Page 29

O nce outside, I stumbled to the car and leaned hard against it, gulping in clean night air that didn’t taste of copper and death. The stars wheeled overhead, impossibly bright and clear compared to the horror we’d left behind. My skin still crawled, but the light breeze began to cool the fever-heat beneath.

Nicholas kept his distance, watching. “Are you… alright, love?”

I shook my head, opening my eyes. “I’ve never sensed anything like that before.”

He frowned and said nothing, leaning around me to open the passenger side door. I climbed in.

I closed my eyes tight as we left, trying to force my body back to normality. I needed to forget that awful, overwhelming feeling of… sickness.

Pulling up outside the house, I took a long breath before looking over at Nicholas, whose eyes followed my every movement as always.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, glancing away again .

“Would ye describe it to me?” He paused. “The way it works?”

I almost laughed, remembering how many times Jon had asked the same thing. But Nicholas’s quiet intensity was different – less clinical, more personal.

I shifted to face him over the gearstick, absently running a hand through my hair. “I can try.”

“It starts like that feeling when you know you’re being watched – an extra sense that bleeds into all the others. My skin tingles – beyond itchy, like something trying to crawl out from underneath. That hits first, then the hyper-awareness kicks in.” I leaned back against the headrest, trying to find the words. “The taste comes next. Hot metal in the air, coating my tongue. And then there’s the fire.”

“Fire?” His eyes darkened as he turned toward me, the lean muscle in his shoulders shifting beneath his shirt as he moved. For a moment I glimpsed the predator who understood exactly what that fire felt like.

“That’s how I think of it. Adrenaline, I suppose.” I remembered as I spoke. “When I was younger, it was immediate and overwhelming – all of that at once. I can control it better now, so the fire comes with the fighting. It pushes me harder, lets me take the blows and hit back,” I grinned. “That part’s not so bad.”

“Aye, I ken that part well,” he smiled. “And do you feel this way any time there’s a vampire near?”

“I did,” I hedged, though I knew what he was really asking. “Until I met you and Isabel. You’re…” I hesitated. I had to be honest with him here. “I do sense you, but I have to really try – it’s much harder.”

He nodded, his face hidden in the half-light.

“In the warehouse, it was different.” My hands twisted in my lap. “Beyond sickening. I’m not squeamish – I’ve seen enough blood for ten lifetimes. It was… wrong. Rotten. Something in there left a stain.”

Neither of us spoke. The truth was starting to sink in: my senses weren’t just getting stronger – they were evolving. The vampire girl in the park had been too much for me already. There was no way I wanted to be that affected by every vamp death – and that was something that was fast approaching. With my deeper understanding of them, it seemed I was more attuned to their energy.

The warehouse’s atmosphere still clung to me like a shadow. I needed something normal to chase away the darkness.

“Do you want to come in for coffee?” The words slipped out before I could second-guess them.

“I’d like that verra much.” Nicholas’s voice was soft, but his eyes were intense.

On the steps, I fumbled for my keys, struggling to get into my jacket pocket under the strap of my sword sheath. As he had once before, Nicholas swept in, found the keys and unlocked the door in the blink of an eye.

“Cole!” The laugh bubbled up naturally, despite everything we’d seen tonight.

Nicholas gave me his now-familiar half-grin, and stepped inside, closing the door behind us. I shrugged out of my coat, hanging it by the door before peeking into the living room at the piles of paperwork Tom had left on the desk and coffee table. I groaned inwardly at the mess. It wasn’t important, but still.

“The attic might be more comfortable,” I offered, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll grab those drinks.”

He nodded and began to make his way leisurely up the stairs.

As I waited for the kettle to boil, I thought about Solace’s words – about the intruder feeding on other vampires – and Nicholas’s appalled reaction. Taboo, he’d called it. If human blood was necessary for their survival, I had to assume that vampire blood would make them even stronger. Though it seemed a lot more like cannibalism, where a vamp feeding on a human just… didn’t.

Great .

I carried the mugs upstairs and set them on my dressing table. The silence from above was unnerving – I wondered what he was up to. Running my fingers through my wind-tangled hair, I climbed up to investigate.

