For the greater good. Or something like that. The vampires had mentioned it probably a hundred times in the last two months. Rorick had sat through maybe a dozen meetings with their leadership, been in neutral human territory for days now. He could barely remember the last time he went for a run. Could feel his body itching to shift, even partially, just to let out the tension. But, this was all for that greater good. Everything was ever since the day he became the Alpha for his pack. Things had been unstable, dangerous. Now, they were starting to become normal.
Not less dangerous, but at least he felt like he knew what he was doing. Weres and vampires had been at each other's throats well before he was born, centuries before. And so many of his ancestors had been happy to lean into it. So, Weres died left and right, somehow twice as often as vampires despite being physically stronger. Things were out of hand. Always. And that had been when Rorick decided to try things the old way. Call back on a tradition that had been an attempt to keep the peace.
Vampires used a collateral system. Shipped children off to serve as insurance against war. Fucking children. That was absolutely not how they were doing things. And not in such a useless and temporary way. No, Rorick had gone with a different tradition. One he could actually sleep after agreeing to. And that was how he had ended up standing at the end of an aisle, wearing a stupid fucking suit, feeling like he was about to crawl out of his skin.
The entire crowd as silent as the grave, watching each other more than they watched the altar. Waiting for the other side to attack. Rorick felt the whole thing was a little stupid. They were here to make a peace agreement. None of them had to do anything, except to serve as witnesses. Rorick was the one throwing away any chance he had at a normal life. He was the one marrying a vampire. Another sacrifice to add to the list. It could be worse, sure. The pictures had been flattering to say the least. However, that mattered very little when she would likely never want to be in the same room.
Everything seemed to pause for a moment, like an intake of breath. The security team were all humans, all neutral. He felt like things were out of his control, which was a frustrating feeling before he had agreed to all of this, and significantly more so now. He could not even control when the ceremony started. All he could do was watch the door as Thane, his "best man" for this very human ceremony, leaned in to tell him they were starting.
Then, she walked in and it was like the collective held breath was let out. Everyone relaxed, if only a fraction. It was happening. This was not some complicated set-up, not some plot to take vengeance for a blood debt. Both sides had provided their collateral. And now, they were going to be married. It felt like a bit of a death sentence. While he could probably try to live a normal life, try to find a partner, a real one, there would always be this string connecting him to a vampire. He could only hold her gaze as she walked.
If he was honest, the photos had not done her justice. Blonde hair, a pixie face that was cute at worst and beautiful at least. The plunging neckline of her dress was flattering, and he found himself following the line of it despite the wearer being his mortal enemy. It was stupid, all of it. After convincing himself they would hardly see one another, appreciating her appearance was superficial and stupid. So, he turned away, showed her his back as he waited for her to meet him and begin this stupid marriage. Maybe it was because he felt ragged in his suit, plain black with a complete lack of flourish. No tie, collar undone, the only thing it flattered was his rich brown skin, the white shirt underneath making his natural color glow.
His human ears felt clunky and useless compared to his Were ones, but he still heard her footsteps approach over the sound of the music. They could say the words and leave, pretend to enjoy a reception he had no idea why they were having. Then, they could get on with a lifetime of hating each...
The scent hit him like a hammer. While his hearing was pulled in his full shift, smell was at full strength. It was like someone had doused him in cold water and boiled him at the same time. Everything in his intelligent brain turned to absolute mush. He turned his head to look at her, at Keres according to her file, and breathed deep. His pupils blew out wide, consuming his entire iris as he drank in the smell of her like it was a replacement for air. Like he needed it to live. Cardamom, caramel, and cinnamon, but more than that. It was sweet and warm and perfect. It took every single bit of his self-control to not just wrap his arms around her and breath it in. There was only one word that a Were could think when something hit them like that. And it was the most insane thing he could ever imagine.
Little girls often plan their wedding day, dreaming of what the event will be like. At least, human little girls. Keres was not human, though she’d grown up among them for the majority of her life. The notion of romance, of finding that forever person? It was as foreign to her as the man who was to be her husband to-be. Keres wasn’t completely clueless. He was a man. An alpha and werewolf. Keres also knew that he and his kind hated her and her kind. Vampires and werewolves had been at each other’s throat since, well forever. A millennia of war, with humans caught in the middle.
Staring at her reflection, Keres almost didn't recognize herself. Her pale skin was luminescent, the purple of her eyes almost glowing in the sunset. The mass of icy white hair had been pulled into elegant braids, twisted into a bun, with tendrils falling around her face. Diamonds had been woven into her hair, catching the light. The slender tops of her pointed ears on full display. Her skin had been left plain, made to look dewy and almost virginal. The idea was not missed on her, though she highly doubted her husband planed on consummating their marriage.
It wasn’t exactly a sham marriage, but close enough to it. A marriage that would cement the ties between two factions at war. It was meant to broker peace between them. To put old hostilities to rest. It was a diplomatic marriage, yet there was a small part of her that wondered if she’d see the next sunset.
The wedding planner, Harriet, flitted to and from, toying with the folds of her lace dress. Fussing with her hair. As her makeup artist left, she approached with a small pot of green and Keres couldn’t help lifting her brow. “What is that for?” Harriet tutted and applied it just under her jaw along her neck, blending it in till there was a faint green hue to her skin. It was repeated on the other side and along her inner elbows and wrists. “I think they are going to know I am not a were, you know?” Her voice was sardonic. “Trust me, your husband will appreciate this.” Harriet hummed and straightened. Amethyst eyes blinked at her, once before Keres signed and nodded.
Not like it was Harriet’s fault she was about to marry a complete stranger. No, that was her father’s doing. When she’d been eight, she had been selected as collateral to the human delegation. Collateral was a system that humans and vampires used, to be sure that no hostilities would break out. If they did? Well the collateral was first to die. Each child was the child of someone important. Her father, the current ruler of the vampires had elected her to go. Even at eight, she could have told them it was a pointless exchange. Her father didn’t care if she lived or died.
Keres. Spirit of violent death. She’d been given a cursed name for an act she had no control over. The death of her mother upon her birth. Named by a man that hated her. It wasn’t blatant, obvious hatred, but it showed in a thousand little cuts. Being sent to live with humans was just one of the many. In truth? He’d been glad to be rid of her and they both knew it.
Growing up with humans had not been better. They feared her and resented her all in the same breath. Tutors, caregivers and security, they all treated her the same. Like a rabid dog who would bite when you let your guard down. Keres had wanted one thing. To be loved. It was the hope of a child’s heart and one that had never come to fruition. So, she’d grown up guarded, sarcastic and to be fair, more than a little bratty. It was her way at rebelling, at taking control of what little she could. Ten long years and then, she was back with her father who instantly had turned around and offered her like some prized sow to the werewolves and their ridiculous deal. Never once had she been asked. Never once had her concerns been addressed. Keres was little more than a doll.
So as night descended around them and Harriet told her that they were ready, Keres turned away from the mirror in a swirl of skirts and headed barefooted along the cool stone. The wedding was outside, under the glow of a waxing moon, with the stars glittering down on them. It was beautiful, Keres had to admit. A gentle breeze toying with a lock of hair. It was beautiful as long as you ignored the stoney faced gathering separated by an isle.
On one side were her people. Not that they had considered her one of them in a long time, if the human fucker title was anything to go by. Annabeth, the girl who was one year her senior, had called her that and she watched Keres with magenta eyes. All vampires had some shade of purple for their eyes. That, pointed ears and fangs told the world what they were. Oh and their blood? It too was purple. Werewolves could turn into.. Well wolves and their blood was green. That was the absolute extent of her knowledge of her husband to-be’s race. It was pitifully lacking.
