by Tanith Frost
It takes him a minute to open the gap, which he holds open so I can step through. It takes longer to close it.
“Not made for fast escapes, is it?” I say.
“No. Midday food shed raids, for the most part. When we don’t have to worry about being bothered by your sort.”
We don’t talk much as we walk through the woods. He avoids the road, and I don’t know any other way to get to his pack’s land, so I follow a step behind. The toe of my boot catches as I’m stepping over a fallen tree, and he shoots me a worried glance.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, but he slows his pace.
The cluster of cabins is silent as we approach.
“Where’s your pack?” I ask.
“Gone. We’re not stuck like the females are right now, and my pack spends enough time as wolves that they should all be fine for the next few weeks. Those who don’t have non-sanctuary homes are staying with those who do.”
My throat tightens. “Then why are you still here?”
He’s about to open the door to a small cabin, but he pauses. “I was going to leave,” he says, quietly enough that I have to step closer to catch every word. “But it felt wrong.” He looks back at me, and his eyes pick up the glow of the moon. “It felt like I was leaving a pack member behind. Alpha werewolves don’t do that. As long as everyone else is safe, we go back for whoever isn’t. That’s not an instinct I’m inclined to fight.”
Goosebumps prickle over my arms. “I thought maybe it was because you were being loyal to your species. That you needed me to help save the others.”
He leans a shoulder against the door and shoves it hard. “That would probably have been a less awkward answer, wouldn’t it?”
The cabin is small and looks lived-in. Homey. Not the kind of place that seems like it’s trying to impress anyone. It’s just one room, with a small kitchen to the right of the door and a sitting area to the left, a bed in a back corner, and a table with four chairs clustered around it.
Silas lights an oil lamp and sets it on a three-legged stool beside the ratty plaid sofa.
“No TV,” he says. “Hope you weren’t looking to relax that way.”
None of the werewolves have access to electricity or running water. I look at the sturdy pump over the sink and the gas stove in the kitchen, and I realize I hadn’t thought about how hard their lives must be out here, especially for those who choose to stay all the time. I knew we were providing drinking water and propane. I just hadn’t pictured what that meant for them.
And I thought we had it rough in the compound.
He watches me looking around. “We do have hot water in the main cabin for showers. Well water, propane heated. It does the job.”
“What do you do for fun?”
He nods to a shelf in the sitting area, which has a few library books stacked on it. Thrillers, a horror novel, the kind of stuff you might pick up at a decent airport bookstore.
“No Shakespeare,” he says with a wry smile. “Just stuff I get the guys to pick up for me when they come in from outside.”
“I wasn’t judging. They’re better than what we have up at the compound.”
I seat myself on the sofa and sink deep into the cushions. I’d sort of expected the wolves’ personal cabins to smell like dog, but everything here is very clean. The oil lamp has its own scent that mixes with the fresh smell of spruce and the heavy odour of moss and rotting leaf litter from the forest. It reminds me of summer camp. Vacation. But this is his life.
“So what do you think?” he asks, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “You have a big plan?”
“No. This is more than I’d hoped for.” I lean my head back and close my eyes. I could fall asleep here. “I don’t believe Irene’s pack is guilty.”
“Because they were nice to you?”
I open one eye. “How did you know that?”
“I have sources.” He sits on the heavy coffee table, facing me. “I wouldn’t say my pack gets along with Irene’s. But I don’t hate them, and I don’t let my pack start shit with them. We live and let live. We don’t pass gossip over the back fence, but I can talk to them if I—Aviva?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I realize I’m staring at his throat. Now that we’re safe in here and I’m not focused on getting through the dark forest without breaking my neck, now that he’s sitting close to me, it’s becoming distracting. He’s not human. Feeding on a werewolf is strictly forbidden. My instincts don’t seem to care. The life in him feels like a human’s, though wilder. Like it’s exactly what I need.
I wonder what he tastes like.
I run my tongue over my fangs and ignore the way just thinking about blood wakes me up and makes me feel stronger. My body is drawing on its deepest resources, preparing to hunt.
“Sorry,” I tell him, squeezing my eyes shut to break the trance I seem to be falling into as I follow the slow rhythm of his pulse. I offer what I hope is a reassuring smile as I open them again. “I haven’t eaten in way too long, and I’m getting a bit wonky in the head.”
He swallows hard, creating fascinating movements in his throat.
I tear my gaze away and look back at the bookshelf.
“There’s nothing in my cupboards you could have, is there?” he says.
“No. Don’t worry. You’re safe.” I make myself look at his eyes and smile. “I’ve been this hungry before. I’ve made mistakes, but I won’t with you. I can control myself.”
He reaches out and touches my cheek with one finger, trailing it slowly down my jaw, never breaking eye contact. He leans in and brushes his lips gently against mine.
I jerk back against the cushions like I’ve been shocked. My eyes lock on his throat, where his pulse flutters like he’s afraid. “You can’t do that.”
He moves slowly, sits beside me and leans back against the arm of the sofa. “I want to help you.”