Nicholas knelt on the floor with that perfect stillness only vampires seemed capable of, the strong lines of his back and shoulders evident even through his clothes as he bent to examine my sketches. His fingers traced the edge of one of the larger drawings – unfinished like everything lately, but raw with emotion I hadn’t meant to capture. Each page was more revealing than I’d intended.

“They’re private, you know.” The words came out barely above a whisper, but he actually startled.

“It’s no often anyone manages to sneak up on me.” He rose in one fluid motion, brushing his knees with an old-world precision that somehow fit him perfectly, despite looking barely older than I was. His crooked smile held a hint of approval.

“I think you might’ve been distracted.” I raised an eyebrow, passing him a mug. He placed it on the dresser behind him without drinking it.

“Aye, perhaps.” He slid his hands into his pockets.

“So what’s the verdict?” I took a sip of coffee, studying the floor.

He spoke with a soft cadence. “You’ve quite a gift with the pencil. Your memory’s captured me more truly than I would have imagined a human mind capable.” He smirked. “I’d be flattered if I wasnae already so naturally modest.”

A blush crept up into my cheeks. “I didn’t even realise it was you until I’d finished them,” I admitted. “They’re from before – before I knew who you were.”

Nicholas said nothing to that, and I let it lie. It was becoming more and more apparent that I needed to address what there was between us – the pull I felt with him was undeniable, prophecy or no prophecy. But this evening had brought other concerns to light that were probably more crucial than my personal life.

I took a sip, my mind back at Seven. The sight of the massacre kept replaying in my mind – not just the horror of it, but what it meant for me and, well, my friends. Solace had seemed genuinely afraid of her attacker, which probably meant I should be way more afraid than I had been so far.

“What you said at the warehouse,” I began. “About vampire blood being taboo. What did you mean?”

The faint lines around Nicholas’s mouth pulled downward into a frown. “Tis… unnatural. Wrong. I havnae heard of one who fed on their own kind for many a year – though it offers strength far beyond the norm.”

Fan-fucking-tastic. “So this woman… she’s stronger than other vamps?” I put my rapidly cooling mug down. “Could she be stronger than you?”

His jaw tightened. “I cannae say for certain. I’ve lived a long time, but I’ve only heard whispers of such things. The consequences… Those who feed on their own become somethin’ else entirely. Somethin’… unstable.”

“That feeling I had there – I could tell it was wrong. Like the air had gone rancid.” I shuddered. “If this woman is as powerful as Solace claims…”

“Then we’ll need to take more care, aye.” Nicholas finished. “But at least now we ken what we’re facin’.”

I nodded, though it wasn’t exactly a comforting thought. “I guess it explains why the regular vampire deaths have been increasing, too. They’re not just killing to frame you – they’re feeding to grow stronger.”

We stood in the quiet for a few moments, and I turned this over. I should have been having a complete meltdown over the idea of it – but with Nicholas by my side, the coming fight was a little less daunting. I knew he was a big part of the reason Jon and Maggie had died, and the other women too… but I couldn’t bring myself to wish him away. To wish he’d never come here.

“I meant what I said before,” I ventured, watching his face for any reaction. “About you being in my head. I don’t understand it, but…” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Being near you affects me, and not just because of what you are. You feel…” I searched for words that wouldn’t sound insane. “Right. Like you fit into spaces I didn’t know were empty.”

His mouth twitched into a smile again, and I returned it like it was the most natural thing in the world, despite my embarrassing frankness.

“We’re different.” He sighed, and I averted my eyes. “But we balance each other well, I think.”

I ran a hand through my hair and nodded. Intense green eyes followed the gesture.

“When I first met Jon…” My voice caught. “I thought he might be the missing piece. I’d spent so long watching everyone else figure it out – falling in love, falling apart, moving on.” The memories ached less than they used to. “And there was something there with him – not romantic, but… it wasn’t him I was sensing, was it?” I caught Nicholas’s gaze through my lashes. “It was you, all along. Your connection to him. That’s why the emptiness never went away.” I traced the rim of my mug. “It was selfish of me to keep him close. But I suppose… it was in case I never found you. And I didn’t know you existed .”

