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The piercing, frigid air of the night clashed against Wriothesley’s fiery pit of a body that was worn to exhaustion as he trudged through the forest, his gait swaying and unsteady. Pesky, those paranormal hunters were. They couldn’t even land a scratch on him, but they sure as hell tired him out. He could really go for a drink. The melusine that he had saved from the hunters had offered him a sip of her milkshake which he blindly took and… well, putting aside its unique taste, it was not quite the thirst quencher he was looking for.
Tea. A cup of tea would be nice.
Yet the refreshment seemed so far away—in a literal sense, at that. Wriothesley had walked the melusine to her home after the whole ordeal to make sure she made it back safely, and now he was in new territory; somewhere in the outskirts of the Court of Fontaine. His best navigation tool (his nose) was clogged from the scent bombs that were thrown by the hunters (did they really have to make it citrus?). An inward sigh. If he were a warlock, he would make it so his feet would magically carry him back to his little shack of a den, but alas, presently he was but a simple, lost werewolf.
Well, it wasn’t as if he was attached to his ‘home’ anyways, he could just start anew and find some abandoned structure to live in.
Either way though, perhaps worry should creep up on Wriothesley’s back and yank his head up so he could be aware of his surroundings rather than stare down at the ground while he heaved with each step. After all, there could be more hunters lurking about, or worse, there could even be dangerous creatures like a—
“Oof,” huffed Wriothesley, eyes pinching shut as he collided into something very firm. Before he could stumble back, he felt two hands seize his waist and next thing he knew it he was hoisted into the air as if he were a petulant pup, a mix between a yelp and a growl caught in his throat.
“Your scent, it—oh, you really are a werewolf.” a syrupy smooth voice spoke out.
Kick. Howl. Claw. Wriothesley was about to do all of the aforementioned, but when his eyes flew open any kind of fight left his body for what his vision graced him with: cascading silvery long hair where each strand shimmered in the moonlight framed milky skin, and a medley of violet, red, and blue speckled like stardust in strikingly sharp eyes that twinkled curiously at him. An otherworldly feel for even one that was already in the world of the supernatural.
Though that trance soon broke when Wriothesley zoned in on the man’s slightly agape mouth, alarm bells began ringing for those two pointy fangs were unmistakable.
Vampire.
Fate was not on his side today, it seemed. Vampires and werewolves were natural enemies, and since the dawn of time the two species have done their best to stay out of each other’s territories. Wriothesley himself never had any pleasant encounters with one before, and this one seemed particularly powerful.
“I have never seen a werewolf up close before.”
Wriothesley was fucked.
“Your tail and ears look very fluffy. I… I like that. Yes, I will bring you home and take good care of you.”
Oh, he was definitely fucked.
And not particularly in the way he would have liked to have been if the being in front of him were anything but a vampire. Take good care of? No, at this rate he would be chained down and used as a blood bag for the rest of his life, never to see the sun nor moon ever again.
His thoughts were only confirmed when the vampire slung him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes then set off at an astonishing speed. Blurs smeared his vision, he couldn’t perceive a thing which made it feel like this whole situation was a dream. Pinch me so I’ll wake up he would say, but the whistling wind beating harshly against his skin and the iron grip on his body were a hundred times stronger than any pinch and told him completely otherwise.
“We are here.”
The world came to a halt, Wriothesley’s limbs feeling like jelly. His dizzied eyes adjusted back to his surroundings—they were inside now, he hadn’t even realized the vampire opened a door—and took in bookcases, antiques, old fashioned furniture; the yellowish warm lighting from lamps casted on browns and greens. At least there were no weapons or dead bodies in sight. Actually, compared to his own place which was far from stellar with its dingy paint-peeling walls and scratched up furniture, in here it felt… rather cozy.
“You must be hungry. I will feed you…but… oh… I do not believe I have any food that would suit your palate…” the vampire was mumbling, pacing around, “…there is much to think about. Perhaps I should unbar my windows so you can look at the moon? And do werewolves sleep on the ground? There are a couple of spare bedrooms but there is no furniture. I do not have a leash or a collar for you either…” The clicks of the vampire’s heels grew heavier with each thought, a sigh punctuating the end.