My mouth floods with poisonous saliva that I swallow back. “Silas, that’s…”
I’m trying to think of a reason not to, and can’t—not aside from vampire laws that seem arbitrary and unnecessarily restrictive in the face of my hunger. It’s a generous offer, especially from someone like him. He’s called me a pack member. He stayed to break me out instead of fleeing when he had the chance. But this… an alpha werewolf exposing his throat to me, trusting me, submitting to me when I’m at my weakest…
My unbeating heart twists painfully within me. He’s beautiful, scars and all. More desirable than anyone I’ve ever fed on, more appealing than he was the night when he wore nothing but that stupid blanket and shamelessly flirted with me.
“Please,” he says. “If you need this, do it now. It’s not easy for me to offer. I don’t want to change my mind.”
I try to move slowly, but my body takes over, and in an instant I’m on top of him, straddling his hips, hands on his shoulders. He jumps, startled, but doesn’t run.
I run my fingers through his hair. I want so much to just take him, but I won’t. I can’t let him feel used. He’s offering a gift, and not one that can be easy for him.
If the two of us fucking was a bad idea, I can’t imagine what this is. Sacrilege, maybe.
I trail a fingernail over his throat and lean in, brushing my lips over the spot where the blood flows so close to the surface. My body trembles with anticipation. I’m too weak to even notice my power recoiling from his. All I feel is my hunger.
“Are you sure?” I ask him.
He takes a deep breath and rests a hand lightly on the back of my neck. Not something stock back home would be bold enough to do, but I’ll forgive this alpha for taking some measure of control, even if it will be an illusion as soon as I have some of his strength in me.
“I can’t solve this without you,” he says. “I want to see you strong. I want us to end this.”
I don’t know if this means the murders or the feud between our species, and I don’t care. He said yes, and
that’s all that matters right now.
I sink my fangs into his throat. His hand tightens around the back of my neck, as though he’s ready to throw me off. I should have warned him about the pain, but it’s too late now. I pull back and drink the fast-flowing blood, and he relaxes as my poison enters his system.
It only takes a moment for me to realize exactly how different he is from a human. He carries the same life energy in him, but there’s something rich and wild I’ve never tasted before. It fills me with strength that’s as wrong and thrilling as it feels each time our powers meet. My strength surges back, my awareness sharpens. Something feels like it’s battling inside of me as my power returns—his energy against mine, maybe, or the shock of this strange blood.
I fight the urge to stop. I need this. And unnerving as it feels, I want this.
His body arches under me and he lets out a growl that’s more canine than human. I press harder against his shoulders. He’s not trying to throw me off, but some dark part of me wants him to understand that he couldn’t even if he wanted to. We’re playing my game now. I lose myself in him as I feed.
His blood may not be a perfect fit for my appetite, but the life that flows in him is more than enough to satisfy me. I feel restored more quickly than I would with a human, long before I’m done enjoying the heavy, strange taste of him. His heartbeat hasn’t faltered yet.
In fact, he doesn’t seem weakened at all, and he’s obviously enjoying this far more than he expected when he stoically offered himself to me. He’s hardened beneath me, and moves his hands to cup my breasts as I feed. I grind my hips against him and realize that I’m as turned on as he is.
I’ve never fed from someone I was screwing. I’ve thought about it with the humans at the club, wondered what it might be like to taste that kind of pleasure in them. But I desired their blood. Their emotion. Not the sex itself.
I have entirely different reasons for wanting Silas.
I pull away and work at his belt, my fingers far more nimble than they would have been just minutes ago. He reaches for my shirt at the same time, and before long we’re both naked. I press my lips to his, letting him taste his blood on my tongue, mixed with my poison.
He positions himself under me and pulls my hips down. I groan as he enters me, and after I let him thrust into me a few times I hold him down, grinding against his pubic bone, letting pleasure wash through me as I lick gently at the blood that’s flowing down his neck. Not feeding properly now, just tasting him, savouring the pleasure he’s experiencing. There’s no fear in him, no uncertainty that I can sense. No drug we offer at the club has ever brought one of my victims to heights like this.
I arch my back and push harder against him, letting myself be carried away. For a moment there’s no cabin, no conflict. Nothing but bright pastel colours behind my closed eyelids that reflect the intense sensations overcoming my body.
I’m only distracted for a matter of seconds, but it’s all he needs. We crash to the floor together, knocking the heavy coffee table over, and he kisses me long and deep as he pins me beneath him. The carpet is soft, but it burns my skin as he pushes me hard against it. I could fight back, prove how strong I am now.
But there’s no need. He gave himself to me, and I give myself to him, wrapping my legs around his waist, inviting him deeper.
Blood still flows from his neck. He closes his eyes, lost in his own bliss, and I pull him closer, clamping my lips over the twin wounds left by my fangs, letting his blood flow down my throat as he shudders, releasing himself into me.
The pleasure’s not mine, but it explodes through me, pushing me toward the edge again as I taste it in his blood. For a moment I wonder whether we’ve done something so wrong that we’ve actually broken the web of power we’re both part of. Then I become lost in his climax, no longer capable of thought as I go over.
