by C. D. Gorri
He is so damn infuriating. What is it he’s offering me that I’ve never been given in my life? He wants me to ask but I will not.
“Well?” He demands.
I don’t move. I’m stuck, feet rooted to the floor because he is correct in everything he says. There is nothing out there for me. Nothing but danger, hunger, cold and probably death. Here, there is at least a chance. He’s promised he won’t touch me in that way unless I ask him to, which means he never will because I will never ask. All he wants is a sip of my blood. A sip, which is nothing, right?
“I will stay for now. You may take a sip, and I mean one sip of my blood, no more. There will be no other touching, no caresses. Do you understand? Also, I don’t know what you were alluding to, but there is nothing that you could offer me that I would want.”
He steps nearer, the closest he has been yet, his big body bracketing mine, his warmth radiating from him. I wasn’t expecting it. I thought he’d be cold. Despite the warmth of his fingers when they touched me, I didn’t expect his body heat to be this high.
“You’re so warm,” I say without thinking.
“Yes, I am. I fed before I worked out with the Legion. When we feed, we are warmer. We are never truly cold though, not in the way I think you imagine. You’ve probably been reading human books. Next you’ll be telling me that you can bring me to my death by holy water or garlic.” He chuckles, then his face grows serious. “I’ve taken sustenance tonight, little one, so don’t be scared. I really do only want one taste. One taste to prove to me, and to you, what this thing is that we are both feeling.”
I may deny it to my very marrow, but I do feel it. I’ll never tell him, but I’m not a liar to myself. I felt safer next to this man, this vampire, then I have with any of my pack for a long time. If I went purely on my instinct, it would be to walk to him and let him hold me. My mind keeps getting in the way. My mind keeps telling me that, surely, I cannot be safe with this vampire. My mind is what tells me to run, to go back to my pack, even though the very thought of it makes me shiver with dread.
It’s as if, now that I finally got away, I’ve realized how badly they treated me. All those years of intolerance, and bullying, and downright vile behavior that I just normalized - I normalized it because it was all that I knew. I had nowhere else to go.
I stare at my captor and drink in his handsome visage once more.
“Just do it,” I say. “Take the blood you want so that it's over and done with.” Will it kill him?
“How romantic,” he says with a laugh.
I close my eyes and brace myself for the pain.
Chapter Four
Dragan
I lean down and brush Lisbeth’s hair from her neck. There are even some splatters of mud on the skin here, and I should order her to take a shower, but I can't wait. My fangs ache with the need for just one taste of her.
As soon as I've done this, I will send for a maiden to clean Lisbeth.
I tell myself that drinking her blood will give me the information that I need and that's why I'm so desperate to do it, but it's much more than that. I want to taste her because I know she will be exquisite. Wolf shifters believe we cannot drink their blood, but they are mistaken, we can. It’s simply degrading to do so from something so far below us, but this creature is not below me. She’s incredible. Tempting.
My gums are sore from the anticipation that I'm feeling and the pressure from my fangs. My lips parts with a tremble as I brush over her throat with my thumb. When I first place my skin on hers, it is with nothing more than a whisper-soft kiss.
She stiffens, and with my other hand I grab her firmly around the waist. The very first moment I sink my fangs in will hurt. It's nothing but a split second of discomfort before the pleasure will take hold imminently. Still, I don't want her to panic and try to pull away, causing damage to herself.
Unable to resist, I lick the skin of her throat, and a soft rumbling groan emanates from my chest.
“Are you ready, little one?” I ask.
I single hard jerk of her head is all I get as an answer.
I kiss the soft skin at the juncture of her throat and shoulder twice. My cock is rock hard, and it's tempting to push myself against her, but I won't do that. This, the drinking, she gave permission for, but anything else is off limits. I'm a man of my word, and I made a promise. It's one I intend to keep.
Of course, I didn't make any promises about not being sneaky. Lisbeth doesn't know what's about to hit her. She is a wolf shifter, and we haven't drunk from one of those in many, many a century. However, if she reacts anything like female vampires or humans do, she’ll be clawing at my clothes before I finished taking a taste.
The bigger question is, what will drinking her blood do to me?
It's almost sacrilegious. A vampire, and one who is not that many steps removed from a true-blood, drinking from a lowly wolf shifter.
I tell myself it doesn't matter because she cannot change form. It's a lie. It does matter because I'm about to cross the threshold that hasn't been crossed in hundreds of years. The Queen could have my head for this.
And that's another reason for me taking my little one’s blood. If she is my fated mate, once I have drunk from her, nothing can stop us from being together, other than killing me. A male vampire who has tasted his true mate cannot be parted from her. I know only too well that if I spoke to the Queen now, and told her that I have my suspicions, she would probably have Lisbeth thrown from the grounds, or worse, killed.
She’d tell me that she was doing it for my own good, and in many ways, she could be correct, but now that I've seen this beauty, and scented her, I cannot let her go.
I could tell her that I'm about to drink her blood to save her life, but it will only terrify her even more. I could also tell her the truth about how it will join us the moment I taste her, if indeed we are fated to be mates.
