Unleash (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 6) Read Online Free Page B

enter Snow’s mouth. He swallowed it down and grimaced, suppressing a shudder as it chilled his throat. Disgusting.
    It did what he needed it to though. The moment it reached his stomach, his body began to absorb it, using it to restore some of his strength. With his returning strength came memories that had eluded him. The black empty stage of Vampirerotique bathed in blood and entrails. An unfamiliar female and a child. Payne defending them. Males attacking his brother.
    His brother’s blood spilling.
    Snow growled and bucked against the restraints, the image of Antoine bleeding from wounds across his chest driving his bloodlust back to the surface. He ground his teeth as his fangs elongated, filling his mouth, and threw his head back and roared.
    “Snow!” Antoine pressed his palm against Snow’s forehead and pushed his head down onto the black pillows, effectively restraining him. “Look at me, Brother.”
    Snow rolled his eyes open and sought Antoine. Antoine knelt over him, concern shining in his pale blue eyes.
    “I am well. See for yourself.”
    Snow dropped his eyes to his brother’s chest. No blood marred the dark material of his shirt. No wounds. Antoine had already healed. Snow breathed slowly to calm himself and kept his eyes locked on his brother. He was well. Not bleeding. Not hurt.
    Not dying because of him.
    “Brother,” Snow said and Antoine frowned at him. He ached to be free of his bonds so he could take Antoine into his arms and hold him. He needed to reassure himself that his brother was unharmed, alive and with him. He longed to feel that he did have the power to break the hold of his bloodlust even when he feared that he didn’t. All he could do was ask though. “Your injuries are healed?”
    Antoine’s dark eyebrows knitted into a confused line.
    “It is a simple question. How are you feeling?” Snow tried again, needing an answer this time, afraid that if Antoine didn’t reassure him, he would lose his mind again and the bloodlust would claim him.
    Antoine released his forehead only to stroke it. “Are you feeling alright?”
    Snow frowned at that. He had asked the same damn thing and Antoine hadn’t answered. Was Antoine still injured? Had he not healed?
    “I am fine… but your injuries… tell me you have healed, Brother.” Snow tried to touch him and the cuffs sliced into his wrists again. He winced at the fleeting stab of pain. Antoine took some more cotton wool from the black nightstand and cleaned the blood off his wrists for him, and then cast him a worried glance. “What is it?”
    Antoine sat back on the bed and Snow could sense his concern and frustration. He lobbed the bloodied cotton wool into the bin near the nightstand, drawing Snow’s attention to how full it was. Some had fallen out, littering his wooden floor. How long had he been lost to bloodlust?
    “Antoine. Answer me.”
    His younger brother’s expression grew even more concerned. “I do not understand a word you are saying, Snow, and you are beginning to scare me.”
    Snow frowned now and thought about the words that had left his lips. They had seemed normal to him.
    “I never learned the language of our family’s homeland.” Antoine refilled the glass with blood and rested it on his knee.
    Snow stared at him, struggling to take in what he had said. He had been speaking the old language?
    His eyes shot wide and he tried to sit up, only to have the cuffs around his wrists jerk him back against the pillows. Antoine hastily set the glass down on the nightstand and grabbed his shoulders, his fear flowing over Snow. Evidently, he thought Snow was having a relapse.
    For once, it wasn’t the case.
    “The prince and… homeland. Prince.” Snow knew he wasn’t making any sense and it wasn’t because he was speaking the old language this time. He was speaking English. The look in his brother’s eyes as they darted between his and the glass of blood said he definitely thought the blood had had a negative