Page 11 of Perfectly Petite Shorts (Perfect Pixie)

Peat sucked on his bottom lip. It was a habit Nirgal liked a little too much. “I heard Cassius and Gashan discussing it. Don’t be mad at them. They didn’t know I was there, listening in.”

Despite Peat’s desires, Nirgal still felt his vampiric blood stir. While he understood his nestlings’ concerns, he did not appreciate being spoken of, especially where curiously worried ears could hear.

Taking a moment to calm himself, Nirgal considered the question along with his response. He would not lie to his pixie, but he did not wish to frighten him either. “The blood I’ve been offered lacks appeal.” That was making far too light of the circumstances but was not a lie either.

Peat’s eyebrows scrunched. “Why?”

“Why does it not appeal?” At Peat’s nod, Nirgal answered, “I am not completely certain. However, it is not a recent development.”

“But it’s gotten worse,” Peat rightly guessed.

Nirgal gave a faint nod. “It has.”

“To the point you won’t drink it or that you can’t?”

It was a far too perceptive question for one who was not a vampire. “It would not kill me,” Nirgal answered. “However, I find the very odor of the blood nauseating. I doubt I would be able to keep it down even if forced.”

Peat wrapped his shawl tighter around him. Pixie dust once more floated to the ground, disappearing before it could hit the surface. “Is this my fault?” Peat sounded heartbroken.

“No,” Nirgal immediately answered. “No one is to blame.” Nirgal meant those words with every fiber of his being.

Peat cocked his head, and Nirgal knew his pixie wasn’t convinced. “I phrased that wrong.” Peat’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. “Has my presence made the scent of other blood less appealing?” When Nirgal hesitated, Peat tacked on, “Please, be honest.”

Shifting, Nirgal carefully weighed his words.

“It is likely,” he finally answered. “However, as I said before, you hold no blame in this. We are all trying to work through vampire-pixie relations. Centuries of misinformation and fear has clouded our history to the point where we must start anew. Unfortunately, this means information is scarce and…confusion is bound to happen.”

Instead of stepping away like Nirgal thought he would, Peat moved closer. Cautiously stretching out a hand, Peat laid his palm on Nirgal’s chest. Without feeding, Nirgal’s heartrate was glacial as it struggled to conserve his dwindling resources.

“Cassius and Gashan are worried you might fall into an unending sleep. Is that concern valid?” Peat’s words were whisper soft and his breath warm against Nirgal’s cool skin.

“It is not without precedence.”

“So, that’s a yes,” Peat correctly assumed.

“It is.”

Peat sucked on his bottom lip again. His fingers lightly feathered across Nirgal’s chest, warming bits and pieces of his skin.

“If…if you drank from me, would you need to bite?” Peat shivered, and Nirgal sensed it wasn’t due to pleasant thoughts.

“I’m sorry. I just… Your teeth are really big and I…

I think it will hurt too much. That’s not to say I wouldn’t allow you—”

“I do not need to use my teeth,” Nirgal reassured while wrapping his fingers around Peat’s wrist, holding that precious hand to his chest. “However, the point is moot. You are not required to feed me, Peat.” Much as Nirgal hated speaking those words, he knew deep down in what might be left of his soul that he could never harm his pixie—physically, mentally, or emotionally. “This is not your concern.”

Peat jerked his hand away, stepping back.

Anger quickly replaced the initial hurt lighting his eyes.

“ Not my concern? How can you say that? How can you believe that?” Pixie dust rained down behind Peat as the hum of his battering wings increased.

“You are every bit my concern.” Shoulders thrust back, Peat’s jaw jutted skyward.

“I am a home-and-hearth pixie, and you, Nirgal, are the very beating heart of this home. I can no more allow you to suffer than I can this chateau.”

Nirgal stared, taking in Peat’s instant ire. “You would feed me to aid our home.”

Peat gave a firm nod. “I would.” His face flushed, and Peat glanced away when he added, “I would do so even if that were not the case. I…I’ve grown very fond of you, Nirgal.

I would be very upset if you fell into an endless sleep, especially when my blood could make the difference.

” Twisting his shawl between his hands, Peat asked, “How do we do this?”

Nirgal hardly knew what to say. “You wish to feed me? Now?”

