Seventeen
Avalon
She spent time unpacking her things until she could no longer ignore the burning in her throat. After changing into something more comfortable, she made her way to the kitchen. When she entered the room, a tall glass of red liquid was already waiting for her. Lysander stood at the counter with his back to her, chopping vegetables on a cutting board.
“Can I help?” she asked, lifting the glass to her lips. Each new one got a little bit easier to drink.
Lysander slowly turned to look at her, brows furrowed as if he didn’t quite believe her.
“I’ve always enjoyed cooking,” Ava continued.
“You won’t be able to eat it.”
“I enjoy painting as well. I can’t eat those, can I?”
Lysander’s lips twitched—the closest she’d gotten to a smile—but he nudged some potatoes aside and set the knife on the counter. She set her glass down and took the spot next to him. While she continued peeling the potatoes, he moved onto onions and garlic.
“I can feel the questions you want to ask me.”
She stole a glance before returning to her task. “You don’t have to answer them. ”
“You’re stating the obvious.”
That made her smile—she appreciated his honest nature. “Where did you grow up?”
“In what is now Eastern Europe.”
“And the clan you mentioned was your family?”
“Yes.”
“But not all blood?”
“Over the years, alliances were forged and blood families turned into clans.”
“And what made you come here?”
Lysander sighed, placing a pan on the stove and lighting the burner. “I decided I didn’t want to die by the hands of my own clan—or kill any of them myself. I refused to get involved in the politics of it all. I was neutral, which wasn’t appreciated. They turned on me when they discovered that I was taming my lycan.”
“What do you mean by tame him?”
“With creatures like me, we have our human side and our lycan. For most of my kind the lycan is stronger and takes control of our mind.”
“The wolf in a sheep’s skin?”
“Yes. Once that happens, we no longer look human. We don’t fully shift like a werewolf but our nails turn to claws and our teeth into canines. Our thoughts and actions are more feral and animalistic.”
“And you didn’t want that. So when you regained your human morals, your appearance changed too?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry they didn’t accept you as you are.”
Lysander drizzled oil into the pan, adding the onions once it was hot. As he talked, he put a pot of water on to boil. “During full moons, we can’t control our shift. I tried to find ways to control myself, but nothing worked. When they discovered what I’d been doing, they refused to leave me alone during a full moon—they forced me to shift with them.”
“They forced you to hurt people.”
“Yes. Which is why I asked Varos and Marcus to help me.”
“Even though they were your enemy.”
“My kind’s enemy, yes, but they’d never done anything to me.”
“So, you gave them freedom and they in turn helped you control yourself?”
“They wanted revenge. They wanted my clan to suffer for what they’d done to them. I hesitated but it only took a few full moons to turn my back on my family.”
She froze, and she tried to stop the picture forming in her mind—the one of them taking their revenge on the clan.
“By the time I agreed, my clan had become my captors. They’d forced me to kill humans, putting them in the same room as me during a shift because they knew I couldn’t control him. I couldn’t watch myself kill more innocent people, so I freed the vampires. I fed them, giving them their strength back before I turned my back on my clan.”
He took the peeled and cut potatoes and let them boil in the water before he added meat to the pan. She laid her hand on his arm, wanting to comfort him somehow.
“Of course, my betrayal was discovered, so we spent quite some time in hiding. When we heard of the new world that had been discovered, we hoped our enemies wouldn’t follow us here. We slowly adapted to the human world so we could hide in plain sight.”
She was rendered speechless. To give some sense of comfort, she stroked his arm with her thumb. She stayed by him as he cooked, unwilling to leave his side for a second. The mouth-watering smells were nothing but a tease. Then, Lysander surprised her by grabbing a bag of donor blood from the fridge and adding it to a steaming water bath.
As if it were his everyday routine, he returned to his food and plated it. By the time he filled himself a glass of wine, a timer went off and he retrieved the blood from the water, poured it into her glass, and offered it to her.
“Thank you.” She followed him to the living room but hesitated, worried he’d be disgusted by her drinking while he was eating.
