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Maurice

H as there ever been a more glorious banquet laid out before me than this?

I hardly know where to begin. Njáll wants me to fuck him, of course, and though he’s putting in an admirable effort to keep his arms where I put them, his hips twitch beneath mine, the muscles in his thighs already trembling.

I want to take my time. I want him as much as he wants me—perhaps even more, but who can tell—but I also want to drive him out of his mind. Two days. The clock is already ticking, and when we are done, I want to be seared on him, inside and out.

No job will keep me away for long. I will ensure it. His duties will not force us apart, either. If a high fae bent on taking over this realm could not do it…

Njáll stretches up, arching his back, and I rub one hand over the centre of his chest. His heart. He meant it. All of him is mine.

All of me is his.

I kiss him again before I unfasten the lube, and he shifts beneath me in anticipation. The way in is tight, Njáll hissing through his teeth as I push one slick finger inside. I bite back my own moan.

“More,” Njáll says, too quickly, but we know our own limits, and he groans more loudly at the burn I assume he feels. His cock rests hard and heavy against his stomach. I tease it with a featherlight touch, slowly stretching him open at the same time with my other hand.

“Do you want to come like this?”

“No. I want you inside of me.”

“I am,” I say and push my two fingers deeper. It’s worth it for the way his mouth falls open, his next breath a desperate pant. “Is this not good enough?”

“You’re a prick, Maurice.” Njáll laughs, and I lower my head to bite the inside of his thigh.

“That’s what you want.”

His lips twitch again. I laugh this time, tossing my head back with it, and when I look at him again, his expression is soft and fond.

“Yes, it is.” He reaches for me, threading our fingers together, and I lean over him as I continue to stretch him open. He doesn’t wince at the third finger—he groans and pushes back against me—and I let my own arousal wash over me, giving in to what we both want.

Njáll’s hand tightens around mine when I pull my fingers out. He doesn’t let go of me when I line up, and I keep my eyes trained on his face as I finally, finally push inside him.

“Fuck,” Njáll murmurs. I thrust until my hips press against his arse and he drops his head back onto the pillow, breathing hard. The tendons on his throat stand out, pulse thrumming beneath that, and my entire body shakes as I wait, trying to remain still.

“Ready?” I ask.

He snorts. “I thought you were going to make me forget everyone else, Maurice?”

I flash my fangs, which makes him laugh, but when I thrust in hard, he cries out in surprise.

I don’t stop. He’s not breakable—neither of us is—and from the way he’s grabbing at me, trying to pull me closer, I know he wants this.

Wants to be full, wants to ache… And I know I will give him whatever he wants. He should know that, too.

Deep inside me, my magic flares and reaches out as I fuck Njáll hard. The bed rocks, banging against the wall, but neither of us cares about that. I plant my free hand next to his head. He grabs onto my forearm immediately, as though he needs to keep me there, needs me close.

“Keep hold of me like that,” I say, watching the way his eyelids flutter when my cock grazes his prostate, “and I won’t be able to touch your cock.”

“Don’t need it.” His words slur together, and fuck, I thought without my blood he might not be so desperate for it, but he is .

“You’re going to feed my ego.”

“You talk so much .”

“Fucker.” I kiss him again, and he tries to keep up, but it’s difficult when every other breath turns into a moan. I’m not slowing. I’m close already, so fucking close, and my magic is somehow enhancing that pleasure, twisting through my veins as though it has a mind of its own.

I feel some reach out, and Njáll cries out more loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Maurice…”

“I-I didn’t…” But he’s not hurt. I don’t think it wants to hurt him, and for all that I love my magic, know my magic, I have never experienced this before. I have failed to harness it, at times, but I have never believed it has a mind of its own.

Njáll grips my arm even tighter. My magic prickles over him, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I kiss his jaw, and he turns his face towards me, eyes still closed.

“Do it,” I say, kissing him quickly. “You know you want to.”

“Fuck, Maurice—” The cry he lets out makes my cock stiffen even more inside of him, balls drawing up, but that’s not what tips me over the edge.

No. My magic sinks into him, marking him inside out in much the same way I am doing, and as I feel Njáll’s cum spatter between us, I come too, marking him physically as well as magically.

I collapse on top of him a second later, and Njáll grunts but brings his arms up to wrap around me.

“That… Was that…” His voice is almost painfully hoarse, but since it will heal in a few minutes anyway, I allow myself a smile.

It slides off my face a moment later. I can feel him, somehow: his curiosity, his sated pleasure. Have we…?

“I, um…” I trail off, and Njáll lifts his head to look at me then because we both know I am rarely without words. “I think we just bonded.”

“Vampires don’t bond.” The words are flat, but I feel a tremulous mixture of wonder and fear.

“No,” I say. I push up onto my elbows so I can better look at him. “But the fae do. Famously so. Fae bonds are… They’re basically impossible to break.”

“So by having sex just now, we bonded ourselves together for the rest of our lives?”

“And beyond, maybe. They soulbond. We’ve…”

“Soulbonded?”

I can’t look him in the eyes. “Yes.”

When I do dare look up again, Njáll is wearing a wry smile. After a second, he laughs, and his delight—because, oh , he’s happy about this development—echoes through my magic, making it shudder and reach for him.

He shivers when it moves over his skin. “Think I can use it?”

“Does it feel like you can?” I’m not being curt. I’m genuinely curious.

He sighs. “No. That would have been interesting.”

We kiss, slow and sated, and I feel the way sleep drags at him now; the same way it does at me. “I don’t think things need to be more interesting around here, love.”

“Love?”

“I thought that was a given.”