The man himself stood at the end of the aisle, watching her for a moment before turning his back to her. She had seen pictures of course, but they had not done him justice. His loose hair curled in the breeze, a deep, midnight blue. It seemed brighter, for his dusky, tanned skin. His eyes, in the picture, had seemed almost brown, but even from a distance, she could see that they were not brown at all.
Stopping beside him, she looked up into his face. Keres was a tiny thing, her head forced to tip back a fair bit to look into his face. She was five feet even and her husband? He had to be at least six feet. Closer now though, she could see his eyes were golden, like a harvest moon. She watched as he inhaled, then his eyes blew out and she frowned. Had he sniffed her? With how rigid he went beside her, she wondered if to him she smelled bad?
It would be a shame if so. For her husband? She couldn’t smell him, like he or humans could. She could hear his blood though and it sang to her. Sweet and strong. It was perhaps his power or maybe all weres blood sounded like this. Whatever it was, Keres loved it.
The ceremony began and her mind was pulled from the man beside her to the priest before them.
It was like trying to breath while sitting in a house fire. The most deliciously intoxicating house fire to ever exist, but still just as difficult. Every inhale was difficult. Not because it was unpleasant. Because if he breathed to deep, it was like someone knocked him on his ass. Maybe his house fire analogy was falling apart. He was having difficulty completing complex thoughts at the moment. She was beside him, head tilted up to take him in, and he could only stare down. The dog jokes would never end if he started to drool, but how else was he supposed to feel? No one had warned him a vampire could even be a mate for a werewolf. Probably not likely to occur when they were at war for most of the last thousand years.
Somewhere close to him, a whole wedding ceremony was starting. A political farce created out of a human tradition to bind together a werewolf and a vampire. It was all already a joke. Why did someone have to add this extra punchline? There was only one solution, which was to stop breathing. So, Rorick held it his breath as the officiant, a human in her later years, began to go over the importance of marriage. He could survive this. He just needed to get through the vows and never be near Keres again. There was no way he would allow her to steal everything all at once, even if he found it unlikely she wanted to be here.
A small glance toward her. That was all it took to be a fatal mistake. A splash of green in his peripheral vision had him turning his head. Oh, someone had done their research. Or had found very misguided rumors. Each one of her scent spots, places where a werewolf would smell the strongest, the same spots that a mate would mark with their own scent so that others could tell from their mixing that they belonged to one another, was marked in green. For a true mating, one would mark those spots on the other, one by one. It took time. Was incredibly... intimate. Right now, it brought his animal instinct to the surface. Told him that he should mark those spots himself, wash away whoever had done it. In all of that, he forgot to not breath. Another full intake of her scent and he was almost on the floor. Almost on her. Rorick drifted closer, nearly reaching out for her. Thankfully, the officiant took that moment to look at him.
"Your rings."
It was a blessing in disguise, and another cruel joke. He turned to Thane, who looked deeply confused, and held out his hand. When the ring was placed in it, he caught that worrying look on his second's face and growled low and harsh. It was like a ripple through the crowd, making both sides shift with sudden unease. A quick glance had the werewolves settling immediately, a silent order to stand down. He turned back to Keres and held out a hand for her own.
When she surrendered it, he had intended to jam the ring on her finger and end it there. Instead, he lingered, holding her delicate wrist in his massive hand. Because right in front of him was one of those damned green marks. His thumb brushed over it for an eternity in a single second. Then, he swallowed hard and pushed the ring on with a complete lack of delicacy, dropping her hand like it burned.
The rest of the ceremony, he refused to so much as glance at Keres, holding a hand out for her to put his ring on and pulling it away when it was halfway on. The officiant was smart enough to not ask if they wished to kiss. Rorick was ashamed to say he nearly ran from that altar when the ceremony ended.
♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎
The reception began without him and when he arrived, it looked more like a siege. Both sides were separated by a moat of a dance floor. He had taken a break to get a drink or three and explain what happened to Thane, who would tell his key pack members. This was an issue, but one he could manage with distance and time. And, standing off to the side like her own people were just as volatile as the werewolves, was Keres. With a swallow, Rorick braced himself for her scent, ready for it now, and moved to stand beside her.
He wasn’t breathing. Did she really smell so bad? His posture was rigid and she fought a frown. From what she understood this was his idea. He had come to the vampire council with this plan. Then again, it was just a political move. He was tying himself to her, forsaking any real chance at a life? Or maybe he planned for them to be married only in name. Keres doubted he’d want anything to do with him if her scent offended him so much.
Eyes found her, but she didn’t notice as she stared at the woman proceeding over their wedding. It was a human tradition, as far as she knew. Vampires were very rarely monogamous, while they might have a partner, they never tied themselves down. Children were too rare and their species was dying. Not that it was popular knowledge. The good of the many came first. Always. It had been the excuse to send her to the humans and the excuse to wed her to a man that thought she smelled like a sewer.
A deep inhale made a muscle in her jaw twitch. Keres thought he was taking a deep breath to avoid breathing her in, not that he’d been so shocked by something he’d breathed unintentionally. Her eyes never left the woman before them until a small, subtle nod was offered to her by the officiant and she turned to face the man beside her. Rorick was lucky not much hurt her anymore, otherwise she might have cried. Oh, well that and vampires couldn’t cry. Something about their anatomy. Well then he was lucky her feelings were not hurt. The growl that slipped from him had not only Keres stiffening, but everyone present. One look had the wolves standing down, the vampires however were still as the grave, when no further threat came, they finally seemed to come alive once more.
Warmth enveloped her hand and she looked into his eyes as Rorick held out his hand for her own. They were beautiful, there was no other way to put it. The feather light touch of his thumb over her pulse made her heart do a funny little flip, his eyes focused on the green mark. Harriet had been right it seemed. As if he suddenly noticed what he was doing he shoved the ring unceremoniously on her finger. When it came to Keres putting the ring on his finger, he pulled his hand back before she’d even gotten it past his knuckle.
Jaw twitching she turned back to the officiant. No one requested that they kiss and as soon as the ceremony was over, he fled. She watched him before letting out a sigh. Well, she was now a married woman. Her eyes drifted down the black band that now stood out starkly on her slender finger. Diamond stood on either side of dark blue sandstone polished into a mirror like finish. The stone between the moons was the same as them, bigger and glittered like the night sky. “Beautiful.” The word whispered to no one.
♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎
Neither side would cross the dance floor, the weres ate, stoically, and the vampires glared. At least she had convinced Harriet to not serve blood in wine glasses to the vampire guests. Feeding was often done privately and never communally. Standing off to one side, she watched them. Harriet had tried, bless her, but oil and water never mixed.
Hi.
Startled, she looked toward him. He had chosen to stand beside her? Keres licked her lips before answering. “Hello.” At least no he wasn’t holding his breath. Biting the inside of her cheek she lifted a brow. “Do I really smell that bad?” She couldn’t help but ask. Her eyes were on their people, not him, watching the uneasy detente that had settled between them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harriet motioned to her and then mimed dancing and pointed at the dance floor.
“I think we are meant to have our first dance now,” Her voice was husky and she held her hand to him. When his own slipped into it, she found once again that the warmth of his skin was pleasant against her own cool body. Together the pair made their way to the dance floor and as they took their places, the music began.
