Page 42 of Crimson Oath (The Firebird and the Wolf #2)

Tatyana

T here it was.

The same words he’d uttered over a year ago, but in the light of months apart and everything she’d learned about him, the meaning was far more clear.

He lay under her, not unlike her dreams, and her fangs were at his throat. She knew what this meant. What he was offering.

Her mouth watered, and a little voice whispered in the back of her mind: You will not be able to leave him.

Nevertheless, she opened her mouth, scraped her fangs over his skin, and watched his blood rush to the surface.

Oleg let out a guttural groan and dug his fingers into her hips. “Playing with your food, little wolf?”

Her food? She felt her mouth water, as if she could already taste the hot, sweet flood of him in her mouth.

His amnis crawled over her skin, teasing her nipples to sensitive points, raising goose bumps on her flesh.

Oleg sat preternaturally still, offering his blood to the predator she had become.

She licked at his neck, arching against him and riding the hard line of his erection between her thighs. The moment he fucked her, he would be master again, commanding her body and overwhelming her senses.

But this?

She breathed heated air against his neck and enjoyed the subtle reaction as his fingers curled into the flesh at her hips. He arched up, rubbing his erection against her aroused flesh, but he didn’t move his head, baring his neck to her fangs.

He wasn’t even breathing. The only sound in the room was her ragged breath against his skin.

Her choice.

Her bite.

His blood.

She drew her lips back and sank her teeth into Oleg’s neck.

He let out a low, guttural groan of pleasure, and his hand moved to the back of her head. “Harder.”

She bit down, all the while ravenous for him to fill her. She fumbled with the buttons on his trousers as she pulled blood from his neck.

Oleg finally reached down, tore his pants down the center, lifted her up, and seated himself to the hilt in her body.

She moaned at the pleasurable invasion, but her fangs never left his neck.

He said nothing, holding her tight as he thrust up over and over.

Tatyana rode him as she swallowed his rich, sweet blood.

It was like nothing else she’d ever tasted.

Wine after sips of water. She could feel his amnis flowing into her body, spreading through her veins, and the power of his fire twisted within her, joining them even closer than their bodies were linked.

She could take no more, and she released him with a gasp.

Oleg gripped the back of her hair in his fist and brought her bloody mouth to his lips, fusing them together in a kiss so savage that her head spun even as his elemental power surged through her.

Oleg put his hands under her bottom, as if he was going to lift her, then froze, eased back, and put his hands on her hips, lifting her up and down to ride his cock as she angled herself against him and focused on the swirling torrent of pleasure that was starting to pull her under like a whirlpool.

His amnis surging through her blood, his cock spearing her body, his voice whispering in a language she couldn’t understand.

Oleg leaned forward, and Tatyana knew he wanted to take control, lift her up, flip her over, and make her scream.

Instead, he commanded her with tender hands and achingly slow thrusts as he felt her body start to tighten around him.

“That’s it.” He finally whispered something she could understand. “Come. Let me feel your pleasure joining mine.”

Her body was a riot of sensation, but her elemental energy was a flood.

His amnis. Her amnis. Flowing like twin currents in a raging river.

She followed the crest of pleasure as it stole her breath, and Oleg cupped her cheeks in the palms of his hands, placing a gentle kiss against her gasping, open mouth.

She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.

When he came, he pressed his face into her neck and uttered her name with a ragged breath that sounded like it was torn from his chest.

His mouth was at her throat, and she was expecting his fangs.

She wanted his fangs.

Instead, he fluttered kisses over her skin and stroked his hands over her shoulders, along her exposed legs, and everywhere he touched, the tiny hairs on her body rose and followed him, caressing his fingers as he caressed her.

Tatyana was shaking.

She had destroyed herself against him, and all she wanted to do was hide.

She was too exposed. She’d been naked in front of Oleg, but now she felt like her very soul was laid bare.

“Tatyana— ”

“Stop,” she whispered, pressing her fingers against his lips. “Too much. I can’t…” Her heart was an exposed nerve. “You need to leave.”

Oleg leaned back, tilting his arrogant chin up and waiting until her eyes met his.

“I need to be alone,” she whispered.

He didn’t argue. The corner of his mouth turned up, but he said nothing.

Oleg was still in her body when he snapped his fingers and brought twin flames to his fingertips. He reached up and pressed his flaming fingers to the still-weeping fang marks she’d left in his neck.

