Maybe Aleric was right—he did have much more experience with human company, after all. Up until now, Warin’s interest in a human hadn’t lasted more than a single night—and he’d enjoyed their terror.
With effort and a grimace, he quieted the rumble in his chest and retracted his aching fangs.
The woman did look maybe a fraction less terrified.
“Now what?” he asked, in Saxon, so she wouldn’t understand.
“Depends what you want to do with her, I guess,” was the bored answer.
What did he want to do with her? He looked down at Thea, mildly perplexed. When he’d arisen, it had been with one purpose: find her, and fix the aching feeling of wrong in his gut.
But now that he had her, other urges were rising to the surface. Many he didn’t understand, but there was one he knew—and knew what to do about.
Thea gasped sharply when the hand not pinning her wrists delved between her legs and wedged up under her skirt.
“No!” she snapped, some of the anger from before returning to her gaze. But the scent of fear also returned, and she began struggling as frantically as a fish on a line.
Huffing, Warin withdrew his hand. Had she been anyone else, he would have forced pleasure upon her until her body contradicted her no’s, and then relished her broken sobs as her flesh betrayed her spirit.
But that harrowing smell of her terror clung to the roof of his mouth, dampening his mood for the pleasures a female could provide, if not his need.
“No?” he hissed, sitting back up to gain a bit of distance from her unsettling scent. He was still straddling her thighs, and the heat from her seeped into his cold flesh, ensuring his cock stayed hard and aching. “I spare your life and you deny me?”
“You slaughtered my people!” she spat back at him, struggling uselessly against his hold. “You burned my village! I will never yield to you, demon!”
Warin opened his mouth to deny her accusations, but stopped himself before he could. To her he was just another of the raiders who’d pillaged her home. Perhaps she even thought they were all demons, as she called him.
Though, to be fair, he had cut down his share of her people. Feasted on their blood.
“I never burned anything,” he said. “And I spared you when I could easily have taken your life and everything that goes with it. What more do you want?”
“Let me go,” she said, voice trembling though she steadied herself to look him straight in the eyes. “I want to leave.”
Those green eyes… they were as mesmerizing now as they’d been in her hut. Something deep within them pulled on him so strongly he was certain he would lose himself in their depths. And yet the longer he looked, the more he wanted to.
“I will never let you go,” he said softly. “Whatever spell you’ve woven to trap me so, it has worked. You will be with me always.”
She didn’t respond this time, just looked up at him with fear and hatred all too plain.
Sighing, he got to his feet and pulled her with him. He had to drag her by the arm to get her to return to the campfire where Aleric waited.
“You could just Compel her,” his brother said when Warin had to force her to sit down next to him, hand clamped around her ankle to stop her from trying to run again. Aleric was right—humans were frail, and she could easily break her neck if she tried to run through the forest at night.
“No.”
“So what’s the plan, then? Get the girl to fall heedlessly in love with you of her own volition? Follow you around like a faithful dog?”
Despite Aleric's obvious mocking, the beast in Warin’s chest rose with a pleased snarl. Yes. Something like that sounded… almost right. Eagerly he twisted to look at his captive, and found his elation souring instantly at the hostile stare she leveled at him.
It dawned on him that in his maybe three hundred years on this Earth, he’d never taken the time to learn how to make someone like him. Fear him, yes. Respect him, often. Like?
Perhaps once upon a time, before the Night embraced him.
A full body shudder rattled through him as memories so vile they threatened to eviscerate his senses crept in at the edges of his consciousness.
No. He would never think of those years.
And the time that came before, when he was still human, didn’t exist. He had never been anyone but the ferocious vampire who even Ancients were wary of.
“How?” He turned to Aleric without releasing his grip on the human woman. “How do I make her love me?”
The other vampire’s eyebrows met his hairline. The question had no doubt taken him by surprise—mainly because this was the first time Warin had ever cared that anyone liked him, save Aleric himself. And their relationship was forged in the blood that flowed through their veins.
“What is it with this girl?” Aleric asked, his voice agitated now. “Why her? Why now? You’ve never shown interest in human companionship before. What is so special about this blood sack?!”
“I don’t know! And I don’t care. I want her. And I want her to want me. But I don’t know how.” He made an agitated gesture with his free hand. “She doesn’t even want to mate!”
Aleric heaved a deep sigh as he looked to the girl, then back at Warin. “Fine. Fine. If this is what it will take to get you remotely civilized, I’ll help. It would be fantastic to occasionally enter civilization without someone throwing a fit and slaughtering half the town before we’ve even had a chance to visit the local whorehouse.”
“It happened once,” Warin bit back, though the mirth dancing in his brother’s eyes cooled his indignation at the accusation. “And if I recall correctly, you partook quite happily in that slaughter.”
“It would have been a pity to let such a feast go to waste,” Aleric said, a wry smile playing on his lips.
Warin sighed at the memory. That incident had caused them quite a bit of trouble with the Ancient ruling over the territory spanning that town. “So, you will help me win her favor?” he asked, eying his brother.
Aleric sighed again and made a vague gesture toward the creek trickling nearby. “Yes, I will help. You can start with taking a bath. You look like a feral beast—women don’t often appreciate a roll in the hay with a man caked in dirt and dried blood. And do something about your hair, too.”
* * *
It took longer than he’d anticipated to rinse the dried grime off his skin, and even though he’d spent a good twenty minutes working on his hair, it still hung down below his shoulder blades in matted ropes when he gave up and waded out of the water again.
What did it matter, anyway? How did his appearance have any bearing on what Thea thought of him? He didn’t mind what she looked like—he would be as enthralled if she were covered in pockmarks and feces, because the throb of her heartbeat would still sing to him. And her eyes would still call to that achy something lodged in his chest where his heart had once drummed as rhythmically as hers.
Most likely, Aleric had just played a trick on him. The younger vampire had an apt sense of humor and an irritating tendency to let his mischief loose at the worst of times.