Hand in hand, her other rested on his shoulder, fingers curled against the soft fabric of his jacket. Rorik took the lead, and they began to sway. It was her first dance, but she found it easy to follow his lead and the world slowly spun around them as if they’d been placed inside a music box. Even the music matched and a smile pulled at her lips, a giggle trapped in her throat.
Gods both real and fake damn him to whatever torment was real, he could not take his eyes off her mouth as her tongue swept out to wet her lips. This was torture. It was impossible to explain to her the depths of what went through his mind as soon as her scent hit him again. Vampires would not understand the concept of a mate. The visceral change that happened in his brain the moment Keres wrapped around it. There was never going to he a moment of his life where she did not feature in at least some part of his thoughts. And she was a vampire. A sworn enemy, despite this union being an attempt to curb that very problem. There was only one option. Distance. He could be polite tonight and move on.
Except, then she asked if she smelled that bad. Rorick felt his heart grip in his chest like every vampire here had taken a turn squeezing. He wanted to deny it. Tell her that was insane. That her scent was the blood in his veins and he would give that to her too if she wanted. Which would not help with creating distance. It would tangle her up in a very Were problem she could never understand and would not be responsible for. So, he gave her a non-commital shrug of his shoulders, pushing everything else down and locking it behind a little door. "I was just caught off-guard before."
Rorick would not have been able to name Harriet given a look at her face, but he now cursed all of her descendants to mildly uncomfortable fates. Slow dancing was also not distance, and the idea of standing that close to Keres sounded taxing on so many levels. Unfortunately, the outcome of this whole alliance might quite literally rely on this dance. At least he knew how. It was when she asked him to dance, though, that he really focused on her voice. Husky and sweet, just like her scent. It made it strangely easy to give in and take her hand, guiding her into the middle of the siege of glares.
His own hands eclipsed her small body, fingers forced to either go low and brush against her ass or go high and cover her almost from her hips to her breasts. High was really the only choice. But, as they settled into their slow sway, he found himself getting lost in it, in the feel of her in his hands, the scent of her coaxing him closer. They were nearly touching when he spoke. "At least no one killed each other today. That feels like a success." The smile on her face was soon mirrored on his own, his eyes drifting down to those marks again, thinking about maybe just touching the one at her collar. Making sure there was some hint of him...
The first thing that caught his attention was the flash of white clothes. Someone was making their way out onto the dance floor. A few couples had taken the hint and begun to move, but this was fast. Too fast. Then, metal flashed under the lights and he was moving before he could process. Keres was here. His mate. And someone was attacking. He wrapped one arm around her, pulled her flush against him with her face in his chest. The other hand grabbed the wrist attached to the blade. He was barely even aware there was a person attached until he felt the crunch of bone under his fingers and the human who had just tried to kill his mate crumpled to the found.
There was a sudden silence, then two of his pack were on the man, twisting him from Rorick's grip and pinning him to the ground. That was when he saw it. The green rising to the surface on his sleeve was of some concern, his arm serving to block the blade as it slid by, but worse was the purple. The pin prick of blood on Keres's shoulder that had his pupils expanding again, the urge to growl rising. It was only when he saw the vampires rising, starting to move, that he remembered what was happening. What he was doing. His arm released Keres and he took a step back.
"Are you alright?" Warm blood ran down his arm under his sleeve, but he still seemed unaware.
Had Rorick turned around and told her what had occurred, she might have looked at him as if he'd grown another head. If swearing to be with one person forever and always was strange to her, mates would have broken her brain. Even living with humans, seeing their relationships, she'd notably understood it. Eight years old was old enough to form solid ideas about the world around you. Even if the next decade had been around humans, her idea of family, of love? It was vampire all the way. Perhaps that was why she'd not had a relationship to speak of. Oh, no, it was the fact that she had fangs and was feared by the humans she'd known. Love was just a myth though, right? A construct of humans and weres.. Somehow, she knew this to be a lie, but without an example, how could she know.
A frown pulled between her brows and suspicion colored her features. "Right…" The sarcasm was thick. He had to prepare to smell her? For some reason the idea made her unhappy. Maybe it was because she liked the way he 'smelled' to her. Or the thought of not only him but his pack being forced to deal with the vampire girl who smelled like a sewer? "Okay then." The words held no pain, no emotion, just an emptiness. That was how she'd protected herself this far, why should now be any different.
Dancing was never high on her list of activities, but it was expected. Something that humans did at this stupid function. Something expected of them. A warm and enclosed her cooler, smaller hand and the shock of it, she found oddly pleasant. Guided to the floor, her slight form almost cuddled into his larger, firmer body. It was hard to not realize how they seemed to fit. Soft against his strength, cool against warmth..One large hand settled against the bare skin of her back as they swayed. "The night is still young." The words though were playful almost and she winced. "Sorry, that was in poor taste." The way he looked at her made her stomach swim uneasily. The feeling unknown and confusing.
Pulled suddenly against him, her gasp was muffled along his chest. The slice of the blade was sharp, but the edge razor sharp had her skin parting with ease. Behind her the human crumpled and after a stunned moment, both sides moved into action. Around them sound erupted and she found herself looking up into his eyes. Blood, purple and vibrant as her eyes darkened the creamy lace, his eyes focused on the spot. He held her so tight and then suddenly he was gone and she felt his absence. Licking her lips, she nodded. "I am.." She looked to her shoulder and frowned. It wasn't the worst attempt on her life she'd been through.. Her eyes fell on his arm as deep green blood soaked through his sleeve. "Are you.. Alright?" She nodded to his arm, a hand reaching out to apply pressure.
Pressure would help the blood clot, help it stop bleeding, but likely? Her husband would need stitches. Husband… the word had come so easily with their vows, not that it meant anything to her. "Shee, I was right though, the night had still been young enough.." She tried to make a silly joke as she helf his arm tighter. His own people moving closer, the unfriendly looks making her stomach tighten, bit this time with uncertainty and a slight tinge of fear.
There was a strange apathy to his new wife. Keres seemed to deflect to humor and sarcasm like it was second nature. He was no expert on vampires, but they usually seemed to come off as arrogant schemers, not someone who made jokes about their wedding guests killing one another. And, despite her sudden worry that the joke would bother him, he found it charming. Maybe it was because his brain was now trying to convince him of the perfection that was his mate. Or maybe it just made her seem... normal. Either way, he would have been happy to tell her he was fine with any tasteless jokes she chose to make, as long as they were not malicious. The assassination attempt, poor as it was, broke that line of thought.
It was only when the whole room was full of excitement and tension that he finally managed to slow his breathing, to stop himself from giving in to the urge to slaughter anyone nearby just to protect her. That was not the kind of Were he was. Keres putting her hand on his arm helped immensely, though he knew it was only to stop him from bleeding. His pupils shrank and Rorick finally managed to slip back into a reasonable state of mind. Just in time for another little joke that had the corner of his lip twitching. Those same eyes glanced down at her hand, tempted to put his own over it to savor the cool feeling of her skin. It was the same kind of feeling as putting something room temperature against hot skin. Relief and relaxation. When he took a moment to look at anything except Keres, things were more complicated. She had only a drop or two of blood rolling down her skin, staining her lace. She was fine. The Were closing the distance, matched by the vampires from the other side, were not.
