34. Vasile
Chapter thirty-four
Vasile
I’m pacing when Deacon steps out of the shadows. When I come to a sudden halt, so does he, and his smile is slightly nervous at the edges.
“I’m sorry,” he says all at once, and the words startle me enough that the ones I’ve been trying to put together in my head scatter into the wind. “I thought I’d be able to get away and see you sooner, but—”
I shake my head, and he stops talking, instead eyeing me hungrily. If he thinks what I’m wearing—the cape that covers me from neck to the ground—is strange, he doesn’t mention it.
“ I’m sorry,” I say. “Though there’s nothing to be done about it. We both had things to do.”
Deacon nods. He looks a little relieved as he moves closer. I take a step back when he’s three paces away and he stops immediately.
Uncertainty pulses down our bond, but it’s so heavily outweighed by relief, affection, love…
I smile, letting those feelings warm me up from the inside out. “There’s still much to be done,” I say. “It’s been decades; it’s not like I can untangle myself from all that in one week. But the bulk of it is decided, so I thought tonight might be the best opportunity.”
“Best opportunity?” Deacon frowns, tilting his head in confusion. “Vas, I don’t understand…”
All week, I’ve been pulling back from the bond, and I suspect Deacon has been, too. It’s been trying to drag me back towards him, but there’ve been ceremonies to prepare, people to take care of. I wanted to be sure I had everything in place before coming here.
I want to be sure that this time I’m doing everything for the right reasons.
“I’m stepping down as crai.”
“What?” Deacon falters, then takes a step closer. When I don’t move, he approaches and squeezes my arms through the cape. “Vasile, I don’t—You don’t have to do this. I could—”
I laugh, and he goes still. In my ears, his heart beats too fast, and I feel the faint traces of his despair.
“I didn’t do it for you,” I say, making sure to meet his eyes. I need him to know the truth of it. “I mean, the timing is… But I did it for me, and I did it for us . And for them, too. Njáll will be a far better crai than I’ve been the past few decades. He’s ready for it. The rest of the chieftains will support him. Elle, too. She’s taking over two districts, and I know she’ll look after them well.”
“I thought you… I thought you wanted that position. I don’t want you to sacrifice for us.”
I hum, pressing my lips together. “It’s not a sacrifice, Deacon. It’s just a change. I don’t know if I ever wanted it, or if it was just something used to reel me in. And I needed—After you left, I needed something to do, something that would keep me focused in a healthy way.”
Deacon slides one hand up and cups the side of my face. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” I turn my head and kiss the centre of his palm. “I love you, Deacon. I want to be with you.”
“I want you, too. I just don’t want you to find yourself… lost.”
I smile at him, and it takes him a second, but he returns it. “How could I ever be lost with you to lead the way, lupul meu?”
He flushes. It’s so rare to see him blush, and my eyes widen at the sight of blood in his cheeks. “So what now?”
“Now…” My next smile flashes a hint of fang. “I have it on good authority that there are wolf packs willing to accept vampires. If you’ll have me…?”
“Of course, Vas.”
He leans in to kiss me, but I dance back, laughing delightedly at the disgruntled look on his face. His confusion floods me, his desire, and I grin again before I reach up and slide the cape from my shoulders.
I’m entirely naked beneath, a sight Deacon drinks in with greedy eyes.
“Vasile,” he says, voice rough.
“We never had a chance to do it before,” I say and push my hair back before I tilt my head, exposing my throat. “I-I know you wanted to do this under a full moon. And if you think it’s too soon, I get it. I’ll happily wait. But I want you , Deacon. Whatever it takes, for as long as I get to have you.”
He sways on the spot, and then he’s in my space and his lips are on mine, arms like iron bands around my middle. I gasp against his mouth and grip his shoulders, admiring the strength beneath my fingers.
“I’ll mate you, my vampire,” he says against my mouth. I pull back to look him in the face and his eyes are glowing silver, his shift imminent. “I’ll take you here in the dirt. Bite you and make you mine.”
I lean in and take his lower lip between my teeth, biting down hard. He hisses through his teeth but doesn’t pull away. “And if I bite you? Now that we both know I can.”
