Chapter 10 #2
Arran’s voice fills with melancholy as he continues, “I was the laird of my clan, a position I treasured. I had a castle, land, people to care for and govern. Then, late one night, a visitor arrived at my castle, soaked to the bone and in need of help. Some of my guards mistrusted her on sight, but I insisted we welcome her in. It was a decision I regretted for a long time.”
Dread fills my veins and goose bumps trail down my arms. I didn’t think that this story was going to be sad.
Besides feeling a little bit bored this past week, I’ve not experienced any negative emotions associated with this quaint island and its kind creatures.
It somehow didn’t occur to me that this town wasn’t founded with the love and happiness it possesses now.
“The stranger was beautiful and I welcomed her into my bed. She was also hungry. And a vampire,” Arran says, meeting my eyes for the first time.
I suck in a breath, my hand clutching at my throat as the back of my knees hit the couch and I collapse onto it.
Arran leans the broom against the wall and gives me a sad smile, like he knows I didn’t expect this type of story.
Slowly, he nears the couch and sits down next to me. “I’ll spare you the uncomfortable details, but once I was turned, I couldn’t lead my people anymore. How could I when they needed me to help them in their daily lives while the sun was my biggest enemy?”
Arran lifts his arm toward me and I note the old burn scar covering a significant portion of his forearm.
Unable to resist, I reach out and trace the rough edges with the gentlest touch I’ve ever mustered. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I can’t even imagine how difficult it must’ve been for you to have your whole world turned upside down.”
Arran’s mouth twists into a grimace. “It was a very long time ago. After I left my clan, I traveled south in search of somewhere safe to make my home, but like most nonhuman creatures, I wasn’t welcome anywhere.
I only stayed long enough in one place to rest and feed, waiting for the next sunset before I set off again. ”
My heart aches for Arran, at having to leave every familiar thing behind and start over with nothing and no one by his side. It must’ve been awful.
“One night,” Arran says as he leans back on the couch, his gaze taking on a faraway look as the memory plays behind his eyes.
“I was feeling particularly hopeless and stole a rowboat. I didn’t know where I was going.
Perhaps I would’ve waited for the sun to rise and finally claim me while I was out in the middle of the ocean, but then everything changed when this island came into view.
Underneath the moonlight, it called to me like a dark beacon, guiding me to its safe shores. ”
For the first time, Arran’s soft smile holds hope, like there’s a happy ending waiting somewhere on the other end of his story.
Taking Arran’s hand into my lap, I lace our fingers, trying to give him any kind of support he might need to finish his difficult tale. “Was it safe for you here right from the start?”
“Aye. Starry Hill has always been safe. That first night, when I sat on the tallest hill looking out over the dark ocean, was the first time since I left that I truly felt at peace. For a long time, the stars were my only company and I preferred it that way.”
For the life of me I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be utterly alone.
No one to talk to, no one to enjoy a meal with, no reason to laugh or…
live. Arran must be made of much stronger stuff than I’ve given him credit for, because coming out on the other side of that experience with so much compassion to still welcome creatures into his safe haven, it blows my mind.
My voice drops to somewhere just above a whisper. “When did other creatures join you?” I hope it wasn’t too long until he had company.
Arran grazes the back of my hand with his thumb like he can sense my need for a happy turn to the story sooner rather than later.
“It wasn’t too long until someone else rowed ashore.
A werewolf. He was hurt and needed somewhere to convalesce.
It was an honor to be trusted with his care and I vowed to myself that the island would welcome any such creatures in need.
I never want anyone else to feel as unsafe or unwanted as I did. ”
I don’t know when I started crying, but a warm tear escapes from my eyes and trickles down my cheek, but I quietly wipe it away before Arran can see. “Was he here for a long time?”
Tilting his head from one side to the other, Arran thinks before he answers.
“In the grand scheme of things, not too long. He did teach me many practical skills, which I still use to this day. Together we built Starry Hill’s first two homes—The Flowering Teapot and The Lonely Rake, though they weren’t known by those names then. ”
“That’s so cool,” I say, squeezing his fingers between mine, enjoying this bright portion of the story.