“It wisnae selfish, Erin – how could you’ve known?”

His lilting accent wrapped around the words like a balm, speaking truths I’d never been able to voice.

“I know.” The whisper felt raw in my throat. “After he died, everything felt… darker.”

“Aye, I expect it did.” His voice held centuries of understanding. “But you dealt with his presence in your life far better than I ever managed, when in a similar position.”

I sank down, his history pressing in. His diaries had only prepared me for so much. Nicholas settled beside me, close enough that I could feel the cool air around him, but not quite touching.

“Might you begin to ken my frustration?” he asked.

I met his gaze – eyes dark with memory, seeking something in my face. And I said the words I never thought I’d say.

“I think so.”

He flashed a quick smile, but it was clear he didn’t believe me.

“Being a vampire’s no as easy as Isabel and I like to make it appear, you know. In the early days, with no one to tell you how it works…” He flexed his hands. “It’s difficult to get a grasp on a hunger like that. Tis a lot of new emotions.”

The question that had been circling my mind since I first discovered his history finally found its way to my lips. “And the red-headed women? Was that always part of it?”

His gaze met mine, unflinching. “I ken what you’ve been told, but my interest in red-headed women wisnae something I was predisposed to. Aye, I knew of the prophecy my grandmother had shared – but once I was turned, all that faded away. Everything became about the blood. Any blood.”

I reached for his hand. His skin was cool, but the calluses beneath my fingers were unmistakably human.

“I didnae understand what I was,” he continued, voice low. “I’d no proper education beyond religion and the Devil. I went to war because I believed it was right. But I failed.” His eyes closed, lost in memory. “Years later, I became this—” He gestured at himself. “I knew it was my punishment.”

He tugged his collar down, revealing a curved white scar. “I killed with abandon those first few years. Sometimes in battle, but no always.” The collar slipped back, his hands falling to his lap. The silence stretched between us.

“I’ve ne’er found a word as could convey my guilt,” he said eventually, his eyes darting around the room, seeing something else. “I argued with myself I was doing what my body demanded… The new strength was wonderful – but it required payment.

“It wisnae til my vampire mind matured that I began to ask questions.” He pulled from behind him one of the diaries I’d left on the kitchen table. I hadn’t even noticed he’d taken it.

“I wrote those questions down.” He held up the book before placing it on the seat between us. “It helped. I was calmer. I realised the deities and devils I’d thought were punishin’ me didnae exist. After all, I’d defied all godly laws already – I’d risen from the dead.

“Eternal life has its advantages, o’ course.” A flicker of his usual roguish smile appeared. “When all you have is time, there’s room to refine one’s… talents, shall we say?” His eyes met mine with a flash of heat before returning to seriousness. “Though I’d trade a lifetime of skills for a wee bit o’ peace from my conscience.”

Nicholas leaned back, distancing himself as he continued to tell his story .

“Twas here in Yorkshire when I lost myself again. A flame-haired beauty, she was – and the beginnin’ of my downward spiral.” His eyes closed. “I’ve many a time wished I didnae meet her.”

“By then, I’d tried to build something. Read everything I could, bought houses with vast libraries. I even worked peasant trades again, tailoring, though feedin’ on noblemen was the fastest path to wealth.” His voice faded into memory.

“One snowy night, before sunrise, I left my carriage. The clerk at the library was a particular friend of mine, and would open late for me – a few words o’ gossip bought his silence.” The ghost of a smile touched his lips. “That’s when I saw her, fightin’ off a lad from the tavern. She called for aid but no one came. They ne’er did, back then.”

“He was drunk and savage. And aye, I saved her – though I had no idea what drew me to her,” he sighed. “Mayhap I only saved her to kill her myself.”

His eyes met mine, calm. “Twas a kinder death at least. Quicker. I was already so glutted on his blood, I barely recognised her appeal at first. I thought it my usual hunger, nothing more. But after… I lost what little civility I’d regained, trying to recapture that feelin’.”