“It is nice, Maurice, to hear these things from time to time.”

I nip his jaw. “I said I would give you my magic , Njáll,” I counter. “Is that not the same thing?”

He looks at me seriously. “For you, it is,” he says, and when he captures my mouth, it is hot and hungry and has me squirming in his arms. “But I’ll say it anyway,” he murmurs in my ear. “I love you.”

“Well, if you have to hear it…”

He laughs.

“I love you, too.”

Two nights later, I find myself at the Wild Hunt’s London base again. Sunset was a few hours ago, but Njáll woke me with his mouth on my cock, and then we were… distracted.

I snort to myself as I push open the front door and make my way into the house.

My magic has never been so attuned as it is right now.

It reaches for the newly erected wards and then for the other fae-blessed people in the house, and I am only a little surprised to find that more than just Vlad and Grant are here.

When I walk into the living room, Paxton looks up from the armchair he has ensconced himself in. He has a book in his hands, and he does not close it.

“You’re late,” Jeremiah says.

I shrug. “I had better things to be doing.”

He grins, a fleeting expression, before he leans against the arm of Paxton’s chair. Grant is on the sofa, his own book open, and he shuffles around onto his knees, eyes roaming over me. “Are you all right? Is your magic…?”

“It’s all good.” I frown, looking around. “Where’s your sire?”

Grant rolls his eyes and drops back into his reclined position. I wince at the way his neck jolts with the movement, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. “Kitchen. With Asher.”

I head in that direction, ignoring the feel of Jeremiah’s eyes on me as I go. I’m willing to ask him about it later, but Vlad might have better answers for me, so that is where I plan to begin.

Sure enough, he and Asher are inside, Vlad leaning against the counter to watch as Asher cooks himself and Paxton a meal.

“I have a job for you,” Vlad says when I enter. “The information is in the living room, with—”

“I need to ask you something.”

Asher tilts his head but doesn’t stop what he’s doing. Vlad frowns. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing… bad.”

“Maurice.”

“Njáll and I bonded.”

Asher drops the spoon he’s holding. Vlad’s eyes go wide. Out in the living room, I hear Jeremiah let out a squawk, and in the next moment, he’s standing in the doorway, staring at me just like the rest of them.

“You… what?” Vlad asks.

“We didn’t—It didn’t happen on purpose! It just—My magic—”

“Your magic bonded you?” Jeremiah frowns, leaning against the doorway. “And you didn’t do anything?”

“I didn’t think it was a possibility. Only wolves and the fae have bonds.”

“Vampires have sire-turn bonds,” Asher points out.

“ I didn’t turn him,” I snap, and Asher shrugs.

I might be panicking. Just a little. But I can’t ask the Huntsman about this—because I don’t trust he won’t turn on us again, despite the fact that I know he needs his hunters right now—and I don’t know where else to go.

“Strange things happen when we…” Vlad trails off, and his eyes flick past me, and I know he’s thinking about Grant. “You were a witch who became a vampire and then got his magic back again. It makes some sense that something unusual might occur.”

“Is it a true soulbond?” Jeremiah asks. There’s some banked longing in his eyes, though he blinks it away when his gaze meets mine.

“It feels permanent,” I say. “I’m not… He’s happy about it, we’re happy about it, but I don’t know what it means.”

“Pretty sure bonds mean that you’re meant to be together,” Asher says, stirring whatever he has in his pan again. He doesn’t look up at any of us, and his voice is tenser than I expect. “They’re proof of a compatible connection. If it wasn’t meant to be, your magic wouldn’t have done it.”

“And all the vampires out there with shitty sires?” Jeremiah says dryly.

“A connection, then,” Asher corrects. “Something meant to be.”

“Are we really talking about fate? We aren’t wolves,” Jeremiah replies.

Asher shrugs. He looks at Jeremiah. “Doesn’t matter, apparently. We’re fae enough,” he says and grimaces, and I don’t know what he sees in Jeremiah’s expression, but I miss it. “Or Maurice is, with his magic. You said it feels permanent.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s what you both want?”

“Yes.”

Asher shrugs again, turning back to his pan. “Then be happy about it. Don’t catastrophise. We have enough to worry about.”

That nicely sours the mood, and as Asher pours out his and Paxton’s soup—a filling dinner, I see—I make my way back into the living room. Jeremiah and Vlad are still whispering behind me as I drop onto the sofa next to Grant.

“He’ll get over it,” Paxton says.

“Jeremiah?”

“Who else?”

Grant looks between us and frowns. “I’m missing something.”

“Nothing that important,” I say, and when I ruffle his hair, he bats my hand away, but he’s smiling now. “What are you reading this time?”

He launches into an excited explanation of the book in his hands, and Paxton’s smile is indulgent across from us, though he’s pretending not to listen, and I poke at that soft, warm place inside me that holds all my magic and now, my connection to Njáll as well.

His love travels back to me, and I smile when Grant stops talking because the others are joining us; Asher hands Paxton a bowl a second after Jeremiah plucks the book from his hands, and Vlad sits on my other side, reaching for something under the coffee table.

I could have avoided all this. I could have insisted on my return to the Highlands after the Huntsman told me my work with Njáll was done, and perhaps I would not be here right now, with these people that I am clearly closer to than I ever thought.

“Here.” Vlad presses something into my hands.

My fingers curl around my knife, magic seeping from me and into the blade without a thought.

“Thank you.”

“Do not thank me yet. You are the one who asked if we could help, so this first one is for you.”

Grant makes a disgruntled sound, but I only roll my eyes. “Okay. What do you have for me?”