He also frequently nagged Warin about bathing more.
As irritated as Warin was with himself for falling so easily for his brother’s game, he was equally as annoyed with Aleric for taking advantage of his distracted state of mind. He left his wet clothes to dry over a rock and returned to the campfire.
Thea sat opposite Aleric, keeping a wary eye on him. She hadn’t tried to run again while Warin was preoccupied by the creek, which was good. He took it as a sign that she was starting to accept she had to stay with him.
“You can relax. My brother will not hurt you, either,” Warin said in her native tongue as he came into the circle of light cast by the burning logs.
Thea jolted at his appearance—her dulled human senses hadn’t picked up on his approach—and a small gasp escaped her.
For a moment, he took it as nothing more than her surprise… But then, as he was about to turn his attention to his brother and scold him for his cheap trick, Thea’s eyes slid down his naked torso and blood rushed to her cheeks, coloring them a delicious shade of pink. When her gaze dipped below his navel, her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She was scenting him.
Even if it was only a subconscious reaction to long-forgotten, primitive instincts, Warin knew what that meant.
She desired him.
Heat rose like a firestorm in his gut and spread out through his limbs in a pleasurable wave. Aleric had been right—washing the dirt off his body so she could see it better had been smart.
There had been a long time when he’d hated his body for the pain it brought him, and even though those nights were long since past and buried in the darkness, Warin couldn’t remember a time he had been pleased with someone admiring his physique.
Until tonight.
His cock stiffened, hard and thick between his thighs, but instead of being pleased that he was ready to satisfy her, Thea recoiled in horror and turned away as if the sight of his manhood repulsed her. As if she hadn’t just looked at him with blatant desire.
Clenching his jaw at her sudden change in demeanor, Warin took a step toward her to force her to look at him again, but the sound of his brother’s voice stopped him.
“Wait.”
“For what?” Warin growled.
Aleric heaved a deep sigh. Warin had the distinct impression he wouldn’t be the most patient teacher, but he was the only one available. And besides, he was the only one Warin would ever trust enough to admit his need for guidance. “She’s still terrified. Look at her—she’s not going to voluntarily spread her legs until she no longer sees you as a damn demon.”
“I bathed!” Warin protested.
“Yes, that’s great. You’re now a clean demon. Now put her at ease—talk to her. Make her think your fangs are intriguing rather than dangerous.”
Warin shot him a suspicious look at that last comment. Something he’d had to go over again and again when Aleric was still a youngling was the need for secrecy. They could never reveal what they were to any human they weren’t going to drink. Frail as humans were, they numbered far too many for it to be safe for any information about the monsters who hunted them to spread.
“And just who have you been cajoling with your intriguing fangs, brother?” he asked him, eyebrow raised in challenge.
Aleric waved him off. “Unless you plan on Compelling that girl, you’ve got no hope of playing the Masquerade with her. She knows what you are—so if you want her to bed with you, she will need to understand there is more than a monster behind the fangs.”
Warin paused, frowning. He’d never thought he was more than a monster. Aleric… Aleric was different. Even with this curse upon him, there was more within him.
He’d been a great Viking warrior when their Sire claimed him. A true prize for the bloodline. But as much as Warin had thanked the stars above for bestowing him with a blood brother as faithful and strong as Aleric, he cursed his Sire for dooming a spirit like Aleric's to the Eternal Night. He’d deserved so much more.
That was not Warin’s fate. He knew his spirit was twisted beyond salvation. Even if he’d had a soul, it would’ve been sullied past the point of redemption long ago. He remembered the monster he’d seen reflected in Thea’s eyes all too vividly.
It was all he’d ever been.
And up until last night, it was all he’d ever wanted to be.
So how could he ever hope to show her something that wasn’t there?
“Just sit with her. Tell her your name. Ask her about her life,” Aleric said, clearly taking pity on his Elder’s deflated disposition. “But for Odin’s sake, put some pants on first.”
Chapter 5
Warin
“My name is Warin.”
The girl looked at him, eyes narrowed with mistrust as he sat down next to her. He was close enough to reach for her, and his palms ached to do so, but he resisted. Aleric was right—she didn’t trust him, and so far forcing physical contact hadn’t done anything to change that—quite the contrary.
“Not ‘demon.’ Warin.”
“But you are a demon.” She said it as a statement, but there was a question in her eyes.
“No,” he said. “Something else.”
“What?”
“My kind has many names. Nightwalker… Cold One… Vampire.”
“Cold One?” she asked.
Silently, he held out a hand toward her. Only after he closed his eyes, offering her the illusion of a measure of safety, did she gingerly touch her fingertips to his.
“You’re freezing cold,” she whispered, confusion and awe in her voice. “How can your heart beat when your flesh is as frozen as a dead man’s?”
He opened his eyes, capturing her gaze. “My heart does not beat.”
Shock and horror flittered across her face, but also… curiosity. Slowly, while keeping a wary eye on his face to ensure he wouldn’t move, she placed her palm against his chest. It was so warm against his skin, and he could feel the faint drum of her pulse. It was like being touched by life itself.
She kept her hand against his chest for several long moments, waiting for the thud of a heart that hadn’t beaten for centuries. When she finally gave up and pulled her hand away, her expression revealed more bewilderment than fear. “How are you alive? Are you a witch?”
He didn’t take offense to her question, even if Aleric muttered a Saxon curse at her presumption. She’d lived all her life in a remote village—anything unexplainable would be presumed to be witchcraft.
“It may be magic that animates my body, but no. I am not a witch,” he explained, keeping his voice gentle. Her curiosity seemed to dampen her fear of him just a little, and he found he liked it. For a moment, the glow of wonder in her eyes as she took in the magnitude of a man who could walk and talk without a heart beating in his chest seemed to win out.