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  Eternally Bound

  Tribes of the Vampire

  Michelle M. Pillow®

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  Eternally Bound

  © copyright 2006 - 2019 by Michelle M. Pillow

  Second Electronic Printing October 2016

  First Electronic Printing 2006

  Cover art © Copyright 2019 Book Cover Media

  Published by The Raven Books LLC

  ISBN 9781625010377

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.

  Michelle M. Pillow® is a registered trademark of The Raven Books LLC

  Contents

  Praise for Tribes of the Vampire

  About the Book

  Tribes of the Vampire

  Michelle’s Bestselling Series

  Author Updates

  Note from the Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  The Series Continues

  Join the Exclusive Club!

  About Michelle M. Pillow

  Free Reading Guides

  Please Leave a Review

  Praise for Tribes of the Vampire

  5 Stars!

  “I can honestly say that I have not enjoyed a vampire story this much since reading Anne Rice’s novels. Ms. Pillow has written a book which I found difficult to put down, and I highly recommend it. “

  RJ Reviews

  5 Stars!

  “The story took me over so completely that I was unable to put it down. “

  Novelspot

  5 Stars!

  “Michelle Pillow has again shown us what a versatile writer she is. She has now explored the domain of the vampire and has given us a very deep, dark story of vampire love and legend...The plot moves along smoothly and will have you turning the pages in anticipation.”

  LoveRomances Review

  5 Stars!

  “With her penchant for creating memorable, immortal characters, Michelle M. Pillow has penned one the darkest yet tormented vampires I have ever had the pleasure to read.”

  eCataRomance Reviews

  About the Book

  Eternally Bound

  Urban Fantasy, Dark Paranormal Vampire Romance

  Tribes of the Vampire Book Three

  Tatiana Sinclair has lived a perfect noblewoman’s life, until the night her brother forces her to cover up a murder. Haunted by the only witness to their deeds, the intensely sensual Count Spoleti, Tatiana is led into a world she never dreamed existed.

  Count Marcello Spoleti is intrigued by the female who dares to try to control the vampire. But, he also knows there is more to Tatiana than just a pretty face–much, much more. Forcing her father to give her to him, lest he tell of his children’s crimes, Marcello plans on keeping the strong-minded Tatiana under his complete command.

  Tribes of the Vampire

  Redeemer of Shadows

  The Jaded Hunter

  Eternally Bound

  In Her Shadows

  Can’t find the books?

  Updated Reading List and Links here: MichellePillow.com

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  To learn about new releases: Join the Mailing List

  Michelle’s Bestselling Series

  Qurilixen World Novels

  Dragon Lords Series

  Barbarian Prince

  Perfect Prince

  Dark Prince

  Warrior Prince

  His Highness The Duke

  The Stubborn Lord

  The Reluctant Lord

  The Impatient Lord

  The Dragon’s Queen

  Lords of the Var® Series

  The Savage King

  The Playful Prince

  The Bound Prince

  The Rogue Prince

  The Pirate Prince

  Qurilixen Lords

  Dragon Prince

  More Coming Soon!

  Captured by a Dragon-Shifter Series

  Determined Prince

  Rebellious Prince

  Stranded with the Cajun

  Hunted by the Dragon

  Mischievous Prince

  Headstrong Prince

  Space Lords Series

  His Frost Maiden

  His Fire Maiden

  His Metal Maiden

  His Earth Maiden

  His Woodland Maiden - Coming Soon

  Dynasty Lords Series

  Seduction of the Phoenix

  Temptation of the Butterfly

  Having trouble finding the books?

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  To learn more about the Qurilixen World series of books and to stay up to date on the latest book list visit www.MichellePillow.com

  Author Updates

  Join the Reader Club Mailing List to stay informed about new books, sales, contests and preorders!

  http://michellepillow.com/author-updates/

  Note from the Author

  I can’t believe it has been well over a decade since I wrote this book. While I enjoy writing other genres, the Tribes of the Vampire series has always been a favorite of mine. The research demands, attention to detail, and large world-building make it a fun challenge—not to mention all the naughty vampires demanding their turn on screen. You try telling them no!