Right when Wriothesley began to struggle, he was put down near the front door, and the werewolf did not imagine the wistful linger of the vampire’s fingers dragging at his waist.
“What am I even doing… I do not possess the knowledge nor capability to properly maintain a werewolf. I sincerely apologize for all of this. My enthusiasm got the better of me.” He tucked a loose white strand behind his ear. “I—ah, well… you are very beautiful, I just wanted to keep you. Oh, I should not be saying such things, I apologize. You may leave.”
Huh?
It was as if the embodiment of ‘dumbfoundedness’ clogged its way into Wriothesley’s throat. ‘Bafflement’ froze his legs. This vampire essentially abducted him and was now… letting him go? Was this some kind of mind game? It was not uncommon for supernatural beings to enjoy playing with their food. But as he assessed the figure in front of him with a roaming eye, looking at what was thought to be his demise…
The vampire’s bottom lip was gently pulled up into a sulk, his head tilted slightly downwards while his hands rested at his sides, opening and closing repeatedly like he wanted to hold him again—dare Wriothesley say he looked… cute? It was all too similar to how a person took a liking to a dog and wanted to bring it home, only to discover it already had an owner. Perhaps if he asked someone else, they would answer what was happening was that exact scenario.
Well, if his last words were about to be spoken, then so be it.
“My name’s Wriothesley. What’s yours?”
The vampire whipped his head up fast, eyes sparkling. “Neuvillette. My name is Neuvillette.”
“Neuvillette,” the werewolf tasted the name on his tongue. Not bad. “Do you have any tea I can drink?” He would hang around for a bit. Now that the initial shock wore off, his inner wolf was no longer growling, rather… barking excitedly. He supposed he did find the vampire rather intriguing, being the first one who hadn’t tried to bite his ass on sight.
“Yes, of course, over in the kitchen.”
As Wriothesley followed behind Neuvillette, he couldn’t help but notice how slender the other’s waist was—why, it could use a hand to grasp tightly. Oh, and how his hair looked like it could be gathered in one fist, and how black pants hugged at the vampire’s long legs and accentuated the generous curve of his ass… the werewolf ran his tongue along his lip, feeling an urge to dig his teeth into it.
Well, since Wriothesley wanted to bite his ass, it would only be fair to allow the vampire to nibble some blood out of him.
“Here. Help yourself to whatever you please,” Neuvillette gestured to the kettle and tea on the shelves.
“Thank you.” Filling the kettle with water, Wriothesley started, “Sooo… you’ve really never seen a werewolf up close?”
“I have not killed any of your kind if that is what you are worried about. I will not harm you.”
There was an amused tug of the corner of Wriothesley’s lips. “Ah, that’s not what I meant by my question.”
“Oh… ahem, then yes. In all my two thousand and twenty-four years of living, I have respected the boundaries of our species and stayed out of the way.” Wriothesley nearly dropped the kettle as he moved to plug it in. Over two thousand? It made his own respectable four hundred eleven years seem like nothing. “That is why I was excited when you approached me.”
Wriothesley gave a hum in response as he then brought a wet cloth to his nose to draw out that damned citrus scent. Technically he wasn’t wrong—if you thought of bumping into someone as approaching.
Discarding the cloth—the vampire’s scent was coming through, strong of an ocean breeze—he reached to the shelves and brought down one of the teas.
In bold, red letters read ‘The BlooTEAist There Is!’.
A light snort escaped. “What, don’t tell me there’s werewolf tea with ‘The MeaTEAist There Is’ written on it?” He turned to face Neuvillette, pointing to the packet.
The vampire paused oddly long. “I apologize, I do not know if this brand has werewolf tea. I will find out if they do.”
A bubble of laughter. “No need to do that. I was joking. It’s a pun.” A fond puff of air left Wriothesley’s nose as he watched the gears in Neuvillette’s head turn. A small furrow of his eyebrows, mouth slightly open. “BlooTEAist. Bloodiest. MeaTEAist. Meatiest.”