“I’ll be yours, too.”
“You already are.”
We kiss again, vicious and biting, and after, it takes Deacon a conscious effort to step back. His arousal thuds through both of us and I know if I look down, I’ll see the evidence of it pressing against the front of his trousers.
“Run, Vas.”
I run.
I put on a burst of speed at first—because I’m not going to make this easy for him—but after a minute or so, I slow down. This being London, we only have so much space to run around in.
Besides.
I want him to catch me.
My blood thrums with anticipation. I spoke to Njáll at sundown, have left him in charge for the night. It’ll likely be months before I can truly step down—though I’ll always be available, should he need any advice—but he’s not alone. The chieftains we have left are all competent and, after everything that’s happened, even more willing to step up and help out.
They’re pleased with his appointment. I know that. It should have always been him.
A twig cracks. It’s a deliberate sound in the otherwise quiet night, and a laugh bursts from my throat before I run off into the darkness. The heavy sound of Deacon’s paws sounds through the underbrush, and oh, he’s fast , but not fast enough.
I pivot on my heel and head back towards him, stroking my hand through the fur on his side as I run past. Deacon snaps at the empty space I leave behind, and I laugh again.
Affection floods the bond, mingled with desire and a hint of frustration that he hasn’t already caught me. I push back my own giddy happiness and when he pauses to let out a howl, all the hairs on my arms stand on end.
I stop when another wolf answers. Then another. I don’t know what the howls mean—not exactly—but Deacon’s pulse of elation tells me. They’re happy for him. For us.
Turning again, I weave through the trees. Branches catch my skin, leaving faint scratches that heal in a heartbeat. I pause in the centre of the woods and turn in a circle, looking up at the dark sky.
Deacon is near. Once the bond is cemented, I’ll know for sure where he is at all times, but even now I know he’s close. I could run again. The urge to do so nips at my heels.
I could tackle him, instead. Turn the tables. But that’s the kind of thing I would have done one hundred years ago, when I wanted to be in charge most of the time. When I felt I had to be.
No, this is his turn. His time. It’s enough that I’ll get to bite him back, that, presumably, he’ll wear a mark just like I will. We’ll be connected forever, and everyone will know it, and we won’t ever, ever be parted.
A low growl has me turning, picking out silver eyes through the darkness. His coat is brown, but he’s still difficult to make out in the shadows—difficult for anyone who can’t see well in the dark, at least. As it is, I watch the way his fur ripples, the play of muscles as he stalks me.
“Oh, no. Looks like there’s nowhere to run,” I say dryly. “Whatever will I do?”
Deacon can’t laugh as a wolf, but he huffs, and I feel his amusement all the same. He moves slowly towards me, and I take a pace or two backwards.
I turn on my heel, ready to run again—but slower this time—and find he’s already ready for me. His paws land on my shoulders, driving me to the grass, and he shifts back as he goes, ending up pressed hot and hard against me.
Deacon ruts against me, his breath hot on the back of my neck. I groan, trying to arch back against him.
“ Deacon .”
I got myself ready for him earlier, knowing that even if we didn’t mate tonight, we’d likely still fuck, and he groans when he presses his cock between my cheeks.
“My mate,” he growls in my ear. “So slick. So open.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. He begins to press inside, and I groan this time, panting as he fills me. He’s as hot and hard and thick as I need him to be, stretching me even further open, hips pushing forward relentlessly.
“You’re perfect,” he hisses and nips my earlobe. “Like you were made for me.”
I snort a laugh and twist so I can see his face. “Or you were made for me ,” I reply, and he grins before our mouths meet.
Fuck, I want this. I want this hard, primal coupling, want to be used in the dirt. Deacon bottoms out and groans again, lips tracing the side of my face and down my throat.
“You’re mine, Vas. Gonna make you mine, forever.”
I gasp and arch against him. I want something else. Something more. At least this time.
Deacon can come and chase me in the woods whenever he likes after this, of course.
“Deacon,” I say, and he slows, nosing the side of my throat.
He sounds lust-drunk when he says, “Yes?”
“Let me turn over.” My own words are fragile. Desperate. “I want to see you.”