“I have lived with two blood suckers for hundreds of years—well before donors were even thought of. Sit.”
“Why do you still work if money’s no object?” She lowered herself to the seat opposite to him and sipped on her blood.
“It keeps my mind busy and assures me that we can survive comfortably if we ever do need to return to hiding.”
“And how are you not being detected? I mean doesn’t anyone get suspicious when you don’t grow grey hair and become wrinkly?”
“We move and start somewhere new.”
“But is Lysander your real name?”
“It is. Though usually we use an alias; this time we kept them.”
“I like Lysander.”
He set his plate aside, fixing his gaze on her as she finished her ‘meal’. “Come here.”
“What?”
A mischievous grin curled his lips, and she couldn’t help but stare. He lifted a finger to his neck, slicing his skin just like before. “Come here,” he repeated.
Her fangs extended as she eyed the drop of blood forming on his skin. The scent of him crept up her nose and made her body move of its own accord.
“Good, just like that. Nice and slow.”
The praise made her skin tickle—in a good way—as she closed the distance between them. Once she was within arms’ reach, he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap. Her head snapped forward, fangs sinking into his skin .
“You did so well, Ava,” he groaned, rolling his head back and exposing more delicious skin for her to taste. “You controlled yourself so well.”
She fought the urge to suck, trying to let the blood flow naturally into her mouth. She desperately wanted to taste him but didn’t want to hurt him. She shifted to get comfortable, gasping into the bite as she felt his hard bulge beneath her. She made an attempt to move but he held her in place, grinding her against his lap.
“You feel so good,” he hummed, rocking into her touch.
It did feel good and with her throat no longer burning and her mind feeling foggy with all the fresh blood, she couldn’t help but grind her hips against him. Lysander’s blood slowly drained from his body, filling her system and she needed more. She needed to get closer.
Her hand slipped beneath his shirt, palms smoothing over his stomach. His skin was warm beneath her palms and when he flinched under her touch, she remembered how much cooler her skin was.
She pulled back, releasing his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“Put them back,” he demanded, his eyes lazily on hers.
“I’m not too cold?”
“You’re perfect. Now put them back.”
So, she did. This time Lysander let out a low moan as their skin touched.
“You might be a different kind of trouble than I thought,” he admitted, high from her antidote. “I thought we would have to move and start over again. Maybe even somewhere remote to be able to tame you, but you are vastly different from what I thought you would be.”
“Why does that sound like a bad thing?”
“It’s not, but me wanting you is. I have no right to lay claim on you, yet here I am using your weakness against you to have you in my arms. ”
Before the guilt could set in, Marcus fell next to them on the couch. “We can share.”
Then Varos sat down—more elegantly—to her other side. “Do you enjoy Lysander’s company?”
She did, but admitting that felt wrong.
“I’m not asking you to make you feel bad for it. I genuinely want to know the answer. Do you enjoy Lysander like this?”
Fearfully, she nodded.
“If you’re happy, we’re happy.”
“Marcus is right.”
She pondered their words, drawing lazy shapes over Lysander’s stomach and enjoying the way he wiggled beneath her. She’d already been with them and enjoyed it, so why was she hesitating? Maybe it was because he’d never shown interest in her. She hadn’t been bothered about it before but now, she felt a little blindsided.
“Why were you always distant to me?” she finally asked.
Lysander sighed, but Marcus stole his answer. “Because he’s a dick.”
“Marcus, hush,” Varos scolded. “Let him explain.”
Marcus rolled his eyes but stayed silent.
“I didn’t want either of us to get hurt. I knew if I let you in and we became close, our secrets would be spilled, or you’d be hurt by my rejection once you’d come too close to me to hide what I am.”
“Thanks, you make us sound like assholes,” Marcus grumbled.
She kept her eyes on Lysander, but directed her next question to the other two. “Would you have told me about yourself? If you hadn’t found me almost dead?”
There was a heavy silence before Varos answered. “No.”