Not that I will be disclosing such things, as it will only make my little one try to flee.
My teeth scrape the vulnerable flesh along the side of her throat. This exquisite moment is always one of the most overwrought in any vampire’s life. That split second before you take the first taste of new blood. This time it's heightened by the knowledge of who and what Lisbeth could be to me.
I tighten my grip on her waist and wrap my fist in her hair, holding her still, and then I bite down.
Her body jerks, and she gasps. A second of her trying to pull away from me, and fighting uselessly against my superior strength, is replaced almost immediately by her sagging against me.
The fight goes out of her just as surely as I knew it would. As I start to suck her life blood into my mouth, she makes this soft mewling sound in the back of her throat. Lisbeth sounds more like a kitten than a wolf right now. My thick length pushes painfully against my pants.
This will probably be enough to make me come.
Her too, I'm hoping.
Carefully, being sure to drink slowly, I take in more of her delicious taste.
It slams into me so hard it almost knocks me off my feet. I see visions as clearly as if they're playing out in front of me for real. Lisbeth’s been tormented, teased and left out. I rage for my mate because she is mine. These wolves are vile. The scene changes, and I see her in a small kitchen, eating what looks like a plain stew. The sounds and sights of her life assail me as my eyes flutter closed and my heart roars at the taste of my true mate.
She's wriggling against me now, but not trying to get away. No, she's trying to get closer.
“Oh, gods above,” she cries. “What the hell is happening to me. Oh my gods.”
I know what she needs, but I made a promise. I said I wouldn't touch her that way until she begged.
I do angle myself, however, so that my thigh is right where she can press against it. I brush against her core. The invitation is there, and she takes it immediately.
Lisbeth moans as I take more from her, much more than I intended. Her pussy presses against my leg, and she rubs herself sh
amelessly against me, taking what she needs.
The sounds she's making, and the scent of her arousal have me leaking in my pants.
Her fingers grasp my collar, and she pulls me tighter against herself as with a loud crying gasp, she comes undone.
I stop drinking as I release against the material of my pants. My lips stilled against her neck, I pant against the skin there as I come copiously. Shit, I’ll need to get changed.
Unable to resist, and forgetting all the promises I have made, I grasp her chin, and turn her face to me.
I claim her mouth in a greedy, punishing kiss. Her lips are soft, but she kisses me back with just as much ferocity.
Our mouths are engaged in a battle for supremacy, but this is one war neither of us can win.
Skin tingling and mind racing, I pull away from her.
She stares at me, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“What was that?” She asks. Tears glisten in her eyes, and I want to wipe them away. I also want to wipe out everyone who ever hurt her in the past. The joke is on me because I thought by doing this, and by bonding Lisbeth to me, I would take the upper hand.
I understood that a vampire male, when he finds his mate, becomes somewhat irrational and possessive. Of course, there is a difference between understanding something intellectually and experiencing it emotionally. I want to tear down that vile wolf village and slay everyone in it.
I want to kneel at Lisbeth’s feet and beg her to take me as hers.
I need more of her blood. I need more of her kisses. I need to be inside her right the fuck now. I am so screwed.
And now, I must go and see the Queen. She might still tell me that I can't keep Lisbeth, but if she does, she's going to start a war with the leader of her own army. I will burn this fortress to the ground if that's what it takes to keep Lisbeth safe.
When I think of all the crap I've given Sebastian, I feel bad. If only I had understood the immensity of what he was feeling.
At least Sebastian did things the right way and found himself a vampire bride. I might be about to become excommunicated from the only society I've known for centuries. How would I protect Lisbeth then? She can't return to her wolf pack, and I might be about to get us thrown out of the vampire world.
That can't happen. If the Queen tries, I will go to war with her.
Even thinking such a thing is dangerous. Who knows what powers the Queen’s mage has? He may be able to read minds for all I know.
I decide, before I go to see the Queen, that I ought to speak to Sebastian.
For the first time ever, I'm about to lock my door. I need to explain to Lisbeth that I'm not locking her in but locking possible danger out.
“Listen,” I say to Lisbeth. “I need to leave to speak to someone, and I'll only be gone for twenty minutes, if that. Problem is, I don't know how safe you are here. I'm going to close the door and lock it. I'm not doing it to make you a prisoner. I'm doing it to keep you safe.”
She doesn't say anything. The feisty sass that she showed earlier is gone now. I think I know why. She's probably as shocked as I am about what happened between us just now.
In one sense, very little happened between us. That's why our reaction to it was so astonishing. I've heard of things like this between fated mates, but I always thought it was myth. After all, how else can you get someone to throw their whole life away into commitment with one person unless you create legends around the wonderful state of fated matrimony.
There was nothing fake about what happened between us though.
She is mine now, and if I know anything about a match as strong as ours, I am hers. Yes, Lisbeth might not have realized it yet, but she will be very possessive over me, the same way I will be over her.
Who would have thought it? A wolf shifter who can't change meets a vampire who rules the Legion – and this is what happens.
We burn.
Match meet gasoline.