Silas collapses, catching himself on his forearms before he crushes me. He rolls onto his back, pulling me with him, arms wrapped around me.
“Did I die?” he asks, and I laugh.
“I think you’re safe. We should put something on those wounds, though.”
He touches his throat and studies the blood on the ends of his fingers. “My god. That felt so fucking dirty.”
I prop myself up against his broad chest and look down at him. I’m not sure who is whose conquest at this point. It doesn’t seem to matter. We both got more than we wanted.
His blood is bright against his golden skin. A fraction of my bliss leaves me as a chill passes over my own. It shouldn’t bother me. Blood is life. It’s beautiful.
And I don’t like seeing his leaking onto the carpet.
Chapter Twenty-Two
For a while we’re both content to let the world turn without us, enjoying the silence of the cabin and the sweet ache of our muscles. Silas is as dozy and sex-drunk as I am, but at least he doesn’t seem as depleted by my feeding on him.
I’m glad. I may have my strength back, but I need him at his best. The world won’t wait forever.
“Come on, big boy,” I tell him. “We’ve got work to do.”
He grumbles, but releases me.
“You feeling okay?” I ask him as we sit back on the sofa a few minutes later. We haven’t bothered to dress yet, but he’s found a white rag to press against his throat. I pull out the blanket that’s shoved into the corner of the sofa and toss it over our legs.
“Incredible,” he says.
“Not weak at all?”
He shrugs, and I hide a smile behind my hand. He wouldn’t tell me if he was. He might be willing to submit himself to my fangs, but there are some things his pride won’t allow.
I lean against him. I can’t help it. I can handle the cold, but it’s nice to be warm.
“Truth or dare?” he asks, sounding a little groggy now that he’s relaxing.
“Truth.”
“Best you’ve ever had?”
I consider a saucy answer, something that won’t feed his ego. I can’t do it. “I’ve never felt anything quite like that,” I admit. Not that there’s a ton of competition. Living sex has receded to a footnote in my memory. It was never as good or meaningful as I wanted it to be, and I always felt too guilty to really enjoy it. Since I died, there’s only been Daniel (incredible, if infrequent and at times confusing), and Silas. “I’ve never tasted someone while he was…”
“Experiencing an orgasm on steroids?” he asks, and gives me a smug, satisfied smile. “I thought people were crazy for voluntarily feeding vampires, but even when we had our clothes on, that was something amazing.”
“It was.” I sit up and scoot over to the other end of the couch. We can’t do this. Can’t bond. Can’t act like this is something sustainable. Whatever he says, whatever his motivation for staying, I’m not a part of his pack. Not his mate. We’ve already complicated things beyond reason. Much as I hated Daniel’s flight from my room after we screwed, I get it.
“Truth or dare?” I ask.
“Truth.” He closes his eyes. “I’m too tired for a dare.”
“Rest up, buddy. We have work to do.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Do you think Irene’s pack is behind the killings?”
“No.” He rolls his head to look at me, eyes halfway closed but sharply focused. “And I know what that implies. But I don’t have information on what Joseph or his pack are up to. I don’t know whether it’s a rogue wolf getting away with it behind his back, whether he knows…” He looks away. “I would know if I had stayed.”
I lean forward and place a hand on his forearm. “Can you tell me why you left?”
He’s silent for what feels like ages, thinking. “I still wonder sometimes whether I made the right decision. I could have stayed. Waited. Tried to change things after he was gone.”
I cross my legs under me and settle deeper into the soft blanket. His blood is still working its way into my system. I’m going to let myself enjoy the hot glow of his particular life force a
s it feeds my body and my own power. It’s strange, though. I’m responding to his low voice like I haven’t before, like it’s calling to something that’s now a part of me. I’ve never had this feeling with a human. Vampires take life, make it our own. We don’t let others occupy us or change us.
I hope it doesn’t linger. This would be difficult to explain to Miranda when I meet her again.
Or Daniel.
“It started with Irene,” Silas says, and I relax into his voice as it echoes through me. “I wasn’t here when she showed up, or the next few females after her. I’m still not completely clear on the details of what happened to them, back when there weren’t enough of them to band together for protection. Even after Joseph took me in, he kept me away from his pack for the most part. So I only saw the good side. Watched them running through open fields under the moon, sat with them and helped them cook when they were in their human form. Learned some very inappropriate jokes.” His mouth curves in a little smile as he remembers. “I felt safe with them. The more educated ones helped with my schooling, others taught me how to fish and how to survive in the forest, even before I could shift.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It was. But as time passed, I started to see how things really were in the pack, how unbalanced it was, how Joseph liked having control over everyone. How angry he got around the full moon when the females would disappear together.”
His smile is gone now. “And then one month, they didn’t come back. Joseph was livid, of course. We got into a bit of a fight about it.” He frowns. “Not a bit of a fight. A knock-down, drag-out battle. I lost, of course. I was a cocky little shit, but I was still a kid, barely old enough for my changes to have started. I told him he couldn’t expect anyone to stick around if all he did was hold them down under his boots and grind their faces into the dirt.”