Realization dawned on Neuvillette, he nodded slowly, eyes widening. “I understand now. A ‘pun’, yes. That is very humorous.”
It was because his new vampire companion was not very expressive, it made his bouts of expression all the more expressed vividly. Right now, Neuvillette was leaning towards him, bright and inviting as if to say please, do share more of these ‘puns’.
Too cute.
Wriothesley turned his back towards him. He felt all too aware of his heart beating fast in his chest. Instead, he focused on unplugging the kettle and pouring the water in a teacup. Really, he had only just met this vampire, a supposed-to-be enemy, yet one could say he was not a beast, only a docile dog happy about the attention from its owner, with how his—
The werewolf’s shoulders jumped at the sudden touch of fingers running through the fur of his tail. He whipped around, pivoting and meeting the frozen look of Neuvillette, a smidge of guilt written in the ‘o’ of his lips.
“I—I apologize. Your tail started to wag and I was mesmerized by its motion,” Neuvillette retracted his hands to his sides. “And I wanted to see if it was as soft as it looks.” Clasping his hands together in front of him, his long lashes fluttering gently as he licked his lips then mumbled, “It is indeed softer than I expected. You really are a beautiful creature. Of course, not that this is a valid excuse for touching you without your permission.”
Wriothesley’s ears twitched before standing straight and tall.
He didn’t think he could hold back any longer.
One foot stepped towards the vampire, like a paw crossing an uncharted territory where fresh new prey could be found.
“You can keep touching me.” The wolf slowly stalked forward, eyes pinpointed on violet ones that gazed back and on a plump bottom lip that quivered softly (how he could quell it if he bit into it). He licked his canines, feeling the muscles in his thighs getting ready to pounce.
They now stood so close to where there was almost like a heat that sizzled between them, to where Wriothesley could easily reach up to swipe a stray lash off the vampire’s regal high cheekbone, letting a small purr rumble in his chest as he saw how the other’s waist seemed even more slim from this angle.
Wriothesley didn’t know what made Neuvillette breathe in sharply: when he gently took the vampire’s hand—such long, long fingers—and brought it towards his tail which he had swung out in front of them, or the rasp in his low voice as he murmured, “You can touch me here,” he then brought it up to rest at the base of his furry ears, “or you can touch me here.” A contented noise rolled out from the wolf when he felt scritches just at where the hair met fur. “You can touch me wherever you’d like.”
Wriothesley’s eyes darkened with desire when he felt the vampire’s hand give a testing squeeze at his chest, his pointer finger rubbing over his nipple. Electrifying.
“Right there… and right here…” Neuvillette’s whisper was so soft, yet it called out to him like a howl to a pack as he traced his hand up, eventually his thumb roamed across the seam of Wriothesley’s lips, stopping by the corner to prod it into a parting, hunger simmering just beneath each brush of the pad, “... and like this, then…”
A pitcher of heated lilac was his last view before Wriothesley was promptly swallowed up, Neuvillette surging forward to entangle his mouth into his, erupting pleasured gasps from them both. Fingernails dug into the wolf’s trapezius, its fervency matched the way their tongues clashed like they had been deprived all this time.
The sounds of their hasty in-between breaths were cut by a needy squeak from the vampire when Wriothesley licked carefully at his fangs, then dug his teeth into that juicy lip. Shameful it was, how it stirred up something primal within him; the wolf inside him now howled that this was his mate and he needed to fuck him till he was knotted full.
A growl was caught in the back of Wriothesley’s throat as he threw his weight against the vampire to maneuver them to the living room, still connected were their tongues as they tumbled and eventually tripped onto a large couch.
“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette gasped for air, and oh how pretty could a vampire be? Beneath Wriothesley with his snow hair all fanned out, swollen red lips and need swirled in dilated pupils. “I-I want to feel you inside me.”