  What a wonderful and wild trip being an author has been thus far. I have no complaints. I love being able to create worlds and take adventures of the mind with my readers.

  This book is being presented in its revised third edition. Though the original story line remains the same, it has undergone some changes.

  Thank you to my loyal readers. I can’t wait to entertain you for many more years to come!

  * * *

  Happy Reading!


  Michelle M. Pillow

  Chapter One

  Eastwich Manor, England, Spring 1896

  Tatiana Sinclair smiled dreamily at the stars as she fitted her gloved hand into that of a groom’s. The scent of wildflowers was thick on the air, perfuming the night with their intoxicating fragrance. The wind rustled gently over the land, perfectly cool to the warmth of the late hour. It stirred heavily against the higher limbs of trees until the sound of the crashing leaves sang out. It was a perfect night.

  The servant, Thomas, was dressed in the full livery of the Eastwich Manor staff. He lifted the back of his hand to help her down from her family’s brougham. The carriage shifted ever so slightly as she stepped onto the cobblestone drive. Tatiana barely paid the towheaded man any mind.

  Thomas tried to smile at her, murmuring a greeting in his low, youthful voice. “Welcome home, Miss Tatiana. How was your evening?”

  Tatiana glanced briefly at him, before frowning and waving him away. Her chin was proud, if not a little haughty, as her lips curled in contemplation. Thomas was two years older than her, but she still thought of him as a boy. He was handsome and polite, but that did not give him the right to address her. She would have to speak to her father about having him replaced. It wouldn’t do for the servants to be seen familiarly speaking to her as if they did it every day. Such a faux pas could kill her chances at a good marriage.

  Well, Tatiana thought, feeling benevolent in her good mood. Perhaps, I should be lenient with him and only have him reprimanded. We did grow up together after all and tonight was such a lovely evening.

  Tatiana’s pale green gown of expensive silk and Brussels lace tangled in the breeze. Her face again turned to the vast expanse of stars twinkling brilliantly in the dark blue of the night sky. The heavy weight of her white petticoats rippled slightly, showing the toes of her dainty slippers. Her black curls were pinned up with the utmost care, adorned with green silk flowers. She was at the peak of her youth, dressed in the height of fashion. She was beautiful, rich, and knew it. She had many suitors vying for her hand. Everything was perfect. Her life was going according to plan.

  Thinking of it, Tatiana smiled to herself. If she managed it right, she could be married within a year’s time, or at the very least engaged. Suddenly, she noticed that her chaperone, a servant girl from the household, stood next to her waiting. Tatiana merely waved her to proceed alone. The servant, whose dark eyes gave away the fact that she was exhausted, curtsied and rushed up the front steps to find her bed. Tatiana ignored her.

  Lightly, she hiccupped. It had been a delightful evening of dinner à la russe. Tatiana blushed to remember how much of Lady Cottley’s ‘special’ punch she’d consumed. Surely, if her father discovered the excess, she would be forbidden from ever going back.

  Sighing as the carriage was led down the long drive to the distant stables, she made the short walk up the front stairs of her home. Eastwich Manor was a modest home compared to the large renovated castles and estates of the local nobility. Nevertheless, the property was very well maintained.

  The square corners of the manor’s stone walls were smooth, dotted with just the right number of shrubs and flowers to make it stately and elegant without being excessive. Tall windows lifted up the sidewalls, with dark blue draperies showing from the inside. Most were drawn closed, but a little crack of light shone out from one onto the front expanse of steps. It was a very fine home indeed. Although her father wasn’t titled, his income was quite sufficient to cause much envy among the neighbors and to earn her their respect.

  Tatiana smiled a secretive smile. If she had anything to do with it, she would be titled soon enough. It was rumored that an Italian count had let the old Glastonbury Castle not far from her very home. As a young girl, she’d been fascinated by the rundown pile of rocks surrounding the castle and had climbed over them often. The castle itself was in decent repair though it desperately needed the care only a wealthy owner could give.

  Lady Cottley had been aflutter with the news of it, claiming to have met the “young and altogether too handsome” nobleman the other night. Their carriages had crossed at a narrow pass in the country roads. She said that he was very well spoken, for a foreigner, and very dashing as he leaned out the carriage window to answer her greeting.

