(Splintered Bloodlines 3)
Date Published: November 28, 2025
Bobby Kirkland leads a simple life -- mostly simple, considering his budding romance with the esteemed Deacon Saridan, head vamp of House Saridan.
Amid the romance and Bobby's exploration of the BDSM lifestyle with his new mate, a string of murders leads Deacon to believe that a familiar, though certainly not kind, face has shown itself in the lands of House Saridan… and this threat proves to be an even bigger challenge than first thought.
WARNING: Adult language and situations, including BDSM
Deacon
“How’s he doing? Fitting in okay?”
The dock foreman, Toryn, leaned against the frame of the plate-glass window we stood at as we watched the workers in the shipping area below. “Seems to be. He gets along with the guys pretty well.”
I glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “But…”
He sighed. “He struggles to stay on task sometimes, and he tends to daydream a good bit. Not a bad thing inherently, but not great when working around forklifts and eighteen-wheelers.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. The young man who’d captured my attention weeks ago was indeed a bit flighty at times. According to Cam, Bobby Kirkland had always been that way, and a diagnosis of ADHD as a pre-teen had answered a lot of questions. He needed structure and routine, in my opinion. I’d hoped working here would give him that, but he still seemed to have trouble staying focused on occasion.
The bell signaling the end of the workday rang out in the warehouse. I spotted Bobby going toward the door that led into the large breakroom where the lockers were. Beside me, Toryn snickered softly.
“I’m surprised you haven’t claimed him yet.”
I turned away from the window. “Soon.”
I followed him out of my office and downstairs. Most of the workers were already heading home, but a few -- including Bobby -- remained in the breakroom. Toryn patted my shoulder and went to his own locker. The others glanced over at me, and a couple of them shot Bobby teasing smirks. Even from the doorway, I saw him blush. There wasn’t any hint of jealousy with this group, thankfully. When Bobby met my gaze, I discreetly gestured for him to join me upstairs. He nodded, and I headed back up. Once I claimed him, we’d be able to speak telepathically and not worry about coworker issues. Then again, he also wouldn’t be working either, but that was a discussion for another day.
A few minutes after I sat down on the small couch in my office, the door opened. Bobby smiled, though there was a good bit of nervousness behind it. He shut the door and sat a couple of feet beside me at my urging. I twisted a little to face him and got comfortable.
“How was work?”
“Good,” he said, fidgeting a bit with his hands, like he didn’t know what to do with them. One leg bounced a little.
“Have you had any problems with your coworkers?”
Bobby didn’t answer right away, which told me everything I needed to know. I reached over and put my hand on his knee, stilling the movement almost immediately. His eyes widened for a moment, making him seem far younger than thirty-one. Of course, at my age, he was young.
“What is it? You can tell me anything, Bobby.”
He swallowed and tore his gaze from mine. I waited while he thought about whatever he wanted to say. Finally, he spoke. “Just a couple of guys who seem to think I’m an idiot.” He looked back up at me. “I’m not. I just get… distracted sometimes, hyper focused at others.”
“No, you’re definitely not an idiot. You wouldn’t be working here if so,” I said. “Have they done or said anything directly to you?”
“No, but I’ve caught a few whispers here and there,” he replied. “Not to mention the weird glances.” He shrugged and sighed. “I feel like I’m back in fucking high school, to be honest. It’s ridiculous.”
I chuckled softly and gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “I have a potential solution then, but I think we need to have a good, long talk before we go any further.”
Bobby nodded and stared down at my hand. “I honestly started to worry that this was a one-sided thing,” he muttered.
Unable to resist, I lifted my hand to cup his chin, tilting his head until I was looking into those soulful brown eyes. I stroked my thumb across his lower lip, and he let out a soft gasp. “I assure you, this is very much mutual. That said, there are details we must go over first.”
“Those details have anything to do with your necklace?”
I smiled and lifted the thin chain from under my shirt. Light reflected off the tiny handcuff pendant accented with garnets. “Indeed. How about we have dinner, and we can chat?”
“Sounds good to me. I need to let Dad and Cam know where I’ll be. I don’t have to, but it’s an old habit.”
“Absolutely, and a good one to have. Do you have any food preferences or sensitivities I need to know about?”
“I’m lactose intolerant, but that’s it.”
“Understood. Let Beau and Cam know what’s going on and then meet me in my chambers upstairs. Normally, I’d take you out, but the things we need to discuss are not for anyone else’s ears.”
His gaze shifted a bit, and I couldn’t ignore the urge any longer. Fingers gripping his chin, I tipped his head and leaned close. Bobby’s soft moan the moment our lips touched sent almost overwhelming need rushing through me. His scent -- a decadent mix of soap, shampoo, and something woodsy yet sweet -- filled every part of my psyche. The urge to bite flitted through my mind, but I shoved it away for now. I knew he was mine; I didn’t need to taste his blood to confirm it.
Bobby opened for me, pliant, eager, and so insanely delicious. I released his chin and cupped the back of his head, pushing the kiss into hungrier territory for both of us. Before I could lose control and take him right here, though, I made myself pull back. He grumbled, and I nipped his lower lip before soothing it with my tongue.
“Dinner,” I murmured. “I need to taste every inch of you but not before we talk.”
About the Author
Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy as Katherine Cook.
He's an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and Spongebob Squarepants.
Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear from readers, be it via email or Facebook.
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