She’d suspected as much, but hearing it out loud hurt. She’d enjoyed their company and couldn’t help but feel like they’d wanted more from her. She’d allowed herself to fall for them, one stolen kiss at a time. Hearing that they’d never intended to keep her felt awful.
“You are upset,” Varos stated, though there wasn’t a hint of the judgement she experienced with Troy. “You are allowed to be.”
“I was falling for you, and you would’ve left me.”
Varos sighed, trailing his hand over her thigh. “We never intended to hurt you. We wanted to see how you were doing and once we laid eyes on you, you had us under your spell.”
“It wasn’t your fault. It was our responsibility to set clear boundaries,” Marcus added. “It was our weakness. We wouldn’t have simply left you, but made sure you were taken care of before we ended things.”
“Like money would have changed anything,” she muttered.
“You would’ve still been hurt, but it may have made your life a little easier.”
She turned her head, looking at Marcus—and she couldn’t be upset with him anymore. She was with them. Though she was still put off by the creature she’d been turned into, she had to admit it felt good to be with them. They cared for her, they’d saved her life a second time. Maybe it wasn’t what she’d planned for herself, but she would have died without them—both times.
“It’s fine. I’m here with you now.”
“And we’ll be with you until you are sick and tired of us,” Marcus promised.
They fell silent, and Lysander gripped her waist while his head tipped back, eyes closed. Varos was still caressing her thigh while Marcus went to the kitchen and warmed more blood.
Just as he was about to sit down again, a car approached. She stiffened and looked at Varos—whose eyes sparkled.
Lysander’s eyes shot open, his high having gone out the window. “What did you do, Varos? ”
“I ordered something.”
“You thought it was a good idea to have a human come within feet of her?” he growled.
Varos paid him no mind. Instead, he gripped her chin and directed her mouth to Lysander’s neck. “How about you silence Lysander while I make this as quick as possible?”
She paused, searching for Lysander’s permission. He rolled his head to the side again, tickling his fingers up her spine until they wrapped around her neck and guided her down. Her fangs found his pulse and sunk in, his sweet nectar filling her mouth.
He shifted beneath her, his other arm closing around her waist as he rose to his feet. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on him and him alone. She listened to the beat of his heart in his chest and the sound of air filling his lungs. She used his body’s sounds like a white noise, losing herself in the moment.
Then a door opened, and she was laid down on a soft mattress. Lysander laid over her, and she arched into him to feel that rigid bulge once more.
“Will you let me be yours?” he groaned, voice thick with desire.
Unwilling to stop drinking, she answered by unbuttoning his jeans.
Lysander shifted slightly and helped her push them down, careful not to wrench out of her fang’s grip. Once he was freed, her eager fingers wrapped around his erection. He was long and thick, with a curve she was curious to explore.
Now it was her turn to undress. Lysander carefully reached between them and tugged her leggings down, tossing them aside. His blood made her head spin, the warmth of it soothing her sore throat like nothing else. Once she was bare, his fingers danced over her knees and up her thighs, halting before going where she was burning for his touch.
“I will stop any time you want. If you only want to feed, you can. If it hurts—if I’m hurting you— you tell me, and I’ll stop. ”
She hummed her agreement and pushed her hips towards him.
Lysander took another breath, pausing once more before his hand dipped between her thighs. He easily found her clit, circling lightly, then adding more pressure. She tightened her grip, swiping her thumb through his precum dripping from his slit before lowering her hand down. Lysander groaned, damn near rattling the walls, but only his blood and touch were important to her.
He swiftly moved on from her clit, gliding his hand farther down and slipping a single finger into her entrance. Just like Marcus and Varos, he was careful, gently working her open with one finger while his palm pressed down on her clit.
“You feel good. So damn good, Ava.”
Bucking into his touch, she answered with a moan.
She rewarded him with a twist of her wrist over his cockhead, repeating the movement until Lysander was an incoherent mess. He thrusted into her fist, his blood pressure skyrocketing and blood filling her mouth at a rate she could hardly keep up with. He gave her a second finger, quickly adding a third when she didn’t protest.
