Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Sylvara panted and stared at a white blur while she tried to come down off an overwhelming orgasm that continued to throb through her entire body. And then she noticed Rolf staring down at her, two holes smoking through his upper chest, the roof of Danica’s treehouse above them.
“Oh shit.”
“Talk about fine.” He smiled and staggered, falling off the bed to the ground. Bloode didn’t pour from his body, his wounds cauterized by her lightning.
She blushed despite her anger at being seen in such a vulnerable state.
And by Rolf, no less. “I will slaughter Morpheus the next time I see him,” she muttered and hurried to Rolf’s side on shaky legs.
The pleasure continued to swim inside her, making her dizzy with euphoria.
How had they gotten far apart in this tiny place? “Are you going to live?”
“Maybe if I had a little blood to replace what I lost. The problem is I need help regrowing the tissue of my inner muscle and organs. You hit a piece of my heart.” He paused, his eyes clouding with a pink that didn’t belong. “Hubba hubba,” he said, his voice faint.
“Fuck.” She didn’t know what his death would do the spell linking them together. Nothing good, no doubt. She tried to ignore any guilt for having hurt him when Morpheus was to blame. “Here.” She shoved her hand in his mouth, alarmed when he didn’t bite down but instead mumbled something.
“Rolf?” She leaned closer. “Can you hear me?” The holes in his chest had closed up, but his pallor wasn’t good at all. No longer just pale. He looked gray, the way vampires did when near true-death.
He whispered, “Let me… head in your lap.”
“Sure. Sure.” She sat and rested his head in her lap. “Are you okay?”
“N-no. Dying…” He stilled.
“Rolf? Rolf?” She patted his cheek.
Weakly, he turned toward her thigh, where her femoral artery had a healthy supply of blood. She didn’t hesitate and used his sharp nails to slice her thigh through her trousers and forced his face against the wound.
Blood shot from her vein, and she felt him slowly licking, then drinking, while she ignored the throbbing pain.
He didn’t bite her or lose control, fortunately. Because she was smart enough to know she was no match for a hungry vampire on the verge of dying.
“Okay. I think you’re good now.”
Not great that his mouth was making her feel funny all over again. Especially with his head so close to her, just near her…
“Rolf.”
The bastard ripped her trousers and yanked them away. Then he fixed his mouth to her clit, no longer sucking her blood but licking her up while her wound closed on its own.
And damn if he wasn’t bringing her libido to life once more. This time, for real.
She wanted to push him away, not interested in the painful pleasure forced on her body. A terrible punishment she never would have conjured on her own.
But now, it didn’t feel like punishment. It felt like her own heaven, the climb toward climax rocking her into his mouth despite what she knew she should do. But moving away was beyond her.
“Yes, my warrior. More,” he growled, licked, and sucked before shoving a finger inside her.
She came so hard she felt like she’d reached the pinnacle of rapture.
He didn’t complain, licking her clean while she finally relaxed under him, her body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.
He leaned up, his eyes blood-red, and smiled down at her. Again, she saw another face, dark hair, regal features lit up in delight. A glance at his hand showed a light blue that also glowed on hers.
“You taste like sunshine,” he murmured.
She blushed. “I, ah, you…”
He chuckled and moved off her then pulled her to her feet. “Thanks for that. I don’t suppose you’d help me with this too?” He put her hand between then, under his trousers, around a thick shaft that pulsed in her hand.
“You didn’t…?” She had no idea why she’d suddenly turned shy, but Sylvara had lost total control of the situation. Prudence demanded she step away from him. But the crazy part of her wanted to ease his need, to soothe her vampire.
My vampire? Fuck no.
She tensed.
He groaned then eased her hand off him. “You mind if I take care of this?”
“Uh, sure. Whatever.”
The bastard had the nerve to lower his trousers and jack off right in front of her, staring into her eyes while he sought his pleasure.
It was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen.
“Not long. Can still taste you.” He licked his lips then came, shooting onto the floor. A lot.
She blinked, shocked that the vampire had so much seed. “Is that normal?”
“I don’t think so.” He sighed and put himself back to rights, wiping his hand on his belly. Then he whispered something, a spell maybe, because the mess on the ground and on his hands glowed briefly before disappearing.
He stared at the torn fabric of her crotch.
