Page 11 of Caller of Crows

Instead, he'd nearly crumbled himself when the vampire had kissed him — all to assert dominance, no doubt.

Sven groaned and turned around, pressing his face into the pillow. He wanted to jerk off, but if he did, there was no way for him to clean himself after, and he was sure the vampires would be able to smell it on him.

He wasn't going to grant Altair that kind of victory.

Taking another deep breath, he tried to relax once more, focused on emptying his mind.

Still, sleep didn't come easy.

And even when it did finally pull him under, he fell into a tangled web of dreams, a nightmare that had become all too familiar to him. He was alone in the woods at night, the moon casting an eerie glow over the path ahead. The forest was a symphony of whispers, rustling leaves, and unseen creatures stirring in the shadows.

An icy dread began to seep into his bones, an instinctual awareness that he was not alone. Out of the darkness, a figure emerged. His heart pounded in his chest as he recognized the figure for what it was — a vampire. Its eyes were cold and predatory, glowing with a merciless hunger that made Sven's blood run cold.

He was paralyzed, rooted to the spot as the vampire closed in on him. His mind screamed at him to move, but he couldn't. Next, he felt a sudden, piercing pain as the vampire sank its fangs into him. His vision blurred, a silent scream echoing in his throat as his world spun out of control.

And then… nothing. A merciful blanket of darkness enveloped him.

When he opened his eyes again, his attacker was gone, while the stinging sensation on his neck remained. His body felt heavy, and the woods around him were deathly quiet.

Then he saw it - a single crow's feather, black as the night itself, resting next to his head, a stark contrast against the dark green of the forest floor.

He woke with a start, his heart hammering in his chest. The cold dread of the nightmare still clung to him as he lay in the darkness of his room, the phantom sensation of the vampire's bite lingering.

This dream had haunted him for years, a ghost from the past that refused to be forgotten.

But the feather was new.

Had it really been there that night or was it just a detail his mind made up due to the stress of recent events?

"Finally awake?"

Sven nearly jumped at the realization that he wasn't alone in his room. In the darkness, he couldn't see who was there with him, but the low chuckle that followed the question let him know who he was dealing with. Altair.

Sven's chest tightened as he sat up, eyes adjusting to the lack of light. He could just make out the silhouette of the vampire leaning against the wall.

"What do you want?" Sven asked, trying to sound defiant instead of shaken.

"To talk," Altair replied easily, pushing himself off the wall and walking closer to the bed. "It's been brought to my attention that your accommodations are not suitable."

"How long have you been watching me?" Sven asked instead of responding to Altair's statement. He did want better accommodations, but that wasn't his primary concern right now.

His primary concern was that he'd been sleeping with a vampire lord staring at him while he didn't know. That was creepy.

"Let's say I've been here long enough to know that you've had a nightmare," Altair said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and making Sven shift away involuntarily. "Are you still scared, Sven?"

"My dream had nothing to do with you."

It was difficult to read Altair's expression, especially in the darkness that enveloped them, but Sven didn't think that he looked convinced.

"I don't understand why you came here," Altair said after a moment.

"You don't need to know my reasons."

"I don't? You suggest I make you part of my coven without knowing anything about you?"

Sven's jaw tightened. "I'm tired of being mortal. Isn't that enough reason?"

Altair considered this, then he rose from the bed. "No."