at the pain and stood to pull on some jeans and a dark-blue t-shirt before he padded into the living room of his large suite. He flipped on the television and went into the kitchen area. After he set a pot of coffee to brew, he turned to the fridge. He was hungry but not for food. He needed blood. The thought sent a flutter through the tightness in his chest. He grabbed an apple and crossed back into the living room.
    He plopped down on the dark-brown, leather sofa and turned on CNN. His thoughts drifted to the previous night and his encounter with Lena and his peculiar reactions. Her perfume had driven him mad, but he was repulsed by her . The heavy clomp of boots interrupted his thoughts. He expanded his senses and picked up the approach of Santiago and Orlando. From the sound of it, they were headed his way.
    He didn’t read their thoughts to determine why they were darkening his door before they knocked. “Enter,” he called out.
    Orlando opened the door and peered around the wood panel. “Good afternoon, Liege. Can we speak with you for a moment? This is urgent.”
    Orlando took a few steps into his rooms followed by Santiago, who shut the door behind him. His warriors were tense as hell. He tried to tune into them and picked up conflicting thoughts. Something about the widow, concern for the realm, attraction to the female--at least on Orlando’s part--and shock all bombarded his mind.
    They were setting his jittery nerves on edge. He stood and began pacing, a nervous habit of his. “Is this aboot the counselor’s murder?” he demanded.
    Orlando began wringing his hands and shifting from foot to foot. “Yes. We looked into it as you asked, and, well…”
    After several moments of allowing the male to find his words, his patience snapped. “Spit it oot, already.” He looked to Santiago for answers but the male kept his mouth shut and his lower lip gripped between his teeth.
    “The widow is extremely upset by how the department has handled her husband’s murder investigation. She threatened giving the news reporters her side of the case,” the male paused and met his gaze squarely. “And, more importantly, I believe she knows about skirm,” Orlando said
    Zander stopped in his tracks and turned to face his warriors. “How the hell does she know aboot us? What does she know?”
    Orlando shifted