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?” Wriothesley went to grind his confined length down against the other’s until it was fully hard, knot inflated as well, then came a rut of his hips so wicked it sent both of them groaning, and soon he felt hands grabbing at his back. The werewolf pulled Neuvillette’s neckline of his shirt to the side to leave blooming reddened marks of mine on pale flesh that beckoned him so, the elicited heaved noises a mantra that chanted him to dig deeper and deeper, to claim him. “I might be too big for you to handle, sweetheart,” and punctuated his sentence by letting his large, aching length drive against the other.
“A-ah, I want it… oh… is that your knot I feel?” Neuvillette spoke the next part so quietly, pleading, “Please knot me. I want to take all of you.”
A painful throb from his cock and Wriothesley nearly bit the juncture of the vampire’s neck too hard, a cry ringing.
“Fuck, you’re riling me up. Already begging for my knot like that. Need it that badly, huh?” A whimper of agreement was his answer. “Well, I’ll just need to prepare you real good, so hold tight.”
If Wriothesley were a better man, he would have undressed him slowly, revering in the unveiling of skin inch by inch, an accompaniment of sweet kisses would have been his prayers; alas, he was more wolf than man. Oh, how his claws harshly ripped fabric to where it echoed in the room. His limbs were a frantic array, bumping into the table beside as he hurried to please his instinct that snarled for the barrier of clothes to be rid of, a need to have skin-to-skin contact with his mate. And Neuvillette’s reaction was not helpful in the slightest, the vampire was fucking turned on by his strength and feral display, helping to divest their clothes just as fast by chucking the pieces aside and keening “yes, yes,” so sweetly whenever the tips of his claws raked the surface of the vampire’s flesh.
Wriothelsey sat back in between Neuvillette’s legs as he took deep breaths in. His wolf was all keyed up but he did not wish to rush this, most especially did not wish to hurt the other either. Taking a long inhale, he looked at the scene before him: Beautiful contours of muscle sculpted a build a tad more slim than his own, the volume exchanged for length—yes, the long smooth shape of his biceps, slender bitable neck, his legs that begged for trails of kisses that could seemingly reach to no dead end, an abdomen that stretched far and fuck , Wriothesley was already mentally visualizing where his cock would reach deep.
The long, slightly curved length also did not go amiss; head shiny with pre-cum beading at the tip, the color a bright red. Although not as bright as the red streaks against milky white skin from his claws when he tore off his clothes—thankfully, there was no blood drawn, but Wriothesley still felt guilty for making the vampire look like a scene of a crime.
“You’re big.”
The blunt remark from Neuvillette woke Wriothesley from his thoughts.
“Your knot, your cock, your body… it is all big.” The werewolf he was a kind of bulk that spoke of sharpness, of a lot of history with how his scars smattered ragged lines, and of course his new scratches added onto his rough appearance. The vampire knew it was just perspective how he was lying down, but the wolf really did loom over him, which tingled something inside him.
Wriothesley blinked a few times, while he tried his best to decipher Neuvillette’s rather indiscernible expression.
“Um… thanks?”
“Oh! Yes, I meant that as a compliment. I like big,” the vampire purred, one hand reaching out to squeeze his trunk of a thigh.
A pleased rumble was emitted as his thigh was kneaded. His knot pulsed with interest, he didn’t think he had ever seen it so big before. He then apologized, “Sorry for ruining your clothes and for all of those marks. I got a bit too wild.”
Neuvillette hummed. “I do not mind. It was fascinating seeing you like that. I enjoy it immensely.”
A sensation of a predatory glee prickled and danced on his skin as he put his hands on Neuvillette’s sides massaging him in a way that was more like sizing him up. Was he egging him on purposely? It sure felt like it.
“You don’t mind, hm?” He leant down to give a nip at the vampire’s meaty inner thigh, reaping a little hitch of breath from him. “So you won’t mind if I do…”
That was the only warning he’d give him. In a mere couple of seconds, a loud yelp cracked like lightning in the air when Wriothesley hoisted him up and flipped him over, to be on his hands and knees, what now served on his plate was white hair strewn all over framing the delicate dessert of two pale, thick globes of flesh.