“Was that when you met Isabel?” I asked, wanting to reach for him, to comfort him, but not daring.

“No. That was later – 1750 or so. Twas a friendship formed of necessity since it was I who’d brought hunters down upon us.”

“Hunters?” I asked, surprised.

“Your abilities are rare, but no unique,” he grinned. “Yet you, yourself… there’s none like you, the world over. That I ken for sure.”

I knew he meant it as a compliment, but I couldn’t help wonder how many hunters had failed to take him and Isabel down – how many had died trying.

“So… what changed?” We’d come too far to stop now.

Nicholas took his time answering.

“Many things,” he said finally. “Where there was a war, I would fight – tryin’ to make up for my weakness—”

“But you were so young, before.” I interrupted. “From what you’ve said – anyone would expect you to have been afraid.”

He gazed at me, gravely. “These days you have reasons for it, aye. A name for the trauma. At the time, it was punishable by death. Twas cowardice, and nothing more.”

“But you kept going back?”

“To any war I could get to.” He shook his head. “I still cannae fathom what I sought to achieve – and twas fair contradictory to my nature. It’s no exactly typical vampire behaviour… Gods, Isabel’s always found it verra entertaining.”

I thought I might be beginning to understand. “The contradiction – wanting to do good – was that it?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “It helped me see, but it took years. I knew that if I e’er found you, I had to offer more than a monster. That emptiness you spoke of – for me twas as much about my guilty conscience as my search for ye. I had to wonder what sort of person could want a man such as me.” He pushed a lock of dark hair back, his gaze distant. “And I wasnae wrong. I see how you struggle with it. ”

I looked away. How could I admit that in such a short time, he’d already changed me? For years, my world had been black or white – grey wasn’t even a consideration. I should have found forgiveness impossible. But here I was.

“I know there’ll always be part of you in the darkness,” I murmured. “And I know you can’t change what you are. So I’m trying to see past it; to remember we all have darkness in us.” I gave a half-hearted laugh. “You’re what, almost four centuries old? Of course you made more mistakes than most of us. I’m hardly innocent myself.”

I stood up. Why couldn’t I find the words? I pulled him to his feet.

He looked down at me curiously. “And is that enough?”

I sighed. “I think so. For now. Tom still wants me to kill you,” I admitted.

“I cannae blame him,” Nicholas replied.

“But I couldn’t,” I said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. “I see how hard you try. The restraint behind everything you do – I admire it. I’m grateful for it.” My hands found his shoulders, tracing down the tight muscles of his arms until our fingers entwined.

He looked away. “I find myself struggling these nights. My need to keep you safe wars with that restraint, sometimes.”

The chill of his fingers between mine soothed the burn that simmered beneath my skin whenever we were together. I touched the crescent scar at his throat, and his eyes never left my face – half-smiling, half-puzzled.

“I love that you try, Nicholas,” I said, meeting his gaze through my lashes.

Something fierce blazed in him – recognition, possession, triumph all at once. He knew I was his, and he was mine.

“Years o’ hard work, and here ye are, undoing it all with a few words.” He traced a finger along my jaw. “It’s no exactly fair.”

I smiled. “I never claimed to play fair.”

Pulling his face to mine, our lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle. Months of holding back crashed over us like a wave. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming me with a hunger that I could barely understand.

Enveloped in his arms, I felt delicate despite my strength. The solid wall of his chest met mine as he gathered me close, his touch chilling me through my clothes. In a motion too swift to track, we were in my bedroom below. My heart skipped a beat as my brain caught up with my body, and his mouth quirked up between kisses. He walked me backwards until my legs hit the bed.

“Are you expectin’ something o’ me, Erin?” he whispered against my throat, his voice like rough velvet. His lips trailed a path downward, brushing sensitive skin as he explored my collarbone. He slid one hand down my back, gripping my hip and pulling me flush to him.

“I’m beginning to,” I managed, breathless.

“Then I should warn ye,” he murmured, a wicked light in his emerald eyes as he laid me back on the bed with surprising gentleness. His weight was deliciously heavy as he pinned me beneath him. “Those talents I mentioned afore? I’ve had centuries to perfect them.” The evidence of his desire pressed insistently against my thigh, and heat flared low in my belly. I rocked against him instinctively, drawing a low growl from his throat that sent shivers racing across my skin.

