Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2)

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Authors: Victoria Renteria

Tags: #The Betrayed Series, #Book Two

BOOK: Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2)
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Bound By Blood

Copyright © 2016, Victoria Renteria

First Edition: 2016

 

All rights reserved.

 

Editing by Edee M. Fallon,
Mad Spark Editing

Cover art by Rebecca Pau at
The Final Wrap

Photography by
Mandy Hollis

Model:
Randi Sue

Interior book design and formatting by
Champagne Formats

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may use short excerpts in a review

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely co-incidental.

 

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademarked owners of various products and events referred in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission of trademark companies.

 

The publication or use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Glossary Of Terms

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Other Books

 

Glossary Of Terms

Ttal – Korean word for daughter.

 

Agassi – Korean term for young lady.

 

Mamasan – Korean term that refers to the “boss” or “owner.

 

Kkhangpae – South Korean Mafia or Street Gang

 

Lopeu – Korean term for rope.

 

Gidung or Namu Gidung – Korean term for wooden pole.

 

Tenpro – In Korea is a very high end escort service that provides companionship.

 

Todesbringer – German term for death bringer.

 

Ataa Almawt – Arabic term for death bringer.

 

Nesushchiy Smert’ – Russian term for death bringer.

 

Portador De La Muerte – Spanish term for death bringer.

 

Jug-eum ui buhwal – Korean term for death bringer.

 

R
AIN PELTS ME AS
I enter the building. I’ve been away from her for too long. That itch to be near her hasn’t lessened in the time we’ve been together. Pressing the call button for the elevator, I smirk as I recall my conversation with Noah this morning.

“Alpha?”

“Yeah?”

“That good, huh?”

“What?”

“Seriously, man? I’ve called you like five times, and you’re daydreaming.”

“Shit, sorry,” I say, scrubbing a hand down the back of my neck.

“So back to my original question. That good, huh?” Noah’s grin practically splits his face in two.

Laughing, I reply, “Yeah, that good. Just wait until it happens to you, man.”

“Unh unh. No way. I’m just fine single and playing the field, thank you very much.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep. I’m a love ’em and leave ’em kinda guy. Works better that way. We both get what we want and no stinking emotions involved.” Noah’s face pinches with disgust.

Laughing, I slap him on the back. “Oh, kid. Just you wait. That shit’s gonna hit you hard and fast like a punch in the gut. You’re not gonna know what to do with it.”

Shaking his head vehemently, he replies, “Nope. Not happening to this Don Juan.”

“Ha, you keep telling yourself that, Casa-Noah.”

The elevator dings and I get in, riding to the third floor, eager to see my girl. Pulse racing, heart hammering, blood pulsing excitement fills me as I open the door and step inside. Darkness greets me as I look around.

My brows crease as I call out, “Goddess, I’m home.” Silence. Walking from room to room, I find each of them empty.

“Fuck,” I grumble. Trudging up the stairs to the loft, I flip the switch, turning on the lights. Lying in the middle of the bed is a little box with a gold bow neatly tied on top. Off to the right of the box sits a sliver of paper folded in half. My heart gives a thud as I stride to the bed, scooping up the contents.

 

My Dearest Alex,

Words have never been a problem for me, yet as I find myself sitting down to write this letter to you, I’m at a loss. The words are there. However, I find they are just not adequate for what I truly feel for you or the fire you’ve awakened deep inside of me. Everywhere I turn, I see you. It’s as if your presence follows me even when you are not here. You are everything that I ever dreamed of and so much more. You are my savior, Alex, my saving grace. You are the light that shines brightly, taking away the darkness in my soul. And for the first time in my life, I feel alive . . . truly awakened and alive.

 

Love forever and always,

Your Goddess . . .

Kylee

 

P.S. The box is for you. It’s something small but meaningful. My father gave this puzzle ring to me when I was ten. He was stationed in Korea when he got it years ago. He told me it was a reminder that good always trumps evil. Sometimes good just has to work a little harder. I always felt like it was my good luck charm to ward off evil, and I want you to have it. I don’t need it anymore . . . I have you.

 

Clutching the letter to my chest, I tilt my head back, squeezing my eyes shut. Her words wash over me, sending warmth racing through my body. Tightness grips me as my heart races wildly. Saving grace? She said I was her saving grace. Doesn’t she know she saved me? I’d built walls so high no one could climb them. I’d closed myself off to everyone except my brothers, never letting anyone in. Somehow she found a way in, turning my world upside down. Smiling, I give my head a shake. I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Opening the box, tears burn my eyes as I look at the men’s puzzle ring snuggled in the tissue paper. The traditional gold ring is old and worn, one she clearly cared for and loved over the years. With trembling fingers, I pick the ring up, locking the pieces in place before sliding it onto my finger. The fluttering in my stomach increases as I peer down at the ring. Visions of us exchanging vows and rings dance before me, seizing my breath.

Kylee’s belly rounded, swollen with my child as we sit holding each other. Waking up every single day for the rest of my life next to her. The rightness of my visions hits me. For the first time in my life, I’m positive this is the right thing to do. We’re meant to be together—two halves of a whole. A smile slowly spreads across my face as I make my decision. Next week, the moment those papers are finalized, I’m asking Kylee to be my wife. It’s us all the way until the end.

Buzzing on my hip brings me out of my mental reverie. Grabbing my pager, I look down and curse. Fuck. We’ve been called out on a mission. Who knows how long it will take. Scribbling a note and grabbing a spare key, I grab my things and head out the door. Slipping the note and extra key under Kylee’s door, I smile as I walk to the elevator to head to base to be briefed.

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