Peat shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I know you’re practically immortal and all that, but right now, time’s a-wastin’.”

Nirgal’s dry throat ached. He’d not allowed himself to truly contemplate the taste and feel of Peat’s blood sliding down his throat, filling his veins and renewing his second life. Now that it was a true possibility, Nirgal found he could barely contain himself.

How long had it been since Nirgal had actually desired blood?

He could not remember a specific date or instance.

Closing the distance between them, Nirgal cautiously reached for Peat’s hand, drawing the tender flesh up and exposing Peat’s inner wrist. The webwork of veins was clear as day to Nirgal’s predatory eyes.

The pulse of blood quickening as Peat’s nerves kicked in and sped his heart.

“I do not wish to harm you.” That did not mean that Nirgal might inadvertently do so. “I would gladly end my second life before hurting you.”

Peat’s heart rate diminished as his fear subsided. “I don’t know why, but I believe you. I’ve always believed you.” Peat sounded as confused as he did accepting of those words.

“Then trust me now.” Lowering his head, Nirgal’s tongue gently lapped at the tender belly of Peat’s wrist. “I will not bite. My saliva can numb the area. It can also incite intense pleasure but only when I bite. ”

Peat nodded but otherwise only offered small gasps.

Once Peat’s skin was thoroughly laved, Nirgal allowed one of his talons to elongate.

The wickedly razor-sharp edge barely nicked Peat’s skin.

Crimson rose to the surface, beading and beginning to fall to the side.

With a groan of pure desperation and want, Nirgal’s mouth clamped over the bleeding wound.

His tongue gentled the edges, keeping them open as life flowed into his body.

Warm, delicious, addicting…perfection . Nirgal’s body eased, all his senses fixated on Peat’s delectable blood seeping into this mouth, cascading down his throat, and filling his body with satisfaction.

In that moment, Nirgal knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would never drink from another. Should he consent, Peat would be by his side until the end of time. There could be no other way, no other option. Nirgal had finally found his beloved.

P eat

How was this his life? Peat had been wondering that for the last six weeks. The beautifully warm night air alive with darting sparks of life did nothing to change that question.

“The sprites are quite full of themselves tonight,” Nirgal said, holding out his hand.

Two of the darting sprites stopped, momentarily landing on Nirgal’s outstretched finger before taking off again.

They briefly swooped in to snatch some pixie dust before flying off again.

Nirgal’s soft, husky laughter warmed Peat’s chest.

Peat had gotten used to the sprites and had relaxed his only three to four at a time rule. So far, the sprites weren’t abusing his space bubble and had been respectful. As long as they continued doing so, then Peat was happy to share his dust. It was nice that someone liked it .

“The warmer weather suits you,” Nirgal said. Leaning in, Nirgal inhaled the skin at hollow of Peat’s neck. “As always, you smell divine.”

Peat blushed from the tip of his toes to the crown of his head.

He had no idea if it was his blood that Nirgal spoke of or something else in his scent.

Either way, it didn’t matter. No one had ever made Peat feel this cherished.

It didn’t matter that Nirgal was an ancient vampire who’d lived more lifetimes than any creature had a right to, and it didn’t matter that he’d become Nirgal’s only food source. If anything, it was a point of pride.

Maybe that wasn’t the right word. It was more than pride. Any time Peat thought of Nirgal feeding from another, a shot of potent jealousy swept through him. Nirgal never took too much. As in every other aspect, Nirgal was exceedingly cautious where Peat was concerned.

Beloved .

Nirgal called him that nightly. Peat wasn’t entirely certain what that word meant, at least not on the level Nirgal seemed to feel it.

Peat would never be a vampire and, therefore, could never truly understand.

Lacking any other way to describe it, Peat compared the feeling to that of bonding with a home.

When a home-and-hearth pixie bound to a home, it was…

everything. Every home-and-hearth pixie wandering the planet looked for that special place where they would be forever welcome.

Peat had finally found that here, at the chateau.

A home he’d thought all but dead when he’d first walked its hollow halls now teeming with life.

From the foundation to the tiled roof, the chateau pulsed with contented joy.

Peat had done that. He’d taken the waning spark buried deep below and fanned its flames.

Ever so carefully tending the fragile fire until it was nearly self-sustaining.