"I'm fine. I get worse than this on a weekly basis." It was almost painful, but he peeled her hand away from his arm and took a step back. The Weres seemed tense, and he could tell from the tell-tale tightening of their neck muscles that a few prepared to shift if needed. He turned to them, suddenly a brick wall of authority. "Everything is fine. A human slipped through and made an attempt on my wife's life. That means both sides failed. So, all of you stand down." When he glanced toward the vampires, it seemed they heard what they wanted. There would be no more blood. After all, despite their schemes and smarts, they had even numbers, and that did not favor a vampire in open conflict. Things would be calm, at least for now.
Taking another look at Keres, he saw the green on her fingers. His blood covered her palm and he could not help the reaction in his gut. She was his mate, but there were things he knew he needed to do to save face. So, with a loud tear, he ripped the sleeve from his shirt, splitting it from the cut down. Rorick bundled the white fabric into a ball and took Keres's wrist. There was a sharp sound from both sides, like a room-wide inhale, but all he did was wipe the blood from her palm, from her fingers, until it was nothing but a pale green stain. Leaving her alone with Were blood would only invite issues. He looked up to see her eyes, startlingly purple and beautiful, and he spoke as flatly and evenly as he could. "I'll see you at my home, then."
And with a sharp turn and a few long strides, Rorick left her there, the dance unfinished.
♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎
Despite his promise, Rorick did not want to see Keres again. He had been right. A day or two without smelling her scent had managed to put his thoughts in working order. Not that he forgot about it. Not that he could stop thinking about her even if it would save his whole pack. It just became... easier. When she was not in front of him, he could approach normal, normal with a gaping hole left by her absence. Unfortunately, there was no getting around the truth.
That truth was that Rorick needed to keep her close by. He was the Alpha. No one would disobey him. But, like Keres's scent, his authority faded with distance and the hate for vampires was deep. So, the only place he could keep his bride without risking her life every minute of the day was his home. A regular reminder that, whether he was there or not, his authority was law. And that was how Keres ended up delivered to his home by her driver. They were likely the only vampires to get this deep into his territory for centuries, and she would be coming to stay.
Rorick's home was not exceptionally lavish. The leaders of the pack, himself and his closest seconds, lived off a percentage of returns from investments the pack made. The house had been built well before he was an Alpha, but the idea of spending that money on some mansion seemed absurd. No, this house was just his style. Deep in the forest, the house sat in a clearing around a lake. Once could step out of the back door and walk right onto the long dock. It was well over a hundred feet to the water, but connected directly to the back porch. The house itself was a fairly standard modern farmhouse style, though it was filled to the edges with extra rooms, almost like it had continued to grow after being constructed until it was barely capable of supporting itself. It was all soft colors, blue with clay colored tiles on the roof. Most of the building had some kind of wide windows, open to nature at every angle. And that was another problem.
There were two rooms that did not flood with sunlight during the day. One was the basement, which presented a few issues, most of which would be summed up to having only a single exit. The other was the adjoining bedroom attached to his own. It only had high windows in the slant of the ceiling, once intended to be a library. So, that was the only place they could place a vampire without risking her getting scared by the sun every morning. And so, that was how the distance he needed to keep shrank down to a single door. Things only became more complicated when Rorick tried to organize delivery of donated blood. He needed a driver who was willing to make the trip to the edge of vampire territory, a supplier, and somewhere safe to store it. A massive steel fridge with a lock was the only part of this that actually came together. And that was what Keres arrived to, greeted at the front door by a striking young Were who could only be a year or two older than herself.
This Were looked like someone had hit Rorick with a shrink ray and flipped his gender. The same dark hair with the blue tint, same tanned skin, even the same eyes. Whoever they resembled from their parents, they had strong genes. The shocking difference, however, was the canine ears that sat atop her head, twitching at every sound. "You are staying upstairs. Come on. I'll show you. The goons can carry you boxes in." The goons were a pair of Weres sitting on the couch across the room from the entrance. They were the same pair that had wrestled her attacker to the ground after Rorick turned his wrist into powder. They lacked the same ears as this new young woman, but clearly heard what she said from the raised middle finger one of them gave her. She smiled and turned on her heel, walking away to reveal the flicking tail that poked from a hole in her sweatpants.
She led Keres up to the doorway of her new room, which sat almost completely empty aside from the large bed. With crossed arms, she leaned on the doorframe. "I'm Ophelia, if Rorick hasn't mentioned me. Your beloved sister-in-law and least likely to try to murder you in the house." She paused for a moment, then realized that this was likely not funny. "Not that anyone is going to murder you. Rorick gave strict orders. Big Alpha voice and everything."
Keeping the pressure steady, magenta eyes lifted to his own golden ones and she tried for a smile as he gazed down at her, his own lips twitching some. For a minute, she thought maybe.. Just maybe there was hope for them. When Rorick pulled her hand from his arm, after telling her that he got worse than this on a weekly basis she nodded, almost meek. That meekness was in the wake of how they had almost been normal. Something that Keres desperately wished she was. Not a vampire, not a were or even human. But in truth, she fit nowhere. Vampires thought her a human fucker, humans were scared of her and weres reviled her entire species.
And she’d just married one.
The tension that was boiling at her back made the hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end. As if a switch was flipped, his voice rang out, commanding his people. They stood down. The power of an alpha? The vampires slowly calmed, but not nearly as fast. Not like they would do anything, while they had strengths of their own, against a force of werewolves like the one attending the wedding?
The tearing of cloth made her jump and she blinked, almost innocently at him as he took her hand and wiped his blood from her fingers. As he methodology cleaned her hand, she couldn’t help but wonder why he did. Did he think so little of her kind.. Of her? Her eyes had narrowed and when he looked from his task, there was something within her features. Anger? Confusion? Sadness? Contempt? Hurt? It was anyone’s guess, but she knew what she was feeling. Anger mingled with hurt and outrage.
“I will see you at my home, then.”
She watched him turn and walk away, leaving her alone on the dance floor.
Squaring her shoulders she turned and headed toward the small suite that she’d been cloistered in. All her things were there, packed away. Along she slammed the door. Childish, yes. Satisfying? Also yes. A healer came to see her a few minutes later, to make sure she didn’t need stitches and once again she was left alone.
Peeling off her wedding dress she let it fall in a heap near the bed. Next came the lacy underthings that she’d been made to wear. Like he would have seen them. Hell, she was willing to bet he’d do his utmost to avoid her. Collapsing nude on her bed, she sighed. Married.
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Pulling on a pair of black boy shorts, a pair of soft pleather jeans were pulled over her slender legs. With no need for a bra, she omitted it. A black lace tank top slipped over her breasts and hung around her midriff. Pale skin a stark contrast between the blacks. An oversized silk pink button up was pulled on and left open. Her long white hair was pulled free of pins and the braid picked apart before being pulled into a ponytail. The white tresses wavy, like sea foam behind her. She’d been too lazy to take it down the night before and had slept through most of the second night, feeling lethargic in the daunting reality that she faced. She would never belong anywhere..
The car ride across the border was odd. She had never seen the border in person. Sure, she knew about it, but seen it? Nope. Her driver seemed nervous, one of her father’s men. He’d come to her room an hour later, picked up her bags and led her to the SUV. Curled in the back seat, she watched the passing scenery.
It was startling, the differences between the sides. The vampire side was built up, almost futuristic when compared to the wealth of trees that formed a barrier to the wolves territory. Lots of forests, so the puppies could run, she assumed. When the engine died she looked up from her daydreams and looked up at the house that spilled out before her. It was not lavish, but it was big. It was a mash of styles that somehow worked. One thing she did take not of was the sheer number of windows.
