“No touch but mine,” he finally said. “Your body will know no touch but mine.”
“Yes,” Felicity whispered.
Enthrall was so entranced by his mate that he’d almost lost his head. He was dragging his fangs across the pulse in her throat, suckling the skin there in preparation of making her his, of taking her blood into his body and offering her his in turn. His blood was rushing in his brain, his senses all on high alert — his cock hard as steel in his breeches and pressing against her stomach where he held her to him. And did the little minx just rub herself against him? He growled softly and pressed his hand to her lower back to force her lower belly against him more tightly while he rocked his hips into her. He could scent her sweet, natural smell mingled with the faint hint of sickness hidden beneath the honey-lemon scent she always wore. His instinct was to both claim her and eradicate the sickness all at once. But to do that would steal away all her humanity. His mind whirled, ‘so be it’ and ‘just be done with it’ floated through his consciousness. He pulled her tightly to him, dropping his head to press his mouth against her throat.
Felicity whimpered, sliding her arms around his shoulders to hold him to her even more tightly.
“Felicity! Open the door, child, I’ve brought you tea and sandwiches,” Mamaie called.
Enthrall snarled and felt like he’d dropped three stories to the ground, the disappointment of return to reality was so great. Slowly he pulled his fangs from the soft scrape they were leading across her skin. He licked the light red trail they’d left behind and raised his head to look into her eyes once more. The tip of his tongue came out to trace the line of her lower lip, then he kissed her again.
“Felicity? Are you in there?” Mamaie called again, this time knocking on the door.
Felicity tried to answer, “Yes,” but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again, “Yes, Mamaie. Just one moment, I’m not dressed.”
Enthrall kissed her lips once more. “Perhaps it’s best left as it is for now.” He pressed his lips to her temple, then let her go, stepping back from her. His eyes ran the length of her body before raising to meet hers again; then, he walked back to the door that separated their rooms. He paused there and turned back to look at her. “Mine,” he said again, brooking no argument from her, nor even waiting for her reply. Then he closed the door and was gone as though he’d never been there.
Chapter 5
Felicity hurried to the towel Enthrall had thrown to the floor and picked it up, holding it to her chest.
“Come in, Mamaie,” she managed to call out hoarsely, her eyes still pinned to the door Enthrall had disappeared through.
The door opened, and Mamaie entered the room balancing a dinner tray on one hand while opening the door with the other. “What took you so long? This tray just keeps getting heavier!”
“Sorry, Mamaie. I wasn’t dressed.”
Mamaie eyed her suspiciously. “Yes, well, you still aren’t.” Mamaie walked over to the small sitting area near the window that looked out over the grounds at the back of the estate. She set the tray down on the small table and poured hot water from the pitcher into the teacup. “Here, Lici, come drink this.”
Felicity smiled, cocking her head to the side, “Lici?”
Mamaie watched Felicity as she spoke, “I heard Enthrall call you Lici. Thought it sounded a lot friendlier than Felicity. Felicity is so formal. Do you mind?”
Felicity’s face warmed with a soft blush. “No, I rather like it.”
“Good. Then, come eat, Lici. You must keep your strength up.”
“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
“Are you sure? I’ve noticed dark circles under your eyes, and you seem to be moving a little slower than when you first came here.”
“I’m pretty sure. I just get so tired so easily, and the coughing when I get out of breath is troublesome, but since you’ve been feeding me regularly I do feel a bit better.” Felicity gifted Mamaie with a bright smile to allay her concerns.
“We’ll leave it for now, but if you don’t chase the cough away soon, we’ll get you to a doctor.”
“Oh, but, that’s not necessary…” Felicity protested.
But Mamaie was already walking toward the door, her hand waving in the air above her head. “Don’t argue with me. We’ll see to your health if that cough persists.”
The door opened and closed firmly behind Mamaie as she exited.