“Eventually, the isolation of the island became too much for him,” Arran explains with a bittersweet tilt to his mouth. “Werewolves have a strong mating urge, which requires them to find a willing partner—something that was sorely lacking on our island of two inhabitants back then.”
I wince. “Oh, I can see that becoming a potential problem.”
“Aye,” Arran says with a soft chuckle that has my insides warming.
“When he left, he took word of Starry Hill back to the mainland and a while later, another creature in need of refuge arrived. And so it started—druids, orcs, other vampires and werewolves, sometimes even a human accompanying them. Some creatures came for only a short period, while others chose to stay here until their lives ended. Together, through the hands of many, we slowly built the town over the past almost four hundred years into what it is today.”
I turn in my seat and tuck my leg under me to face him more directly. “Not to derail from the amazing story this is, and sorry if this is a rude question to ask, but how did you survive without blood?”
Arran scans my face like he’s looking for a reason behind the question, but I’m only asking out of pure curiosity.
Okay, maybe I’m also fishing for information for the future, just in case he wants to drink from me.
Those fangs do look rather interesting and I don’t mind a little bite with my pleasure.
“There were sailors from time to time that found their way onto the island. But also, vampires don’t always need to feed very often.
It all depends on exertion levels. Certain more strenuous activities,” Arran emphasizes, his eyes heating as they settle on my neck, “require more blood, much like humans expending energy. It took me a couple of decades before I figured that out.”
As if my body is attuned to what Arran means, my heart speeds up, the pulse in my neck pounding in answer to the unasked question. I stare at the fangs resting on his bottom lip a little too long before I register what he said.
“Decades? That’s awfully long.”
“Not when you’re as old as I am.”
“How old are you exactly?”
Arran shifts in his seat and stretches his arm out on the back of the couch, his hand settling casually on my shoulder like it’s the most natural thing. “I stopped tracking birthdays a long time ago and count centuries only. But I was thirty-two on the day I was turned. ”
I grin. “So we’re technically the same age then. Nice to know.”
Arran tips his chin up. “I’m over four hundred now, I think.”
“Okay, grandpa. You win,” I say, poking his very firm chest.
Arran’s fingers wrap around my hand and he pulls me forward, his other arm guiding me until I’m straddling his lap. “Oh, darling. That’s a word you’re never going to call me again.”
“Or what?” I ask, grinding down lightly on him.
“There will be consequences,” Arran warns, his big hands palming my ass and holding me in place.
Oh fuck, I like the sound of consequences a little bit too much. I want to push every single one of Arran’s buttons and see how he’ll respond. I want to play and explore and find out what happens when I get into trouble.
I wrap my hands around his shirt laces and pull them toward me. “How do you feel about ‘daddy’?”
Arran shakes his head, a reprimand lying in its wake, but underneath me, he’s growing deliciously hard. “Try again.”
A charged silence builds between us. Time itself suspends as we breathe each other in, waiting for the other to move, to strike the match that’ll set the fire burning inside us free.
It would be so easy to lean forward and press my lips to Arran’s, to guide his hand inside my pants, to—
“No. We can’t fuck in this cottage. If Bodin gets home and it smells like another male in here he might lose it with those new-dad protective instincts.”
Arran loosens his hold on me. “Aye. I apologize.”
“Please don’t. This was very much the distraction I craved. Ten points to you.” I scoot sideways and slide back onto the couch. “Like we said before, we can continue everything later. For now, though, let’s keep it family friendly and focus on getting things ready for the Terral family.”
Standing up, I quirk my head at Arran. “Do you still know how to cook?”
“I don’t think so.”
“No worries. I’ll find something for you to do.” I hold my hand out toward him and Arran takes it easily, letting me lead him to the kitchen.
Why does this feel so easy? Why is my heart beating so fast? Why did Arran have to have such an incredibly meaningful backstory? And most importantly, why do I want to know more about him?