  When Tatiana asked her to describe what the count looked like, Lady Cottley couldn’t quite remember, except for the impression he was handsome enough to leave her lightheaded. The good lady was, however, sure the count was in England searching for a wife. For according to that same lady, there was a shortage of suitably marriageable women in Italy.

  “Tatiana, wait!”

  Tatiana instantly froze on the bottom step leading to the front door. The very sound of her name expressed in such a way made her nervous. Recognizing the voice, she shivered, turning around to face her older brother and only sibling. Henry had not been available to escort her to the dinner service, so she had depended on a servant to be her chaperone. He’d claimed he was too ill to attend. It irked her that he would be out in such a condition, but Tatiana knew it was more than likely that he had lied to get out of taking her.

  The crack of light shining through the long front windows was dim so she couldn’t see him too clearly, except the vague impression of his features and the shadowed outline of his slender body. She gasped, immediately forgetting her irritation with him. His dark blue frock coat was covered with splatters of thick mud. “What happened? Were you in an accident?”

  Stepping back down the steps, she made her way to him. Henry stumbled forward, jarring her as he impatiently grabbed her arm.

  “Ow, Henry, stop.” She tried to shake off the desperate clutch of his fingers by swatting him with her gloved hand. “You’re hurting me.”

  Henry’s grip only tightened as she tried to escape, bruising her skin with its fierceness. She stumbled, slow to react, her mind numbed with liquor from the punch. Her brother’s dark eyes narrowed, and he struggled for breath. Tatiana saw that the same strange substance also splattered the pale skin of his features. Up close, it did not appear to be mud. Curious, Tatiana lifted her fingers to his cheek, plucking a bit of matter off him with her white gloves. Whatever it was, it was hard.

  “Whatever are you covered in, Henry?” Tatiana asked. He mumbled breathless, incoherent sentences. She couldn’t make out his words. Ignoring the pain he inflicted on her arm, she raised her gloved fingers to where the moonlight shone brightest to examine them. Her mouth fell open. It was blood.

  Henry, seeing her impending look of horror, grasped her other arm in his palm, pulling her to him. Tatiana shivered as his fingers seized over her mouth, shushing her startled scream. She could smell the coppery scent of blood on his hand, felt the drying stickiness against her skin where he touched her face. Blood marred his jacket, streaking onto her pale green gown, hitting against her arms, as he held her tight to keep her quiet.

  Speaking close to her ear, he croaked in a low, hoarse tone that she’d never heard from him, “She’s dead.”

  She?

  His strong fingers muffled Tatiana’s renewed scream. He pressed hard, cutting her teeth onto her inner lips. She tasted blood in her mouth and moaned weakly. She tried to answer him. Her wide, desperate eyes studied his panicked face. She moaned in louder protest, and he jerked her to an abrupt, rough silence.

  “It’s not my fault,” Henry insisted, almost wildly. He shook her harder in his desperation to convince her. His words turned to a plea. “Do you hear me, Tatiana? She refused me. It’s not my fault. She had no right, no right at all. I didn’t hurt her. She fell. She was a bloody strumpet giving it out to every man. She was nobody. I will not be ruined for this!”

  “Henry.” Her voice was muffled through his parted fingers. Tatiana gasped, trying to peel her lips from his bloodied hand. She slowly shook loose from his tight hold to catch her breath and steady her racing heart. The strange, almost foreign smell of human blood, so curious and strong, slipped on her skin
as she moved against him. It made her nauseous. A dark cloud threatened her already drunken brain, and all she could think about was how this might ruin her chance at meeting the Italian count, of gaining her title, of getting out of England and seeing the rest of the world.

  As soon as she heard the words Italian and count coming from Lady Cottley’s lips, she’d formed the perfect plan. The count wanted a wife, and she would make a perfect wife. Henry went away on a grand tour like the rest of the gentlemen with whom she’d grown up. She was expected to stay home, in England, forever. She wanted to travel, to see things, to meet people. She wanted to touch ancient ruins. In all her eighteen years, she’d never wanted anything more. Now, in Henry, she saw her dreams plummeting to the ground.