“...that?”
“I—ah!” Wriothesley didn’t want him to sneak another word in, so he did what he had been wanting to do for some time now: leave a hefty bite on that smooth cheek.
“Wriothesley—” Oh, his name sounded all too delicious from those lips. It was like his appetite could never be satisfied and he needed more .
A reprieve was but an illusion, for Wriothesley went to attack harder, though this time in a different place, spreading the mounds and giving a flat, long lick right over his hole.
“W-Wriothelsey, that feels—oh.”
That was when Wriothesley started to set a pace of switching between laving at his rim and teasing gently at the entrance with the very tip of his tongue, making sure to let his saliva coat and pool into it. His hands squeezed firmly at his ass, partly to use as leverage but mostly to feel it in all of its soft glory. Enchanted he was with how the vampire’s hips canted back.
“I—I’m ready.”
An eyebrow raised. “I barely did anything. You’re going to need a lot more than that to take me all.” Hearing a whine, Wriothesley smiled, “You’ll get what you want soon, sweetheart. Just be a little more patient. Do you have any lube of sorts?”
“The drawer beside the couch here,” Neuvillette’s voice was strained when the werewolf gave another lick. “There should be oil in the bottom one.”
Wriothesley reached over to grab a small bottle, drizzling the viscous fragrant liquid on his fingers, slightly cool to touch. When deemed slick and ready, he went to press his pad at the entrance causing Neuvillette to inhale sharply. One, two, and—
“Ah—”
The side of Neuvillette’s face was pressed in a pillow as he bit into his bottom lip. His muscles were tensing and his fingers curled around the cushions of the couch when Wriothesley plunged his thick finger in, exploring his walls.
Groaning, the vampire’s hips pressed back eagerly. “Add another in.”
“So needy.”
One became two, and soon followed three. Neuvillette was scissored and stretched, whimpering each time his sweet spot was grazed, occasionally even deliberately attacked by those skillful digits which made it so a heat built up in the pit of his core only for it to recede when the fingers left it.
The wolf was in a pursuit, humming softly while addicted to the sight of his three thick fingers being swallowed whole around the taut red ring muscle, almost even looking like they were getting sucked in.
“Such a lewd body of yours. How are you already this much of a mess?” Wriothesley motioned his head towards Neuvillette who was grinding hard on his fingers, and incoherent jumbles of name were barely made out. He was panting slightly with saliva gathered in an open mouth which threatened to drool out.
“Your—mmhnn—fingers… they’re so big inside me.”
(Break him, roared the wolf. See what your mate looks like when you stuff him with your knot.)
“Sweet thing,” Wriothesley cooed gravelly at the other’s honest answer, that inner primal being in his body scratched inside, writhing to get out and be in his mate. He pulled his fingers out. “Come on, now. I’ll give you something even bigger.”
Giving his cock a few strokes while lathering it with oil, Wriothesley lined himself up, tip teasingly nudging at the shiny winking hole. He mentally took a photo of what was in front of him: Neuvillette’s hole, despite being stretched well, looked absolutely tiny compared to his large cock.
A beat of anticipation. “Let me know if it hurts, okay?”
He heard a soft “yes”, and that was all Wriothesley needed to pop his fat cockhead right past the rim.
“O-oh,” Neuvillette breathily let out. It was already so much .
“Doing good?”
“Yes. Very.”
“I’m going further now.”
Sliding into him more and… Wriothesley cursed, the heat enveloped him inch by inch. Slow and steady, he thought to himself.
But the vampire had other plans it seemed, for in a lightning fast motion Neuvillette rocked slightly forward, only to slam himself down on his cock, moans were ripped out of them simultaneously.
The werewolf nearly collapsed atop of Neuvillette. It was almost as if the wind was knocked out of him. So fuckng tight. The walls clamped around him viciously, as if he trapped him and would never let go. He was encased, no, squeezed with a warmth that made Wriothesley grip tighter on the other’s hip that was sure to bruise, that made sweat appear atop his brow, that had his jaw slack. This was heaven.