“Hey. What the hell just happened? I thought you were dying.”
“I was.” He focused, and her trousers repaired themselves. “A shame, that.”
“What happened here, Rolf? I had some kind of weird dream. Then it hurt.”
“Hurt?” His eyes narrowed. “I felt pain. You came so hard electricity shot out of your eyes.” His expression lightened in understanding. “So that’s it. You were gone.”
“I was right here. But I wasn’t, somehow.”
“Because Morpheus is a dick. He yanked you away. I know he was messing with my dream. I just can’t remember exactly what he did.” And that seemed to bother him.
It sure bothered her.
“But that distance triggered the spell tying us together. I felt pain. And you felt pleasure.” His smile widened, and his pearly-white fangs seemed to laugh at her.
“Shut up.”
“Oh boy. Talk about a whammy. I don’t know. Want to trade?”
“Pain for pleasure? Yeah. Because I don’t like how it makes me feel. I’m accustomed to pain. But that much ecstasy is all-consuming. It makes me weak,” she admitted, annoyed she’d told the truth.
Rolf sighed. “I guess you have a point. I’d rather be hurting and in my full faculties than lost to bliss. Except you fried me twice. Well, three times, really.” He chuckled.
“Rolf.”
“You did save me though. That zap through my chest blasted my heart. Might have died if I hadn’t had your blood. It’s powerful.” He frowned.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing at all.” His expression cleared then turned naughty. “And there is nothing at all wrong with how you taste. Like sweet cream. I’m hungry for more.” He glanced down at himself, and she couldn’t help noting another erection.
“I didn’t think vampires were so horny all the time,” she grumbled, wishing her cheeks didn’t feel so hot. Difficult to appear tough when one blushed.
His smile faltered for a tiny heartbeat. But she saw it.
“We’re not constantly aroused. I think it’s you.” He stared into her eyes. “You mask your power, don’t you?”
Reminded of the face he wore beneath this one, she cocked her head in challenge. “And you don’t?”
“Touché.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Sylvara, did we fuck?”
She stopped moving toward the door. “What?”
“I could swear I know the feel of you. The taste, definitely. But also, your warmth. Everywhere.”
“No.” She glared. “Is this what I have to look forward to now? An immature vampire who makes crude—”
“No, no.” He seemed puzzled, not sly. “I just… Forget it. Keep close and we’ll finish this quest and get back to normal.”
“Right. That’s what I want.”
The old Rolf returned in a blink. “Are you sure? Because I’m happy to make you happy, sweetheart. In any way you like.”
“And if that means mounting your head to my trophy wall at home?”
He gave her a genuine grin. She felt better for it.
“Then by all means. Let’s find the Bloode Stone so you can mount me.” He let that sink in.
She groaned.
He laughed. “Time to hit The Games.”
Except when they left Danica’s tree, they walked out into an alternate realm that wasn’t fae, wasn’t death or a hell realm. The area had been saturated in what felt suspiciously like divine magic.
“Is this Mormo’s doing?”
Rolf swore as they stepped into a familiar looking room.
A bedroom out of some medieval reenactment, complete with a burning fire in a cobbled fireplace.
Stone floors covered in animal hides. Banners on the wall screamed the might of the Light Fae, yet Sylvara would bet money they weren’t in fae lands anymore.
“Where are we?” She studied the room, looking for some way out, but the only window looked out over a moonlit pond surrounded by winged ponies. No door broke up the stone walls. A tall screen hid a privy and a washstand. “What the hell is this?”
Rolf swore in a language she didn’t recognize. Though she did catch his frustration clearly enough. “This has draugr influence written all over it.”
“Draugr? Are you sure? It feels more like a god’s presence here. And not Morpheus’s this time.”
He shook his head and planted his hands on his hips. An oddly human gesture of frustration. “No. I can taste this magic. It’s not good. We need to get to the Greek underworld for The Games.”
“So, let’s go. Zap us out of here.”
“I can’t,” he bit out and glared at her. “This is your department. Not mine.”
“It’s magic. That’s all you.”
“No. This is the Norns at work. That’s your people.”
“The Norns?” The Wyrd sisters, the Norse fates. Or, as Sylvara often called them, her aunts. “I am so confused.”
“Join the club.”