Being a vampire meant she and the sun didn’t get along. She wouldn’t burst into flames, but get very sick? Break out in a sun rash that could lean toward burn like lesions? Yep. Fighting a sight she wondered how she’d be restricted. Maybe they had a cozy dungeon they planned to keep her in? Likely, she thought with a mental snort. Because it wasn’t like these windows would be treated. They had no need for it.
The door opened and she let her doc martins thud against the ground. Violet eyes scanned the yard and landed on a female clone of her husband. Sister? Then she found the ears and the tail and her lips parted, dainty fangs on display as she gawked, in a very lady-like fashion, at the sight before her. She stood in the doorway and Keres moved closer, though she’d shut her mouth by the time she reached the door.
A brow lifted and she nodded. “Alright.” Her eyes found the ‘goons’ recognizing them from the wedding. Part of his pack, clearly, but based on the wedding, part of his.. Inner circle? Led through the house and up a set of stairs she stepped past the woman as the door was opened. Turning she found her leaning against the door.
“No, but not like we have talked much.” She shrugged some, feeling out of sorts and on edge. “Good to know,..” there was dry amusement in her voice. Sister in law. “Right..” There was clear doubt about the words that had left her. She fully expected someone to try, big, scary alpha voice or not.
One of the goons cleared their throat and when Ophelia stepped aside, pushed past her far enough to set down the two boxes she’d brought. Her hole life in those stupid boxes. She didn’t know if it was pathetic or not. One held clothing. The other held books. She’d wanted to bring her computer, but had been denied. Likely the same reason she also was now without her phone…
“So..” She offered, uneasily as the goons left without a word.
Ophelia seemed to exist in a sort of orbit with Keres. She had not moved and closer, but smiled when her new sister-in-law mentioned that Rorick had not talked to her much. Not that it amused her when her brother failed at simple communication. Just that, like the other two Weres that carried her things, she knew the truth. Rorick had scented his mate and the wedding and there were currently four people trying to investigate if a vamp and a Were had ever been mated, while still trying to keep that information as secret as possible. At least, Ophelia thought with another sweet smile, he had married someone pretty.
"Sooooo... I guess I need to go over the basics since I have no clue what Ror is up to. You need to stay in the house, and we would really really appreciate it if you could not mess with the computers or try to steal someone's phone. If you do that, you get guards." Her tone was flippant, her eyes not exactly glued to the woman who represented an alliance with her species' mortal enemy. She had seen the fangs, the eyes. Could smell vamp all over her, but Ophelia had managed to keep her natural fear of vampires to a reasonable minimum. She planned to leave it at that, to let Keres do whatever she needed to make it her own, when her ears perked up and she leaned out into the hall. "Thank fuck..."
It was only a moment later when Rorick filled the doorway with his massive frame. He looked a little flushed, his breathing just a bit off, like he had been running a few minutes ago. "Who are you talk... Hello, Keres. You're a little early. I thought you would wait until longer after sunset." His expression changed twice in the span of only a few seconds. When he first looked in, he had been curious, unguarded. Then, he saw his wife and all of that vanished, pushed behind some kind of barrier he had constructed. When her scent hit him, though, it changed again, though this time in a minor way.
His pupils went wide again, like he was falling on instinct all of the sudden. His eyes drifted over her, lingered on the top that showed a cruel amount of skin, then snapped back to her face like they were pulled by gravity. He was dressed less casually than his sister, a black button down covering his chest, though it was untucked and the top few buttons were undone to show his tanned skin. The bottoms were jeans, casual and comfortable. The biggest difference from their last meeting was the fact that he was also sporting a tail and ears, both of which were in rapid motion now that he had noticed Keres and realized her scent was not just some lingering hallucination.
Ophelia glanced back and forth between them, looking suddenly uncomfortable. Not that she was going to explain to Keres her brother was currently giving her the Were version of an intense eye-fucking. She smiled again and ducked under the arm of her older sibling. "Rorick can answer any questions you have, but I'll be around all the time since I'm on summer break. Byeeeee."
Rorick was not answering any questions. Instead, he was crowding her doorway, hands gripping the wood hard enough that his knuckles were turning white. It was taking a lot of his self-control just to avoid staring at her tits, so answer questions was daunting. There were definitely things he needed to tell her, but they were currently blank.
She liked her, this sister in law, that she’d known nothing about. It wasn’t that she looked like a miniature version of her husband, it was the fact that she didn’t look at her like she had a second head. Or that she was there to eat their babies or something. It was either she was there to eat their kids or disgust, not even hidden. If Ophelia was scared, or hated her kind, she at least didn’t show it and that meant a lot to Keres. Her smile was sweet, welcoming and Keres found her own shy smile answering.
The rules were no different than she’d been told before and after a moment, Keres nodded. “Understood.” They were afraid she was a spy. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Why else would she agree? The joke she’d made in her own mind was dark. Professional collateral. Unwanted everywhere she went. That thought hurt more than she cared to admit. Never part of anything, anyone. Always on the outside. Inhaling she nodded once more, her long white hair swaying, bands falling into her eyes. “Thanks, Ophelia.”
Perked ears made her tilt her head and a frown pulled between her brows. Rorick was there,she heard his voice before she saw him and she felt a stab of pain. Eager to pawn her off, like she was some sort of disgusting bug. That too was buried and her eyes met the golden hues of her husband. She’d wanted to leave early, truth be told. She liked the sunset and in the safety of a UV protected SUV, she could watch it. Biting the inside of her cheek she shrugged some in answer.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed, the way his face shifted. From who he was normally, to the shock of her and then the mask. His pupils dilated and his eyes moved over her. Keres noticed, but dismissed it as something else entirely. Searching her for weapons? The ears and tail again. He’d not had them at the wedding. So this was likely something that was not known beyond the were community. She would have heard about it. It wasn’t the kinda thing vampires wouldn’t pick at.
As far as she was concerned it fit. Not that anyone was asking her. Keres' eyes were on his ears, the way they moved, twitched toward a new sound. She missed his tail wagging like an excited puppy and by the time her eyes lowered again, he’d managed to stop it. Opheia’s composure was crumpling and Keres assumed her unease was finally showing at being near to her. Then, as if she noticed she smiled and slipped away as quickly as she could, explaining that her husband could answer any questions.
Watching her leave, Keres inhaled slowly and exhaled. Pursing her lips, she fought a sigh. He wouldn’t even come in. The feel of his power, his blood was pleasing. “Do I smell so bad that you can’t stomach being in the room?” She asked after a moment, turning to the two boxes. Kneeling, she lifted one and moved it to the bed. Settling it on top of the comforter, she pulled out her keys. There was no knife, she used the edge of her keys to break the tap seal and pull the box open. Carefully she began to pull out her books and other things. The first thing she’d pulled out though was a well loved stuffed animal. There was little question as to what the animal was. The wolf had been with her since her first move, a welcome gift of sorts. Despite the iconology, Fenris had heard all her deepest darkest secrets and was the only thing that had ever seen her cry. “Your sister gave the basic run down. No phone. No PC. Stay inside..” Looking over her shoulder she lifted a brow. “Sure you don’t want to just throw me in the basement, like a good little prisoner?” There was a bite to her voice this time, her anger surfacing.
Ophelia decided in those few moments that she was going to be a Keres stan. The woman had not earned undying adoration, but things would be hard enough. She could be a friend, and probably keep a good eye on her. So, when she ducked away, she gave the sweetest smile she could manage. And, if she could have read the vampire's mind, she would have endured the discomfort just to prove her wrong. Instead, she was left alone with the other person who most certainly had no intention of killing her. Rorick was busy trying to make a dozen decisions at once about how to deal with Keres when she asked about her smell again.