Tatyana gasped when she heard the sizzle and took in the smell of burning flesh. “Oleg?—”

“I don’t mind your marks on my body, volchitsa.” He smiled a little more. “I’d like to keep these for a while.”

The flames left two red scars on his flesh, and Tatyana knew it would take months or even years for them to heal.

She was shaking and wrecked from an overload of sensation along with the rush of Oleg’s powerful amnis flooding her body. She felt lightheaded.

She felt drunk.

Slowly she climbed off him, pulling her ruined sundress over her head and tossing it on the ground before she walked to the bathroom and threw on a robe, then cleaned herself up.

When she walked back, she saw that Oleg had pulled out the tail of his navy-blue collared shirt to cover the wreckage of his torn trousers.

She felt her skin heating up. “I’m sorry?—”

“It’s nothing.” He cast a sly glance at her. “You’re hard on my wardrobe, you know.”

The flippant response jumped to her lips. “If you’d like to borrow a dress, you can have your pick.”

He chuckled and walked over to her, grabbing her by the back of her neck and bringing her mouth to his in a hard kiss. “There she is. ”

She felt like she should say something, but she didn’t know what. “Are you?—”

“I’ll bring some extra clothes the next time I visit.” He pinched her chin, pressed one swift kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well.”

Seconds later, he was gone.

Tatyana locked the door, double-locked it, and then crawled into her bed to hide.

The following night, Oleg didn’t come, but he left a note in her trailer before dawn with a few words of apology, his next move on the chessboard, and a clutch of lavender he’d stuck in a glass.

Tatyana didn’t mind. She was still working through the utter confusion of taking his blood and how it was making her feel.

Powerful, no doubt. She’d slept hard through the day, and that night when she woke, the usual burning in her throat was gone. She was barely hungry, and a single goblet of blood-wine was enough to sate her.

Two new trailers had appeared during the day, but she kept to her own caravan until the sound of strange voices had passed. When she snuck out, it was only to go see Rumi and Desiree, who were cooking for the evening meal.

“The man is a wind vampire, and his name is Benjamin Vecchio,” Rumi said. “He’s the son of Giovanni Vecchio, who used to go by the name Giovanni di Spada.”

Desiree murmured something and crossed herself.

“Who is that?” Tatyana felt like they were talking about the boogeyman.

“Giovanni di Spada was a very vicious assassin.” Desiree added a cup of spicy red paprika to the pot she was stirring, then swung the iron arm over the fire and spread the coals to lower the heat.

“The old men use his name to frighten the children when they misbehave.” She lowered her voice.

“Don’t wander at night or Giovanni di Spada will find you and cut your throat. ”

Tatyana’s jaw dropped. “That’s terrible!”

Rumi wrinkled her nose. “Yes, it’s not good.”

“And this new vampire is his son ?”

“Apparently he was adopted as a child and raised with vampires.” Rumi kept her voice low. “But he was sired not by his adoptive father but by Zhang Guo.”

Tatyana had heard that name before, many times, in Arosh’s court. “One of the Eight Immortals?” They were the vampire lords of most of East Asia, and rumors of their power and authority were impossible to avoid.

Arosh pretended to be civil with all of them, but he was highly resentful.

“So this vampire staying in the kamvasa is like… royalty or something?” Tatyana said.

She resented him immediately, which was probably unfair, but it seemed like everything in his life had been handed to him, and Tatyana couldn’t help but resent people like that.

“The other vampire’s name is Tenzin.” Rumi was in full gossip mode. She put her knife down and spoke with her hands. “And she was Giovanni di Spada’s old partner, but now she’s mated to his son.”

How… odd.

Rumi shrugged. “I know that probably seems strange, but they’re vampires.”

“Yes, vampire relationships can be very… complicated.”

Oleg and Luana.

Luana and Zara.

Oleg and Tatyana.

She was exchanging blood with a man who was well over a thousand years her senior. Who was she to judge?

“If they’re mated vampires, why do they have different trailers?” Desiree frowned as she chopped another pile of onions. “That is unusual, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You can be mated to someone and still not trust them, I suppose.” Rumi looked at Tatyana. “What do you think?”

“You’re asking me?” Tatyana shrugged. “You’ve known about vampires longer than I have. I’m a baby in this world.”

“You have a certain… glow about you though.” Rumi winked at her. “So I think that you’re learning more every night.”