Felicity stood there, her mouth still opened for her response, but Mamaie had left so quickly she’d been unable to answer. “Don’t argue with me,” she mimicked as she made herself comfortable on the settee and picked up her teacup. She took a sip and hummed at the warmth that immediately took over her entire being. She didn’t know what kind of tea it was, but it was her new favorite. She chose a small finger sandwich from the tray that Mamaie had left for her and sat back, nibbling on it before sipping her tea again.
Enthrall stood leaning against the door that separated his room from Felicity’s. He snickered when he heard her mimicking Mamaie’s order to not argue with her. His excellent hearing allowed him to hear the air she blew gently across the hot tea, and the hum of appreciation as she sipped it. His sharp sense of smell allowed him to scent the tea the moment Mamaie had poured the hot water over it. He knew it was the tea that he’d helped her prepare for Felicity. The tea that carried his very essence in it. Mamaie had decided that if he wasn’t ready to claim her right away, a bit of his blood may help to fortify Felicity until she was ready to be claimed by Enthrall. So, he’d allowed her to bleed him — only a small amount by his measure, but it was sufficient to allow her to have enough to dry and then mix flakes of it with her medicinal herbs to make a tea for Felicity to sip several times each day. He wasn’t sure Felicity would be able to stomach it, but from the sounds of it, she was enjoying it.
Enthrall closed his eyes and thought about how she’d felt in his arms, the taste of her lips on his. And how close he’d come to ruining everything by losing control and taking her before she was ready only moments earlier. He couldn’t do that. She didn’t know what he was, and he had no doubt that she’d run screaming from him the moment she knew if he didn’t gradually lead her into it. He knew from experience that even those who should have loved you, saw you as an abomination when they learned you were a Vampire. He would have to be more careful in the future. He didn’t want her to ever fear him.
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
Ata’halne slowly became aware of his surroundings. He could feel the warmth on his face from the sunlight shining on his closed eyelids. He could smell the food cooking over the fire he also smelled the smoke from. He could hear a child playing nearby and the creaking of the runners of a rocking chair as it slowly rocked back and forth. He struggled to open his eyes and found everything around himself blurry and out of focus. But he smiled in spite of it. He was alive. He shifted and realized he was lying in a soft, warm bed. He was covered by heavy quilts. The sun stung as it shone in his eyes, but he didn’t care. He blinked, trying to focus. Then he heard a softly whispered, “Do not fret, you are safe here.”
Ata’halne turned his face toward the voice and squinted to be able to better see the owner of that whisper. He could make out jet black hair that seemed to go on forever, dark eyes with… was that a reflection of the cooking fire in them? And creamy, pale skin. This woman was beauty personified.
“Where am I?” he asked, a bit of his natural Native American accent bleeding through his words. On hearing his voice, he immediately smiled, wide and proud. It had been a long, long time since he’d been able to speak little more than his broken, raspy words at another being.
“You are in my home. You are safe. Rest easy. It will take quite a while to regain your strength, but you are safe here until then,” Aubreigne whispered.
“Who are you?” he asked, trying to sit up but failing to do so, and falling back against the pillows beneath him.
“I’m Aubreigne. Are you hungry?”
>
Ata’halne licked his lips. He hadn’t been able to eat food in so long he’d almost forgotten how to swallow. But he did so now, salivating at the thought of actual food. “Yes. Very hungry.”
“Here, allow me to help you sit up, then I’ll feed you.”
Aubreigne went to Ata’halne and helped him sit up. Once she was sure he was steady, she reached behind him to fluff the pillows and stack them higher behind him, so they could support his body more in a sitting position. Then she hooked her arms under his and helped ease him back further toward the head of the bed, not letting go until he was comfortably resting against the pillows.
“Thank you, Aubreigne,” he said, wondering at the warmth of her hands against his skin. Surely she had a fever for her skin to be so warm. Or, perhaps it had just been so long since he was able to be touched in such a manner by another person, he just thought her warmer than usual.
