His Little Spitfire

You didn't touch a vampiress who didn't want to be touched in the first place. That is a rule that all fools should be aware of.

Purebloods were very powerful.

The beast inside was straining on his leash due to excitement.

Everyone in the bar froze for a split second before focusing their gaze on her. The third wolf was on the floor in front of the vamp. His claws were already extending, even though he hadn't transformed yet. She yanked his head back to expose his neck with one small hand at his throat and the other clutching his hair. Vampires were notorious for going for the throat. It's all so predictable. They were always feeble because of their hunger.

"Kill the bitch..." A mumble came from one of the guys she'd tossed a couple of times suddenly reached him.

He could understand why his ego would be bruised but no one was killing anyone. Not tonight, not here.

She was pretty strong though, he remarked to himself. She had tossed him a good ten feet. With his claws out and blood flowing from his busted cheek, he was already rising. Even as the guys rose, Jace lifted his hand, stopping them. “Not…yet.”

He was confident that no one would disobey. They were unable to do so. He was the alpha, and if they tried to kick ass, he'd be the one doing it.

As he crossed the room, even the awful band came to a halt. The few human females in the bar looked about with interest, and he noticed a couple of shifters pushing them to the rear. The ladies came to Howling Moon to play.

The wolves, on the other hand, played with them. Those women were well-versed in the supernatural world, and they knew how to stay quiet about it.

The vampiress refused to let go of her prey. Jace took his time approaching her. She had pale, creamy skin, like most vamps. Her looks were...damn, almost flawless. Wide eyes, high cheekbones, and a narrow nose. Her chin was slightly peaked, giving her a stubborn edge, although bloodsuckers were not known for being easy going. Neither of them was a wolf.

She was dressed entirely in black. Those sexy boots, a tight black shirt, and a very short black skirt.

There is a link between sex and violence. That was pretty much how vamps and wolves dealt with each other. Jace caught up her scent as he closed in on her, separating the mild scent of her skin from the booze, sweat, and cigarettes in the air. The vampire had a lovely, enticing scent. Her species had a habit of doing so.

The better to lure their prey in for that deadly bite. But she was— well, more. 

He cocked his head in her direction. "Leave him."

"Of course," she said. Her voice was light, smooth, and sensuous, but it lacked an accent. She let go of the wolf almost immediately.

Mike then made the error of lunging up and slicing her with his claws. Jace's rage burst inside him, and he leapt forward, his claws breaking from his fingertips.

She took a step back, ducked, and then slammed her fist into the wolf's heart. Mike was thrown back against Jace by her fist.

Jace twisted the wolf around in his arms. He picked up the other person from the floor and stared him down. "Mike, I don't recall giving you authorization to attack."

He could hear the vamp's breathing heaving faintly, and he knew she wasn't as calm as she seemed. There isn't a whiff of panic yet.

“B-bloodsucker…comin’ in here…” Mike snarled. “She can’t just…walk in…” 

“I was invited here,” she said smoothly. 

Still trapped in Jace’s grip, Mike twisted and glared over his shoulder. “Who the hell would be dumb enough to invite a vampire here—“

“Your alpha.” Her answer came with a shrug as her gaze lifted back to Jace. Then she made the tiniest of servile motions with her head. Submission. "I've been informed of your offer, and I've come to accept it."

Mike's head swung back in his direction. “Jace?” His voice had grown louder. Wolves were known for their quick healing abilities. "What is this nonsense she's talking about?"

Mike's nose was pushed into Jace's forehead. Even as the smaller wolf howled, bones crunched and blood spurted. Jace then tossed the man against the nearest wall, which was around fifteen feet away. Mike didn't get up after crashing. Silence. It was so thick that it blanketed the entire bar. Jace locked his gaze on the vamp, attempting to hide his emotions. Then he carefully closed the gap between himself and the woman who was about to change for him. 

He took her hand in his and flipped her palm over. Yes, the mark was inside her left hand, cradled in her palm. It was exactly as he had predicted. A rose with a blood-red hue. He got close enough to notice the gold circle in her eyes. The pale gold that had the same effect on her as her hand had. She was far more than a simple bloodsucker. She was a princess of the vampire race. She was his key to power and immortality, and she was the ideal weapon with which to kick the demons who'd come to town to wipe off his people.

As she looked up at him, her lips parted. Her deceptively delicate fangs caught his eye. And he smelled horror as it raced through him. 

She had every reason to be terrified. He'd never let her go now that she was there, in his hands.

Never.

"My name is Jace." He allowed her to see his fangs. "And you're mine as well." A claim made in front of the entire wolf pack. Any wolf who touched her from now on would face him—and death. She took a deep breath and tipped her head back to meet his gaze. "Hello, husband," she said, matching his delusion or enthusiasm.