"I told you that it isn't bad. Just... not something that I'm used to. Give me a few days and I'll be fine." Absolutely a fucking lie. He would want to bathe in her scent until the day he died and there was no getting around that. Even if she had been a bloodthirsty monster who carved his sister to pieces, he would think about her until the day he died. It was so much worse that he doubted very much she would be a problem. Her file had contained a lot of unfortunate circumstances and here she was again. She likely just wanted to survive.
After a few seconds, he collected himself enough to release the doorframe and step inside. The room was not saturated in her scent yet, which meant that it was not too painful to be in. He would miss the extra space, but that was hardly her problem. Rorick found himself just watching her for a while, keeping his eyes on her while she unpacked a few items. That is, until she leaned forward to pick up the box. She was short and petite, but the shape of her ass when she leaned over in those tight pants still drove him to turn away, ashamed. He hardly needed her to see him getting turned on like some teenager. So, he avoided looking. Until he saw the wolf in her hands.
His eyebrow rose, but he said nothing. Clearly she had gotten it from among the humans. A vampire would never. He nearly commented on it, until Keres spoke those biting words and drew his eyes back to her face. That certainly was not acceptable. Not for an alliance and not for him. "You aren't a prisoner. You're my wife and an ally. I don't like keeping you on house arrest, but I can't account for free will." Rorick turned toward her fully, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You would probably be killed within the day if I left you to wander. Ally or not, most of my pack is not happy to have you around. Nothing personal. They just hate every vampire." He tried to make it a little softer with the joke, tried to give her a bit of a warmer face, though smiling felt difficult when he was trying to keep himself from wrapping his arms around her and breathing her in. No, he needed to address the important issues and get this over with before she got too close.
"I do need to talk to you, though. About your food. We have been trying to get it organized, but the number of humans willing to drive to vampire and Were territory on a regular basis is currently at zero. It might be a few days before we figure it out. So, I needed to ask. How often do you need to eat? We might need an emergency trip if you eat daily." As far as he knew, all vamps drank their fill at every opportunity. Given how little he saw of it, he doubted it was as ravenous and uncontrollable as he has been told in his youth.
Not that bad. Right. The man was standing at the door, refusing to come closer. He needed to learn to be near her. She didn’t say any of this, what would the point be? He’d just deny it. The fact no one else reacted this way only made it more confusing and frankly more hurtful. Neither one of them knew much about the other’s species. In truth, she mostly knew human myths. Full moon forced them to change, they shifted into full wolves, not some half man half wolf. Though, with him and his sister sporting ears and a tail… That seemed incorrect.
He moved closer, with her back to him, it was the sound of his strong, rhythmic heart that told her this. Big brave wolf.. Mentally she snorted and continued to work. That his eyes had gone to her perfect heart shaped ass in her pleather pants. Nor that he turned away to keep from looking at it. No comment came about her stuffed animal, but Keres had no way of knowing that it was because of her words, rather than ignoring everything to do with her.
Turning she looked at him and snorted. “Really?” A brow lifted. “I can’t leave the house.” She nodded, “I get why. But I also cannot have a phone, or a PC.” Her arms crossed under her breasts and her shirt lifted a fraction, exposing more of her stomach as she mimicked his pose. “I get why, but it wasn’t even offered with restrictions. Just no.” She didn’t have friends, or anyone who would miss her but to be alienated entirely? “And if their alpha can barely stand to be in the same room as his wife and ally, do you really think anyone else wants me around?” Her voice didn’t raise, though the words were angry there was something almost defeated about them.
“You might as well have put me in the basement. You can say I am not a prisoner, but for all of my freedom,” the word might as well have been spoken with air quotes. “I might as well be.” His joke had been met with a rolling of her eyes. “Right. Because all vampires are evil, puppykins.” The nickname wasn’t said with adoration or any sweetness. It was deadpan and held an edge of resentment.
When the talk moved to her food source she blinked once and lifted a brow. “How often do you eat, Rorick?” She could wait a few days, but more than three and her body would start to fight her. “I can go for a week, before I need to feed.” Lie. Keres had never made it more than two days before her body started to fight her. Shallow skin. Lethargic weakness. She could just hide in her room. Wasn’t like she planned to wander the house.
That he couldn’t find anyone to deliver her food wasn’t shocking. “I have a few bags in my cooler.” Truth. “If we are done..” She turned away from him, the dismissal clear. In truth, there had been an almost childish hope this would be different. Not that she expected everyone to welcome her with open arms, but this had been his idea. She’d hoped it wouldn’t be like this. That they could be friends at least. It was likely part of why she was snappy. So hurt. She wanted to close the door and cuddle Fenris close. She wasn’t at the crying stage, but she wanted comfort and as he was the only comfort she’d ever known..
Rorick really did feel bad about denying her access to the rest of the world. He doubted that explaining would make her feel better, but some stupid part of him thought maybe it would at least improve her opinion of him. "That was a condition my pack set before they agreed to the alliance. And, we are more worried about your father than you. He seems... untrustworthy." Somehow, the wolf doubted she would take much offense at his implication. She had spent most of her life with humans at his decision and barely had time to breath before their wedding. Clearly, he did not miss his daughter dearly.
The second half hurt. Partially because Rorick found it extremely irritating that Keres thought he disliked her scent. It would be smart to agree, to let her think that. However, having someone say you hated something when you loved it, craved it, just struck a wrong note psychologically. It made him want to grind his teeth and he was showing it on his face without realizing it. So, when she mentioned the basement, something that had been on the table, he snapped a little.
"It was an option. I thought you would prefer a bed. We can get you some handcuffs too, if you feel like role-playing. I'm sorry you don't love this, but I am trying to save lives, Keres!" Rorick had barely raised his voice, a habit from living with Weres. However, there was a flash of the Alpha again. Of the man who commanded thousands of wolves. The change of topic was very welcome, though. At least, until she snapped at him again. The sigh that came from Rorick was weary, but he tried to push down the anger he had just shown.
"I was trying to be nice. I don't want you starving because we have a logistical. If you try to make yourself the victim every time I open my mouth, this is going to be much harder." At the very least, he could let that be settled naturally. If she had enough for at least a week, they could make some agreements, have a Were driver be selected. There was so much he needed to deal with, things he could not tell Keres about. After all, they were married, but they hardly knew each other. She did not need to hear his problems. But, now that she was dismissing him, there was one more thing he needed to get off his chest. So, he paused at the doorway.
"The problem isn't that you smell bad, Keres. It's that you smell very, very good." And with that, Rorick stepped out of her room and closed the door, taking in a deep breath after trying not to for minutes.
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The next few days proved to be even more exhausting than Rorick expected. Most of the pack refused to show up at the house. The vampires were complaining about a lack of contact with their collateral. Worst of all, a human driver was killed by the rebel faction that had cropped up when he became Alpha. It would have been annoying enough if they had not been on their way to deliver Keres' blood. Rorick could only hope she had been telling the truth, because a week seemed to be a low estimate.
A flash of anger, at least it was something. Keres didn’t tell him that she was used to the floor, that most nights she slept in a closet. It was part out of fear and part out of negligence on her foster family. Her eyes narrowed at the mention of cuffs and she fought back a feline hiss. Sighing, she looked away from him. Loving this had never been an option. She’d agreed on some stupid pipe dream and it had been shattered. Keres wasn’t welcome anywhere, why did this bother her so much?
