Page 29 of Caller of Crows

He scanned Sven's mind once more, suddenly scared that he might have taken too much blood in his irresponsible frenzy, but the mortal seemed okay, if a little drowsy.

"Couldn't stop yourself, could you?" Sven murmured, his words slurred.

"No," Altair replied honestly. "You shouldn't have tempted me."

Sven turned his head slightly to look at him, and there was a hint of a smile on his face. "But then I wouldn't have gotten this," he said, running his fingertips along Altair's cheek as if Altair was not a dangerous vampire.

"Get what?"

"This moment with you. Seeing you vulnerable."

"I was not vulnerable at any point."

Sven laughed. "Sure, Grandpa."

Altair scowled at him. "You should not call me that."

"Or what?" Sven asked.

"I'll have to teach you some respect."

Sven's laugh was a short, breathless thing that sent a jolt through Altair. He propped himself up on one elbow and studied the mortal. Sven's eyelashes fluttered as his breathing slowed, his thoughts slowing with it.

He was falling asleep.

Altair shifted until he was spooning Sven from behind, his cock half-hard. He ran his lips over Sven's shoulder, tasting the blood that stained his skin.

"If I dream," Sven murmured, "I'm sure it will be of you."

A lump formed in Altair's throat, and he tightened his grip around Sven's chest. It wasn't until later, when he felt Sven's heartbeat slow and his breathing even out, that he allowed himself to do the same.

ChapterTen

Sven felt disoriented when he woke up the next morning… if it was morning. His body ached in a way it never had before, and his mind was still fuzzy. His dreams had been strange, and erotic, filled with a certain vampire with a wicked mouth and a penchant for biting.

His fingers reached for the bite on his neck, but it wasn't there. The skin was tender to the touch, though, and memories of the night before came rushing back to him.

Sven sat up and looked around the room, expecting to see Altair lying beside him.

But he was alone.

His breath caught in his throat, and he scrambled out of the bed, hurriedly pulling on his clothes. The sheets were still damp and smelled like sex, and a wave of desire crashed over Sven again. He tried to will it away, but it was impossible.

He could try to blame the way he'd acted on the vampire's venom in his veins but didn't want to lie to himself. He'd loved every minute of it. The feel of Altair's fangs, Altair's lips, Altair's cock…

Sven shook his head.

He'd wanted the vampire the night before.

His fingers traced his neck once more, and for a moment, he remembered Altair's touch, how his cock had felt inside him, and the heat and pleasure he'd experienced when Altair's fangs had pierced his skin.

It was a heady feeling that made his cock twitch in his pants.

Fuck.

Now that he was alone with his thoughts, he didn't know what exactly he'd gotten himself into, but whatever it was, he was in too deep.

His plan had been to come here and get himself turned so he could help his mother, but he hadn't wasted a single thought on his ambitions last night. The vampire's touch had been all he could think about.