“Centuries?” I teased, grinding against him. “Prove it.”

His pupils dilated, a fierce hunger crossing his face. “Oh, I intend to, love.”

We were still for a moment, caught in each other’s gaze. Slowly, he laid a hand over my racing heart, the other tangled in the waves of my hair. I wrapped my legs around his waist, crushing myself against him.

“I knew you were worth waitin’ for.” His eyes raked over me and his hands found the hem of my shirt. “May I?”

I lifted my arms as he pulled it up and over my head. His fingers made quick work of my bra clasp, the lace falling away as his cool hands traced my veins. His soft intake of breath at the sight of my bare skin made me smile.

“It doesn’t seem fair. I’ve barely waited at all.” I slipped my hands under his shirt, brushing away the soft cotton to discover the smooth, hard planes of his chest. He deftly unbuttoned and shrugged off the dark fabric, revealing the honed, lean muscle beneath and an ancient tattoo that curved around his ribs and side – a series of intricate Celtic knots and symbols.

As I traced the lines of ink across the ridges of his muscles, my fingers found other marks – scars that vampirism hadn’t erased. A ragged mark across his stomach that looked like a sword thrust, and a star-shaped scar by his shoulder that might have been an arrow wound. I took my time studying each one, trailing my fingertips across the lines of his muscles, warming his skin with my touch.

He shuddered beneath my hands, his eyes half-closed as he mirrored my exploration, finding the silvery mark that split my collarbone, where a vamp had nearly torn out my throat four years ago. The puckered circle on my shoulder from a stake that had missed its mark, back when I’d thought wood was an acceptable weapon. Each one was a jagged reminder of hunts gone wrong.

“Battle scars,” he murmured, almost unhappy with understanding. His callused fingers followed a particularly vicious scar beneath my ribs with awe rather than pity. But we’d waited long enough, and his mouth soon found mine again with a renewed hunger.

When I reached for the waistband of his jeans, his fingers found the button of mine instead, his eyes holding my own as he artfully peeled the fitted denim down my legs. I kicked off my boots, and his eyes flickered to the slim blade that tumbled out onto the floor. One side of his mouth curved up into a knowing smile.

“Always prepared, eh?” he purred. “I dinnae think you’ll be needin’ any weapons tonight, love, but I admire a lass who can handle her… steel.”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks as his wide eyes moved reverently over my body, and I thanked the fates I’d worn my nice underwear. His own jeans hung loose and low on his hips, and when I reached for his belt again, he let me tug it free. The soft, ancient denim fell away, and I couldn’t resist a small smile at the sight of his bare feet – somehow, they made him seem more human.

Growing more focused and intense, he swooped down to kiss me again, deeper this time. His tongue tasted of mint and snow, dipping and nipping at my lips while one hand eased up my thigh, his fingers teasing along the ultra-sensitive skin until I trembled.

“And as for no waitin’, I can forgive it.” The words hummed against my lips as his hand continued its torturous path upward. I urged him closer, arching up to press my bare chest against his, gasping at the electric feeling of ice against fire. His other hand tangled in my hair, exposing my throat to his hungry kisses, punctuating each word. “Anythin’ for you, love. Fire. Torment. I’ll raze the world bloody, so long as I can keep ye.”

Time disappeared into fluttering moments of need and want – the chill of his hands trailing fire down my sides; the tight muscles of his back flexing beneath my hands as I learned every inch of him; the shiver that ran through me as he kissed my earlobe, my throat, across my collarbone, and down my sternum to my heart.

He mapped every sensitive spot with soft strokes and kisses, already sure of what made me sigh and pull close against him, balancing desire and anticipation on a knife edge. Nicholas played my body like an instrument he’d mastered lifetimes ago, bringing me to the precipice with deliberate touches before easing away, building a tension in my core so exquisite it bordered on pain.