Chapter Five
Lisbeth
He left. He tore my world down around me, and then he left me alone. I stare around the room, wondering what to do to fill my time.
He said that a… maid, was it? Maiden? I can't recall the exact wording, but he said that a female would come and help me bathe. I don't need help bathing, and I don't want any more of these creatures touching me. I don't want him touching me ever again.
Liar, liar pants on fire.
I do want him to touch me. I want him to touch me in all the ways a male touches a female.
I probably haven't got much time before the female arrives, and I should make good use of my time alone in his rooms. What mischief can I get up to?
What's the one thing any lover does when left in the room alone? Snoop.
Never mind that I'm not officially his lover. Never mind I keep telling myself we will never be such a thing to one another. I'm burning with curiosity about him.
Slowly, I walk around the living space and take everything in, in a way that I haven't done until this moment. When Dragan is in the room, I'm too captivated by him to notice anything else. With him gone, I can take my time to discover the ambience of his living space.
His furniture is comfortable and surprisingly modern. The sofa is a huge sectional creation in a gorgeous teal blue. His floor looks to be bamboo, and I have to admit that I love it. Everything he has in this room screams of good taste. I know what I want to look at though; I want to see his bedroom. Without him here, I can admit more freely how strong my feelings for him are.
It makes no sense whatsoever. Amongst wolf shifters, we believe that you can meet your mate at any time and fall in love with them quickly. Sometimes shifters love one another after mere days. I've known Dragan for less than an hour, and whilst I wouldn't say I love him - because, hell, I don't even know him - he has a massive hold on me.
Excited, and filled with a strange sense of trepidation too, I head to the door that leads into what I expect is his bedroom. As I creep into the space, I realize I was right. There's more of that bamboo floor, but this time a huge, deep-red rug fills much of the space. In the center of the back wall, the biggest bed I have ever seen dominates the room.
As I stare at that bed, all kinds of strange feelings flutter within me. He made me come. He didn't even touch me, and I came from shamelessly humping his leg like some desperate, needy dog.
Some strange instinct has me walking to that bed until I'm bending down to sniff at his sheets. The same amazing oceanic sent with that deeper woodsy layer underneath hits me. I'm half tempted to roll around in his bed covering myself in his delicious smell, but that would just be really weird. He's only been gone a few minutes, and I'm already missing his presence.
I raise my fingers to my throat and gingerly touch the place where he took my blood from me. It's not sore at all, and I can't feel anything. In the corner of the room there's a huge closet, and next to it, a large free-standing mirror. I head to that and crane my neck to the side, looking to see where he bit me. There are two tiny, almost imperceptible, puncture marks. If I hadn't known where to look, one would probably not see them at all.
I wonder where he's gone. Is he visiting with another woman? Maybe he has a girlfriend here and he needs to go and see her and tell her about me? The thought has a well of rage bubbling within me, burning hot and bright. I gasp in pain and realize that I've been digging my nails into my palms hard enough to cut.
My gods what is wrong with me?
I'm turning into a crazy person.
There's a sharp rap at the door leading into the hallway, and I head to it. I realize that I can't open it because Dragan locked me in.
There's the sound of a key turning in the old-fashioned lock, and the door opens with a groan. A petite and beautiful woman with long blonde hair walks into the room. She looks at me and gives me a friendly smile. How come she has a key?
“Hi there, my name is Melissa. I'm one of the maidens, and Dragan has given me the task of getting you all nice and clean for him.”
<
br /> For him? Why? Also, how arrogant is he to think that he can get me cleaned up like I'm some sort of doll.
“I can manage myself,” I say.
I don't wish to be rude, but I don't want this strange vampire touching me. The very idea of these creatures still gives me the creeps. I know that's really bizarre when I'm craving the touch of one of them, but I think he's worked some sort of magic over me. As for the rest, they can go to hell.
“I'm sorry, but if I don't do what he requests, Dragan will be angry with me. He's very important here, as he’s leader of the Legion.”
I stare at her, dumbfounded. I may not know much about the vampires, but I know what their Legion is. It’s the army they use, and it's massive and powerful. Each nation has its own king and queen, and each nation has its own vampire army. It seems that I've managed to claim the attention of one of the most powerful vampires on earth. Only ten countries have a vampire population, which means only ten heads of the Legions. They are second, so far as I understand, only to the kings and queens. My gods, this man commands an army.
“Okay,” I tell her. I don't want to get this woman into trouble.
“I presume the bathroom is through the bedroom?” I inquire.
“Yes, it is. Let me show you the way.”
I stare at her and suddenly want to smack her across the face. How the hell does she know the layout of his rooms. How does she know where the bathroom is?
“How do you know where the bathroom is?” I ask.
She looks away from me, her gaze flitting around the room and landing on objects like a butterfly searching for somewhere to alight.
“Tell me.” I insist.
“I'm a maiden,” she says. “That means that we service the Legion.”
“Service how?” I ask.
“Well,” she says, biting her lip. “We provide services such as…oh, for example…” She brightens and smiles at me. “I made the shower lotion that Dragan uses. I often come in here to restock. And others, they make clothing… various things.”