Aubreigne tucked the blankets around his waist then turned to her small kitchen. She’d cooked the stew over the hearth, allowing it to simmer most of the day, rather than worry with the wood burning stove. Sometimes it was just easier to do things the old way. She filled a glass with cool water and set it out on the counter, then went to her cupboard and took from it a wooden bowl and a spoon. She ladled the stew into the bowl, then gathered the glass of water, a small hand towel and spoon before heading back over to Ata’halne.
She put the glass of water on the floor beside her, then laid the towel on the bed next to him.
Ata’halne watched as she got ready to feed him.
“May I have some water first, please?” he asked, eyeing the water.
“Of course,” she answered. Aubreigne placed the spoon in the bowl, then leaned over for the water. She handed it to him and watched as he tried to drink it. He was shaking so badly that he almost spilled it. Hurriedly, she placed the bowl on the bed beside him and reached out for the glass. “Here, let me help.” She took the glass from him and held it for him while gently tilting it so he could drink from the glass. He drank down almost half of the cool, refreshing water. He leaned back, licking his lips. “Surely, there is no better taste than cool, fresh water.” Ata’halne smiled at Aubreigne appreciatively.
She smiled softly back. “Here, let’s see if you can eat a bit.” She scooped up a spoonful of the rich, brown stew, careful to include carrots, potatoes and meat in the bite and held it out to him. He struggled to lean forward enough to comfortably take a bite, so she stood, turned her body just so and took a seat beside him, though facing him, on the bed.
Ata’halne closed his eyes, savoring the flavor of the food in his mouth. “I was wrong. This is the best taste.”
“I suspect if I fed you dirt, you may think it tasty since it’s been so long.”
He shook his head, laughing. “Perhaps. But I think not.”
After he’d eaten his food and she’d gotten him two more glasses of water, he started getting antsy, fidgeting where he reclined in bed.
“Can I get you something else?” she asked, concerned.
He looked around the room — it was a small, two-room cottage. “I have to go.”
“You aren't strong enough to leave yet. Rest for a while, then if you wish to leave, you can.”
“No. You don’t understand, I need to go. Do you have an outhouse? Or a particular area?”
“Oh! Yes, come along. I’ll help you.”
Together they managed to get him to his feet. Halfway to the outhouse situated behind the house, Murder showed up.
Aubreigne was looking down at Ata’halne’s feet and didn't notice that Murder had arrived. But she did notice that her new friend stopped walking. She looked up at him and found him staring across the way. She followed his eyes and found Murder standing, watching them.
“All is well, Murder,” Aubreigne called out.
Murder nodded, but stood still, his arms crossed over his chest while he watched them.
“Perhaps you could help?” she asked, a snark to her tone.
Murder’s dark face split into a grin. He respected Aubreigne — he always had. She was not the least bit intimidated by him. He stepped forward and approached them both. “I could. If it’s appreciated.”
“It is appreciated,” Ata’halne said, clearly.
“Very well,” Murder answered. He shooed Aubreigne away and took her place beside the Windigo-Man. In a matter of moments, Murder had him all the way to the outhouse and closed inside it.
He waited outside the closed door with Aubreigne.
“So, I’m guessing you don’t need me to kill him?”
Aubreigne grinned, laughing lightly. “No, thank you. We are just fine.”
When Ata’halne emerged from the outhouse, Murder wasted no time in getting him back to the house.
“Do you need help bathing him?” Murder asked Aubreigne.
“I can bathe myself,” Ata’halne answered.
“Can you now? Just like you got to the outhouse alone?” Murder asked, haughtily.
“I’m a little weak. But in a few days, I should be able to do for myself. Already I feel so much better.”
Murder just looked at him, then swung his attention to Aubreigne. “I was asking you. Do you need any more help?”
“No, thank you, Murder. I think I’ve got it.”
“Alright, then. But if you need me, call. I’m staying close by just in case.” Murder didn’t wait for her to answer, he just turned and walked out of the door.
“If you’re hungry, come back for dinner!” Aubreigne called after him.
When she turned back to Ata’halne, he was watching her, a look of wonder on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Your voice. It’s beautiful.”