I writhed beneath him, utterly at his mercy and desperately trying to hold on to some semblance of sanity. His eyes followed every response of my body, drinking in each gasp and moan with undisguised delight. When I arched into his touch, he growled his approval, the vibration travelling through his chest into mine.

“You know…” I managed, breathless. “Your timing is… questionable.”

As his palm slid down my stomach to trace the edge of my underwear, my hips rose to meet him instinctively. He hooked one finger in the waistband, drawing them swiftly away, his eyes burning into me with a smirk. “Aye, but my execution is flawless.”

I had to agree, as he ran the lightest of touches across my inner thighs, stroking upward with tantalising patience until he reached his target – working my body as though he’d known it his whole life. His kisses shadowed the path of his hands, until he settled at the apex of my thighs. I gasped at the surprising warmth of his tongue.

Driving my hips against him, with him, his tonguefound my swollen centre and a strangled cry tore from my throat. He slipped one finger inside me, then another, curling them to hit that perfect spot while his tongue worked tight, merciless circles and strokes in time with his fingers.

I couldn’t hold back. My hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, his skilled mouth and fingers driving me higher until I was begging with need. The sweet, coiled tension inside me built to an unbearable peak before I broke completely, my entire body convulsing as fire flooded through me and I came apart beneath him with a cry .

His answering growl vibrated against my skin. “There’s the sweet sound I’ve been dreamin’ of,” he murmured against me. The look on his face was pure satisfaction, his gaze locked on my face from between my thighs, his lips still wet. He hadn’t been lying about his talents, that was for sure. But I wanted more. I wanted all of him.

Drawing himself upward, his usually emerald eyes were almost black, the golden flecks catching the lamplight like embers. The faint dusting of freckles across his nose made him seem almost young despite the predatory grace of his movements, and I drank in every detail of his face, learning it by heart. His mouth found my breast again, sucking hard enough to make me cry out. I buried my hands in his hair, holding him there as the fire burned through me in aftershocks of pleasure. The crush of his body, his careful strength as he held me – it was enough to make my muscles draw taut with need again.

His teeth grazed my nipple, and I didn’t hesitate to give in to the sensation. As he moved himself between my legs, his hair brushed against me like silk – the otherworldly coolness of him a delicious remedy for my burning flesh. His familiar scent of earth and pine grew stronger as his breath ghosted across my skin, and my hands flew to his hips, fumbling until he helped me remove the last barrier between us, freeing all of him at last.

I couldn’t resist exploring him further, wrapping my hand around his length. Nicholas inhaled sharply, his eyes heavy with desire, jaw clenching as he fought for the control I so desperately wanted to break. As I stroked him, feeling the sheer size of him, hard and ready against my palm, he groaned, jerking involuntarily into my touch, his head falling back to expose the strong column of his throat and the crescent-shaped scar there.

“Careful, love,” he whispered. “Even my control has limits.”

I tightened my grip, thrilled by his response – by the power I had over him. His body trembled beneath my fingers, his defined abdomen tensing with each stroke of my hand, Celtic knots dancing. I tilted my neck back, exposing the bare flesh as I continued caressing him. “Maybe I want you unrestrained.”

“You dinnae ken what you’re askin’.” He pulled himself back to rest on one arm and drew an errant lock of hair away from my shoulder.

Anticipation made my pulse race beneath his fingertips. “Yes, I do. I want all of you.”

He hesitated, but I pulled him down toward me again. When his sharp teeth broke the skin above my collarbone, my entire body shook. The sting of his bite dissolved into sweet ecstasy as my blood flooded his tongue and he groaned against me, shuddering with me. I felt the moment he truly lost himself in the sensation, a primal growl vibrating from deep in his chest, the fire in my soul filling him.

When he withdrew, he gazed at me open-mouthed, his pupils blown wide in the dim light. A tremor ran through him, electricity skittering across my skin in response. His teeth caught his bottom lip, scarlet welling from the cut. He kissed me again, and the coppery tang made my head swim, awakening something dark within me. The fire in my blood burned anew, brighter and more terrifying than I’d ever known it.