Neuvillette gasped for air, eyes rolling back a little, the sound of his ass slapping against the werewolf’s pelvis was ringing in his ear. The vampire felt like he was being split into two, and the girth of that member opened him so well it was as if his mind was speared along with it too, haziness clouded over his thoughts.
“So fucking hot seeing you tremble on my cock.” With one hand splayed along Neuvillette’s back, Wriothesley leaned down to whisper hotly against the pink-tipped ear of the vampire who hadn’t even realized he was trembling. Wriothesley then nipped at the earlobe, before letting up with a lick, causing the other to give another buck back of his hips, and there was something about the accompanying dirty sounding mewl that just caused the wolf to snap .
Seizing those wide hips roughly, fingertips digging hard in a manner that was sure to bruise, Wriothesley drew his hips all the way back, and with his muscles rippling, a deep animalistic noise sounded in the room as he punched back into him, then started a maddening pace of driving himself in and out, striking right at his prostate.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” The wolf’s voice was low. “For me to fuck you hard.”
“Wriothes-sley, Wriothes-sleyyy.” It was as if the wolf was on a hunt, and those drawn out cries were something to savor as the finest meat; he was in luck, for the vampire was a whole meal. A ravenous hunger consumed him, needing to hear more, so each thrust ended up being harder than the last, deeper than the last.
“You just want to be,” Neuvillette’s wails when he rammed his hips in made his knot thicken even more, and his groin area burned hotter and hotter, “my pretty cocksleeve. You just want to be a nice little hole to milk my knot.”
An agreeing shudder came from the vampire. It was like those words licked at his ear, and more sweat collected on his forehead and on his back.
Oh, how beautiful Neuvillette was yielding to him, doing his best to roll his hips back to meet him despite his knees starting to buckle, and being fucked into the couch so hard there were harsh creaking noises from the couch. How beautiful was that long line of the spine that bowed, flushed and—
A dangerous growl rumbled.
No, that would not do.
His mate was now stuffing his face into a pillow, muffling his beautiful cries.
“Don’t hide from me,” with a bark stuck in his throat, the wolf pulled out more harshly than he should have, tearing hisses out of them both, then he swiftly flipped Neuvillette onto his back, tilted his hips up high and plunged back into him in a way that could only be described as territorial.
Neuvillette screamed, hands scrambled to hold his thighs to his chest, calves dangling uselessly in the air. This angle was deeper, not only that but this time he felt acutely aware of that bulging knot that tapped at his entrance since he could see it. Heat was building in his stomach like an uncontrollable fire, and his veins surged with pleasure.
The wolf swallowed the noise by leaning down to shove his tongue down the vampire’s throat, the other reacting by doing his best to swipe back fervently like he was the last crumb on the plate.
(But a vampire could not feast on saliva…)
When Wriothesley would later reflect back on this moment, he would see how one could call him crazy; he pulled back a little and bit his own lip hard, letting his blood drip into the vampire’s mouth.
Neuvillette’s white pupils went wide, taking up his whole iris and he gave a sultry moan at what was the best thing he ever tasted, eagerly gulping it down. Not letting up in the slightest, Wriothesley pounded relentlessly, feeling himself about to burst any second. He gripped Neuvillette’s cock and started to stroke in time with his thrusts, causing the other to start sobbing with how stimulated he was by the touch and by the blood in his mouth.
“Knot me,” and the demand joined in with the dirty symphony of the squelching noises from the oil, the sounds of slapping and the flicking of that hand on his cock that curled his toes.
Any tethers of restraint holding the wolf broke completely. The heat was past its boiling point within him, and his thrusts began to stutter. A mixture between a roar and groan thundered as he gave one last thrust, possessively crowding over his mate’s body, knot bullying its way past that tight circle, just popping in. Neuvillette broke, and with his back arched, fingers now dug hard into the wolf’s back, his cum shot hard from just how full he was, painting streaks onto his stomach. It only heightened when Wriothelsey pulled the vampire to his neck, hinting at him to feed.