“Then don’t make me the victim, husband dear.” Her response was almost petulant. Almost. She was tired and lonely. There was more than that, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to sign up to fix any of her problems. Keres felt conflicted and frustrated. What he was trying to do was.. Admirable. Even if it meant saddling himself with her for life. He’d be able to find some pretty little wolf at some point and she’d not object. One of them should be happy. Not like any of them would want anything to do with her. Not a single human had and her own kind saw her as a traitor of sorts.
Not like she’d had a choice.
She hadn’t answered him when he'd talked about her father. It was smart to not trust him, but they had lumped her in with him. What did they expect her to do? Tell him all their secrets? The man had traded her away the first chance he could to humans. She’d been back less than a year and now she was with wolves. In the time as collateral, there had been fifteen attempts on her life and some had come close. Not that many knew about that and as far as she knew, only five had been reported. She had no loyalty to her father. Mind readers though, they were not.
“You smell very very good.”
Keres had frozen and she turned as the door clicked closed. Confusion was plain on her face and no one could see it. Unpacking could wait for tomorrow night. Pulling the comforter off the bed and a pillow she made her way with Fenris to the closet. Curling into a ball, she held him close and closed her eyes. Sleep didn’t come till well after noon, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
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The next week she spent most of her time in her room. Her meager possessions had been put away and the boxes broken down. It took one day of her room before she slipped out near three am to explore. She’d run into Ophelia and though she was sure of how the other woman felt, she found herself still enjoying her company. On day four though there were no more late night meetings.
Blood was needed daily ideally, but every other day could work. It was day three without blood and her body was fighting. Attacking itself. She’d learned from Ophelia that blood should be coming and when it hadn’t come, a note had been left for her. It was all they could do because Keres refused to come out of her room. It was locked and she spent most of her days and nights in the closet, shivering as hunger ate at her insides.
Being without blood wasn’t pretty. The color of her pale skin became sickly and then waxy. Her fangs became more pronounced and her hair and eyes lost the luster of life. Dark bruises began to form under her eyes. A few more days without blood and her body would shut down. She could hibernate for one more week before she died.
Not once did she tell anyone this. It wasn't malice that held her back. No, she knew they were trying. It wasn’t some devious plan to ruin the alliance either. There was very little they could do though. No one would offer to feed her their blood in a bag and as far as she knew, feeding from a person hadn't been done since blood bags had been made. The practice taboo.
On day six she crawled from her cocoon and made her way to the living room. Her steps faltering, her body resting against the wall multiple times. She knew there would be no blood in the fridge, but it was like trying a locked door. You just had to. No one was about as she made her way to the fridge, her vision blurry. Fumbling for the door, to pull it open. She hadn't seen him, hadn't heard him and even his strong heartbeat fell on nearly deaf ears..
The first setback with the blood had been frustrating, but ultimately could have just been bad luck. A human checking in at the border drew attention and even one or two Weres could stop a car on the narrow forest roads. The second had been suspicious, mostly because it had happened twice so close without having issues prior. The third had been when things really became clear. Rorick suspected it had been targeted the entire time, but when his driver, a Were this time, arrived on their front door gagged, it had been obvious. The note that said "I hope your fang cunt starves" was also a decent hint. However, they were closing in on the week already.
While Rorick had done a terrible job of being kind to Keres, Ophelia was doing well enough. They had watched a movie together the other night, for fucksake. That had to be a good sign. Meanwhile, Rorick had avoided being overexposed to her scent. He would never tell any living soul that he had gone into her room while they watched their movie and just breathed her in. But, that had been three days ago and Keres had not emerged since. Rorick was beginning to be very sure that a week was not a normal time for a vampire to go without eating.
So, he had camped out. Stayed out in the hallway well into the night, hoping to catch her going out for air. The idea of using his key and opening her door was not ideal, but if she failed to show up tonight, he would be forced. When three am passed without a sign of his wife, he decided that tomorrow would be the day. So, for now, he wanted to go downstairs and have a snack.
Rorick was halfway through eating a sandwich when she stumbled in. The moment he saw her, Rorick felt his heart pound in his chest. She looked... terrible. It was not kind, but it was true. Her eyes were glassy, the vibrant purple more like a wilting lilac. Her skin was sickly, so different from that striking and lovely paleness. She seemed to not even notice him, walking over to the fridge they both knew was empty. He watched her fumble with the lock, watched her pull it open. And he saw how she seemed to just... hover there. Lost. No a week was far too long to go without.
"Keres. Keres are you going to be okay?" When she did not immediately turn around, he felt something new hit him. Panic. Pure panic, like he had felt only a few times in his life. The kind that was usually reserved for hearing terrible news about a loved one. Before he realized it, he was pushing out of his chair, walking up behind the vampire. Rorick scooped her into his arms without hesitation, walking with long and firm strides as he headed for the stairs. The fridge door hung open, his sandwich forgotten "Goddammit, Keres. Were you just planning on dying?"
When he finally breached the threshold of her room, he was almost in a run. He knew exactly what he would have to do, but there was no way he could do it in the kitchen. If someone saw, they might... overreact. His first instinct was to put her on the bed, but he saw that it was completely stripped. There was a vague memory, guided by her scent. Panic made it hard to piece it all together, but soon he followed the trail to where her scent was strongest. The closet.
Rorick set her down on the makeshift bed, which he now remembered finding the last time he had snuck in. He took a few seconds to close the door to the room, practically stumbling as he made his way back, dropping to his knees in front of the vampire. In one smooth motion, he pulled off his t-shirt, ears pinned to his head and he leaned forward. "Just bite me. I know you can have Were blood and I'm not letting you starve so just..."
He knew his heart was beating hard in his chest, knew his head was swimming from being in this small space, in her space. But, he also knew she looked ready to black out any second. Who knew he could he so worried about his vampire wife?
When he said her name, she didn’t react. Staring blankly at the bright interior of the fridge. She had known there would be nothing within for her and yet she felt that same sort of foolish hope she’d had about the marriage to Rorick burst. She just stood there, the light showing just how bad off she was, her hand trembling on the handle of the fridge.
Strong arms slipped around her and picked her into his warmth. When they had danced, it had felt nice. Hot to her coolness. Now? Moreso. She was actually cold. Curling into his warmth took a lot of effort and it shouldn’t have. His voice rumbled against her chest and rather than an answer or anything of the sort she made a soft content sound in her throat at his nearness.
Settled in her cocoon of blankets she sat there like a broken doll. The door closed and he was before him. His shirt was pulled off in a fluid motion and for the first time she reacted to his voice. “I can’t.” Her voice was papery and thin. “Feeding from a person..” Her words trailed off and then a word followed. “Taboo.”
A frustrated growl left her husband and she was pulled into his lap as his body shifted. Cradled against him his hand slipped into her hair and he pulled her closer to him until her nose brushed the strong pulse in his neck. Keres tried to squirm away, but with no strength left in her body, he held her easily. It took nearly ten minutes before her body, screaming for blood, forced her hand. With blood so close, that smelled good enough to make her mouth water, it was a surprise she’d lasted as long.
Feeding from a host was very different from a bag, but it was her natural instinct. Keres had never once fed from another person, but her mouth met his hot skin. Her body shifted and she straddled him as her tongue ran over his pulse. A flash of pain and then it faded to pure bliss as she pulled the first mouthful of his blood. It tasted like it smelled. Spicy, heady, sweet. As his life blood filled her veins, she moaned softly against his neck. Eyes closed, a hand slid into his thick, dark hair.