When he broke the kiss and finally moved between my thighs, he settled back against me and I caught a flash of something wild in his eyes – darkness barely contained by his ever-present iron restraint. A darkness of my own leapt up to meet him, but I knew he was still holding back.

I arched my hips up against him, and the initial press of him entering me drew a soft gasp from my lips. His jaw clenched, but a low moan escaped as my body yielded, slowly accepting every inch.

“Gods, Erin,” he breathed, his voice breaking on my name.

At first, each movement he made was measured, though I could feel the power held in check beneath his muscles. A sound of pure pleasure rumbled deep in his throat as I wrapped my legs around him again, locking my ankles and erasing any space between us. His eyes sought mine, a vulnerability there I hadn’t expected to see – a question.

I answered by rocking my hips up to match his thrust, drawing a quiet snarl from deep in his chest. His control was a visible thing, straining beneath his skin.

“Don’t. Hold. Back,” I whispered against his throat.

Nicholas growled in response, pulling almost completely out before slamming back into me with enough force to make the headboard crack against the wall. I cried out in response, almost undone again, and he set a punishing rhythm, each thrust hitting places so deep within me I hadn’t known they existed.

“Yes,” I gasped, digging my fingers into his shoulders as he nipped at my throat again. “Fucking yes .”

The dual sensation of his teeth marking my flesh and the feeling of him inside me, filling me completely, was almost overwhelming. I tensed my thighs, capturing his hips and urging him deeper, harder – feeling his restraint slip further with each stroke.

“I dinnae—” he groaned, his rhythm faltering slightly as pleasure overtook him. “Gods!” Though usually breathless, his breathing now came in ragged gasps, his eyes wild as they locked on mine.

The world fell away as we moved together, my cheap wooden bed frame protesting beneath us as he drove into me with supernatural strength, his muscles rippling with each powerful thrust as he lost himself in our shared rhythm. He flipped us suddenly, pulling me astride him without breaking our connection.

The new angle drove him impossibly deeper, and something inside me snapped. I stopped holding back. Stopped worrying about who he was, his past, his darkness and what it meant. I rode him with desperation, driving myself into him, forgetting everything outside the feeling of him, and his callused hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise anyone else, guiding me up and down his length.

“Take it all,” he rumbled, his voice hoarse. “All ye need. I’m yours, love.”

The reverence in his face was almost too much to bear. My name fell from his lips like a plea with each rise and fall of my hips, the heat at my core building to an impossible peak. When his thumb found my centre again, dancing and circling in perfect rhythm with our movements, I shattered completely. My inner walls clamped down around him as wave after wave of molten fire crashed through me, and I held on to him like a lifeline.

“Nicholas,” I gasped, my voice unrecognisable. Free. His hips bucked up wildly, all control finally abandoned as his own release claimed him, emerald eyes fixed on mine as his body tensed beneath me. His strong hands gripped my thighs, holding me firmly against him as he pulsed inside me, triggering another heady climax that had me begging for oblivion.

The world began to fade into focus again and our urgency slowed, though we stayed tangled together. I found myself resting on his now-warm chest, bedsheets scattered around us, listening to the slow, drawn-out beats of his heart. My breathing was the sole sound in the room; his body only occasionally rising and falling.

Nicholas’s fingertips danced lazy patterns on my back, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of my head. “In all my years waitin’… searchin’…” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper in the dark. “I ne’er truly kent what ye’d mean to me, love.”

Moonlight spilled through the open curtains, gilding his profile and casting shadows across the network of scars across his skin. His sooty lashes cast shadows in the hollows beneath his eyes, and I memorised every detail: the sharp angle of his jaw, the straight line of his nose, the fullness of his swollen lips. Light caught his brow as he shifted, and I resisted the urge to touch him – I didn’t want to break his perfect peace.

“Erin.” My name was a sigh. No more words were needed.

My eyes grew heavy as I glanced at the clock – it was almost four in the morning. Contentment drew me into dreamless sleep.

???

I n the dark street outside, the vampire stood motionless – a statue hidden in the shadow beyond the light of the streetlamps. They watched the unlit house, waiting. It was almost time. Everything was in motion. Soon they would breathe freely again, for the first time in decades.