When he felt those two sharp fangs dig into him, Wriothesley’s orgasm tore through him, shaking his entire body as he breathed hard through those walls constricting his knot in a tight hug. Load after load pumped into the other, filling him to the brim, and he grinded his knot softly into the other, making sure none of it would leak out of his mate. A delighted, yet tired mew came from Neuvillette, relishing in the feeling of taking all of what his wolf had to offer him. And having the blood straight from the source tasted even better, a rich ambrosia and somehow distinctively Wriothesley and werewolf to it. Tempting it was to drink a glass, but he meant it when he said he did not wish to harm Wriothesley, and only drank a couple of sips.
Feels good, Wriothesley thought to himself, and he wasn’t sure if he was talking about the feeling of getting his blood sucked out of him, or how tenderly Neuvillette was petting his ears, how just being connected with the vampire felt like home.
◕ ◕ ◕
When Wriothesley woke up, he sluggishly blinked his surroundings into focus. He was in a bed. The blankets and pillows were soft and comfy, but not as much as the vampire who snuggled into his side, gazing right at him. It was like those gorgeous eyes were reaching out to him and embrace him.
“You are still here.” Neuvillette sounded as if he hadn’t slept at all.
“Of course I am,” Wriothesley already had his arm around Neuvillette, so it only felt natural to squeeze the other’s bicep while rubbing his thumb into soothing circles. He tried to recall last night’s events, and just the barest image of after having rounds and rounds of passionate mating, he remembered nearly passing out before he felt the vampire scoop him up in his arms and carry him upstairs.
“You did not leave me.”
“I did not leave you,”
He would almost call it strange; essentially, he had just met this vampire, but why did his heart ache at the thought of leaving him? Why was there a tumultuous storm that raged within at the prospect of never seeing him again? If the ground suddenly split between them right now and carried them to faraway ends of the planet, why was Wriothesley ready to climb, run, swim—do anything to get back to Neuvillette?
Mate, the wolf in him yipped.
And sure enough, that was all it took to Wriothesley to break the minute of silence that had passed.
“You had said you wanted to keep me,” Wriothesley thought about his current life where he was jumping from shack to shack, how there was nobody to return to. “Well. You can. Ah—I don’t need a leash or collar or anything.”
And Neuvillette just sparkled.
“Really? Oh, that is wonderful to hear, I—I really like you.” Neuvillette began to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.
A smile adorned the werewolf’s face. “I like you, too.”
“You see, I am a member of the Council of the Court of Fontaine, where we investigate and judge cases that involve supernatural beings. If you would like, you could join me—ah! There is an open position as the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide. It involves dealing with paranormal hunters.”
“Sounds interesting.” The answer was honest. He never really had a proper job, mostly just roamed around. Plus the idea of kicking hunter butt did sound appealing. “But isn’t the Court of Fontaine mostly vampire territory? I don’t know if I’d get accepted.”
“Oh.” The vampire’s eyebrows did a series of dips and furrows before it settled into high arches. “I’ll… I’ll fight for your title. I’ll even get you the status of ‘Duke’. I will convince my fellow members that you are a good werewolf. In fact, just yesterday, you had saved that melusine—Sigewinne, her name is—from the hunters. She can testify. That should be sufficient proof.”
Wriothesley was about to question how he knew about that, when words suddenly flashed back: “Your scent, it—you really are a werewolf.”
Of course. “You smelled that melusine and the hunters on me and deduced what had happened.”
“Indeed,” and nodded into him. “We can start a whole new life together, you and I.”
Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart, and Wriothesley wondered if the vampire could feel his heart beating fast, how that in itself was an answer.
The werewolf kissed the top of Neuvillette’s hand then switched his fingers to tenderly card through silken locks. The vampire’s eyes were beginning to flutter, and Wriothesley could feel his do the same too; a drowsiness was settling.
“Yeah. We will, sweetheart,” murmuring a promise to his vampire. His mate.
That didn’t sound bad at all, did it? Being a vampire’s werewolf, was his last thought before sleep eventually fell upon them both, cuddled into each other’s arms.