Each strong pull of her mouth sent pleasure rocking through not only him, but herself. She felt as her panties became damp with need. Felt as her nipples pebbled and felt as he hardened under her. Another sweet moan rippled through her with her fourth pull. Her hips began to move of their own volition. Needy little rocks that sent pleasure through her as her heated core ground against his jeans. The friction was nearly as delicious as he was.
Rorick could not believe the thin and sarcastic laugh that came out of him when she managed to finally speak and it was to tell him feeding from another person was taboo. What a fucking ridiculous thing to hear from Keres after they had been at each other's throats metaphorically. Literally seemed far less harrowing and significantly more important. So, he grabbed her hair in a rough handful and pushed her face against his neck. If there was one thing a Were understood, it was instinct, and he had a feeling that this would be the only way.
Except, it took so long. Even pulled into his lap, one hand on her back and the other in her hair, she seemed to resist him. "Come on. You don't even think of Weres as people, right? It doesn't count. Just do it. You aren't allowed to starve." And that was how he continued, cradling her close while he said nonsense that felt like it might encourage her to bite. It took two minutes. Then five. Ten. When she finally moved and wrapped her arms around him, he relaxed. Then, he felt her mouth on his skin and everything tensed all over again. This was not just some vampire. Not even just his wife. This was his mate, and her mouth was on his neck for the first time.
When her tongue dragged along his pulse, Rorick gripped her tighter. Not because he anticipated pain, but because he was already getting hard before she sank her fangs in. It hurt for so little time he did not even process it. Like a vague memory of pain being washed away. Because the feeling of her fangs in his neck was nothing but pure pleasure. Rorick groaned, back tensing as his slowly hardening cock immediately became painfully so. His hand moved lower on her back, the one in her hair holding tighter to encourage her.
It had always been a fact that he was hot and she was cold. It was only a few degrees, him one or two above a human and her one or two below, but it was notable. Now, he felt heat from her. From her hot need pressing against his cock. Not even the jeans could dampen it, and when she began to roll her hips, he fucking whimpered. Too fucking good. This was too good. And not good enough. More. More. More. He wanted to fuck her for a hundred different reasons, not the least of which was that he had spilled so much cum thinking of her perfect ass and that skimpy shirt she wore her first day here.
He moved his hand lower and Keres's ass was finally in his hand, a nice place to grip as he encouraged her to grind herself harder on him, just like he encouraged her to keep drinking. When he was sure she would not stop until she was done, he released her hair so that he could slide a hand behind them, to find her perfect little tits and brush against her nipple with his thumb. It coaxed another groan from Rorick as he arched against her. There was only one thing he wanted to say, and it was not stop.
"Keres... fuck... Keres, I need you to let go." It was so obvious from his desperate voice that something was wrong. His hands released her and both were between them. It was not until she finally released his throat that he could manage to do what he needed. His hands moved down to fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and shoving them down enough that only his boxer briefs kept them separated. It would have been impossible otherwise. "If... if you bite me again, I'm going to fuck you."
From the way he tilted his head, exposed the little trails of green on his skin, it was an invitation and not a threat.
Stupidity spilled from his mouth as he tried to convince her to bite him. A problem for another time. Instinct purred in her veins and she fought it. It was wrong. Biting a living being was not allowed. That fight left her mentally and physically drained and she’d not moved a single fucking muscle. Giving in had come swiftly when her resolve burned away.
Blood filled her mouth, her veins. It was almost secondary to the feelings building in her. One strong hand cupped her ass, the oversized teeshirt bunching under his grip. Her simple boyshorts molded to her petals as she ground against him, as he encouraged her to rock her hips hard, faster against him. When the hand left her hair she didn’t move, drinking almost greedily as the pleasure crashed into her system. A warm hand slid under her shirt and found her breast and then the rough pad of a thumb brushed over her already painfully hard nipple. Her whimper might have been muffled, but it wasn’t quiet.
Let go.
Slowly she pulled back, but not before licking the marks. Green blood trailed down his tanned skin, but no more fell. Hands slipped between them and she sat there, basking in the glow, it wasn’t until she heard the zipper she came back into herself. Her body rocked as his jeans were shoved down his highs. Then came his warning. At first, it seemed like a warning and then he bared his throat for her.
A sweet, feline sound left her. Keres had just purred. He was offering, not threatening. She’d never had anything more than her own fingers inside her, but the idea of him being buried in her aching cunt was too sweet to pass up. Keres might have been a tiny bit drunk on his blood. She maybe should have questioned it. Instead a smile curled on her lips and she brushed her lips over his neck. “Say please, Rorick.”
His name was pure sin and she trailed her fangs gently along his neck and felt the way his body shuddered. A frustrated growl left him and the please was like music to her ears. She kissed his pulse and then that sweet pinch faded into pleasure. The first pull was like liquid fire in her veins as pleasure hit her. Fingers curled in his hair as she squirmed, her own request. He’d promised after all.
When she felt the edge of her panties pull to the side she whimpered again, her free hand biting into his back. She needed this. Needed him. Needed his cock buried in her. Cool air was felt for a moment against her wet lips and she growled. Desperate, needy.
God, if they never touched again, he was going to stroke his cock to the sound of her whimpering for the rest of his life. The feeding was like a spark that started the fire, but there was something between them that was making all of it burn. He knew why it hit him so hard, knew that Keres would always be able to drive him insane if she wanted. So, when she let go, he had not hesitated. It was never going to stop. He was never going to keep enough distance to make this go away. There was only one solution. To lean in and enjoy it.
Except, despite purring like a cat and making his cock somehow get even fucking harder, Keres did not do exactly what he wanted. No, she told him that he had to say please. Had she not said it against his skin, not tempted him with the most incredible thing he had felt in his whole fucking life, he likely would have pinned her down and fucked her just to teach her a lesson. Her tone hardly helped. The heady, almost drunk, way she said it. So, maybe he did growl with a little frustration. But, in the end, hands gripping her ass tight, he murmured. "Please, Keres."
Then, her teeth were in his skin again and it was just as good as the first time. Her hips squirmed against him, her boyshorts providing exactly zero protection against how hot she was now that his jeans were out of the way. One of his hands began to tug at her panties, shifting them to the side, while the other was fumbling to free himself from his briefs. She had not gotten a good look at him, but it was obvious how thick he was from her constant grinding. When he finally came free, though, she got another surprise.
The length of his slipped under her shirt, brushing against her belly and showing her exactly how deep he was going to be. Yet, the whole time, she kept her mouth on him, giving the occasional suck to taste more of him. And that was what made him not wonder if she had ever done this before. Kept him from worrying about being gentle. He lifted her with one strong arm, leaning her against himself as he tried to get into position. Finally, he replaced that cool air against her cunt with the searing hot head of his cock.
There was a satisfied groan from that first touch, from feeling how incredibly wet she had gotten from feeding on him, from grinding on him. All him. That was what mattered. It took a few adjustments to get them lined up properly, but he barely waited for even that before he let her lower. And the way she squeezed around the head of his cock had him gasping, squeezing her ass hard enough to bruise as he began to lower her.
Gravity took over, making it so neither of them had to worry about guiding her down. Her hips met his own all at once, his entire cock disappearing in seconds. And from the way he was twitching wildly inside, it was nearly enough to make him spill his seed in her. This time, when he growled, it was a pleased sound. His tail was shamelessly slapping back and forth against the floor, his hips occasionally rolling to feel more. Then, he leaned close to her ear and spoke. "If I had to say please, you can ride my cock, wife."
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