Right away, she lowered her head and went about her business, cleaning the dishes he’d used earlier, completely shutting down on him.
“I didn’t mean to offend you. I just… you kept your voice low, so I was surprised when you called out and it was so…”
“Entrancing? Luring?” she asked, turning to face him with her hand on her hip, an attitude firmly in place.
Ata’halne thought about it for a moment. Then he shook his head. “No. Just really beautiful, almost like music. You should let people hear it more often.” Then he made himself a little more comfortable in bed, pulling out one of the pillows behind him so that he could recline more. “Do you mind if I rest a little more instead of bathing right away?”
“You don’t need to bathe unless you just want to. I cleaned you up while you were unconscious. But rest all you want. If you don’t, it will take longer to regain your strength.”
Aubreigne didn’t hear him answer, so she turned from washing her dishes to look at him. She was surprised to find him quietly watching her.
“You took me in, cleaned me, cared for me. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you, Aubreigne.”
“You are welcome… what is your name? I don’t even know.”
“I’m Ata’halne. It’s been a long time, but I am Ata once more. Finally.”
“Everyone deserves a chance, Ata’halne. Perhaps one day, someone will give me a chance as well.”
He noticed that she was once again speaking in hushed tones. “You can call me Ata. And you should use your regular voice,” he said, while closing his eyes, his tiredness overtaking him.
“There is a reason I don’t use my voice, Ata. You have no idea who I am.”
“You are my savior, Aubreigne. That is all I need to know.”
“And my voice,” she said in her normal tones. “Does it make you feel as though you must stay near me?”
He shook his head. “No. I just like the sound of it.”
A wrinkle formed between her brows, she was confused. The only men who didn’t feel the lure of her voice were mated ones. Perhaps he was mated. But, no one would mate a Windigo, and he’d been near no one but her since he’d been made human once more.
A soft snore left him, and she t
urned back to her cleaning, thinking on it again. She’d have to figure out why he wasn’t responding to her as all the others did. Surely it wasn’t a mating. Because if he was mated, she’d have to let him go, and she really didn’t want to do that.
Chapter 6
Enthrall stood outside the office after dinner, listening to Felicity council the new woman, Anna, on how best to separate herself from her husband and the possibilities for her own future. He smiled, listening to her build the woman up and give her hope. His Felicity was something special.
“But he’s my husband, ma’am. I had no choice but to do as he says.”
Felicity stood, pacing around her desk in frustration, trying desperately to find a way to reach the woman and make her understand. “Didn’t you ever have a dream? Want to do something or be someone different when you grew up?”
The woman looked down and shrugged. “People like me don’t have much opportunity, miss. We’re just lucky to have food to eat and a roof over our heads.”
Felicity had come from an educated, affluent background. She knew the woman had faced more in her short life than Felicity could ever imagine. She decided to try another route. “Anna, what about your kids? What if your son said he wanted to become a doctor, or your daughter wanted to become a teacher or a shop owner? And their spouse denied them that opportunity. Telling them instead they had to do nothing more than serve them. They weren’t allowed to see you anymore, and weren’t allowed to do anything at all that didn’t serve their spouse.”
Anna’s face became a stubborn mask while Felicity spoke.
“I would be very angry! I would tell them, you don’t let that person stop you from being what you want! You deserve happy! You’re smart, and you can be whatever you want to be!”
Felicity was smiling — she laughed while she clapped her hands and pointed directly at Anna. “Exactly! Yes! That is exactly my point. And so is it the same for you. You can be anything you want to be. So you’ve got a bad marriage to shake loose from — I can help you with that. You’ve got two little ones depending on you — we can help you with that. Don’t ever allow someone to make you be something you don’t want to be. Don’t ever allow anyone, not even the man you love, to tell you what you will and won’t do in life. You have as much right as everyone else in this world. You make your choices, not them. Because good, bad or ugly, you have to live with the results of those choices, not anyone else.”
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