“I need you, sweet little Ava,” he whimpered, almost sounding like he was begging.
She couldn’t resist, spread her legs, and placed his tip at her entrance.
“Fuck,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, rocking his hips forward.
Lysander was big, but nothing the sweet tang of his blood couldn’t help with. He shifted again, cradling her head in his hands.
“Touch yourself for me,” he demanded. “Show me what you like.”
She was no stranger to pleasuring herself—she’d even bought a toy to try. Now she wished she had it with her. She leaned into the high, the combination of that and her fingers tapping against her clit hurling her towards her climax.
“So tight,” Lysander panted. “So good . If I’m going too fast, tell me.”
Quite the opposite: he wasn’t going fast enough. She rolled her hips, plunging him deeper inside her. Her fingers moved, faster and faster until Lysander bottomed out. He didn’t give her much time to adjust, immediately pulling back and snapping his hips forward. Her hand against her clit made it easier to take his size. With Varos and Marcus, it had been different. She’d been high from the feeding, barely noticing when Marcus replaced his fingers with his cock.
With Lysander, it all went faster. It wasn’t bad , just different. One thing was certain, though: she felt safe. She knew that if she said the word, they would stop.
She matched Lysander thrust for thrust and rushed herself to her climax with her fingers and her fangs deep in his flesh. That slight curve to his cock was just enough to hit the right spot every time.
“Fuck, you’re going to make me come,” he groaned, his struggle evident.
She quivered beneath him, trembling with the first waves of her own orgasm.
“Shit, you’re coming.” His pace fell uneven, his climax imminent. “You’re doing so well. Make yourself come for me.”
Her jaw clenched, sealing her teeth into his neck as those sparks turned into fireworks. He fell with her, his cock swelling and pulsing, a hot rush of cum spilling inside her.
“So beautiful,” he praised, breathless.
She released him, sealing the bites with soft licks from her tongue. “I’m sorry.”
“Do—don’t apologise,” he said, voice weak.
“Lysander, are you okay?”
He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. He was pale, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.
“You’re okay, right?”
His lips twitched into a grin, but he didn’t open his eyes. “I’m in fucking heaven.”
“Please don’t pass out.”
“Don’t worry, little bloodsucker, just a few hours of sleep and I’ll be fine.”
“Marcus? Varos!” she called, not believing a word out of his mouth.
They appeared next to her and only then did she realise she was still impaled on him, cum trickling down and pooling under her thighs.
“He’s fine,” Varos assured her.
“His body just needs time to regenerate the blood you drank. As I said, he’s a big guy, just needs a little time to heal.”
Her eyes flickered between the two men. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Varos reached out, brushing her cheekbone. “You didn’t hurt him.”
She looked back down at Lysander, who was now asleep. “I didn’t know I was drinking that much.”
“You’ll see,” Marcus said. “He’ll be awake soon—and hopefully in a better mood.”
“How about you get cleaned up?” Varos suggested. “Then you can watch over him yourself as long as you like.”
She nodded, strategically pulling a blanket with her as she climbed off Lysander and covered him.
Varos sat down in Lysander’s reading chair. “I’ll watch over him until you come back, okay?”
“Thank you.”
She collected her leggings and underwear before disappearing into her room, and giving herself a quick wash in the sink. A few moments later she returned. Marcus was nowhere to be seen but Varos was still in the chair.
When his eyes fell on her, he stood and pulled her to his chest, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Call for us if you need us.”
“Okay.”
Though it felt intrusive, she went into Lysander’s bathroom once Varos was gone. She dampened a cloth, cleaning Lysander before dressing him in a pair of shorts draped over the edge of the bed. She didn’t want him to wake up feeling dirty or naked. Surprisingly, she was able to manipulate him easily, as if he weighed no more than a child. She had to remind herself of Varos’s words: her new self came with new abilities—strength being one of them.
Once he was taken care of, she slipped out of his room to grab her favourite book, then returned to the bedroom. She climbed into bed next to him and placed the book in her lap. Lysander rested and she read, gently combing her fingers through his hair while she waited for him to recover.