Wulf #2
Still, her frantic words are an arrow to my eager, racing heart. The pain is immediate as I wonder suddenly if, even now, this bewitching woman fears me to some degree.
But Verena huffs and begins pacing.
"No. You are absolutely not riding a big, sexy Viking today, no matter how fuckable he is and no matter how delicious he tastes. Get a grip, you slut-faced ho-bag."
I realize Verena is speaking to herself before she turns toward me with a deep breath. It is gratifying that she can't keep her gaze off my still-hard cock, nor can she seem to ignore the red dripping from my shoulder and neck.
Yet she forces herself to look at my eyes.
"I'm not going to order you to do anything. And we're not fucking, because you're magically indentured to me. That would be an abuse of power."
"I willingly gave you the power you hold over me," I remind her, moving from the bed to stand.
Verena has to tip her head back to meet my eye, but her blue gaze swings below my waist again briefly. When my bloody neck draws her attention once more, she pinches herself and grows more determined.
"Wulf. I already lost control and drank a lot of your blood."
"I enjoyed it."
"Yeah, I got that from the WMD you're swinging around, but that's bad."
"What makes it bad?" I challenge, longing for the warm buzz her feeding brings. "Anything you want, I more than willingly consent to give."
Verena groans, tossing damp, tangled red hair out of her face.
"Look—you're clearly a man of morals, so just imagine if our roles were reversed.
Let's pretend I'm the one magically compelled to do everything you say.
Would you feel comfortable hopping into bed with me, even if I asked you to order me around?
What if in the heat of the moment, you gave me an order to do something I didn't actually want to do? "
The thought of taking pleasure from Verena without her true choice in the matter sickens my stomach at once.
Although she is a sight to behold, so flushed with scarlet drying on her neck, I manage to look away. The weight of her words presses against my throat.
"I would not live with myself if that happened," I admit.
For a moment, we are both quiet. Eris also says nothing, though I sense him still watching from the mirror. Were I in his place, I doubt I could have made myself look away from Verena in all her naked perfection, either.
Before I can suggest that she let me satisfy her repeatedly without orders to harness the infernal hunger I have for her, Verena takes a deep breath to speak.
Then she groans, covering her nose and mouth.
"Holy shit, it's just not fair how good you smell. You standing there looking all fuckable and suckable is seriously hindering whatever self-control I'm trying to scrape together over here. Please get dressed and bandage your arms and neck."
Her polite order has me redressing at once. I ignore the stiffness of my still-excited cock as I tie my trousers and rebind my arms. Then I rip off a piece of the bindings to dab at my lightly bleeding neck.
The desire roaring through my veins begins to slow, yet I know it will never fully fade when I am near Verena.
I notice her reaching up to feel the small cut on her chin. It is barely bleeding now, but her brow furrows.
"I don't get it. Why doesn't Rhinestone's freaky Kool-Aid hurt you?"
She has called blood Kool-Aid many times over the last few days.
Though Eris is often exasperated by her references to her world, I don't mind them. Since I am sworn to serve at her side for the rest of my life, I will gradually learn everything about this woman and the strange world she hails from.
"And why…" Verena goes on.
Her dark blue gaze slips to the nearby mirror, where Eris is indeed watching. She pales. The dread on her face matches the terror I saw the night I broke the lock on her door.
"Oh, my god. All along, has it been possible for literally anyone to stroll through that passage?" she whispers.
The break in her trembling voice makes me wrap her in my arms before I can consider whatever possible wariness she may still hold toward me.
Yet Verena relaxes at once, exhaling as she buries her face in my chest.
I wonder if she can hear how much harder that makes my heart pound.
"No soul will intrude on you," I promise. "I shall slay any who try."
"I have never seen any but Queen Reinhilde and now Wulf set foot through this door," Eris adds in a quiet reassurance.
I wonder if her blood does not harm me because of the curse I carry. Perhaps it is also the reason I can enter that enchanted passage.
I am debating telling Verena of my blight when she speaks, her voice muffled against my chest.
"I admit, I did not peg you for a guy who gives the greatest bear hugs ever, but here we are."
That makes me withdraw quickly, coughing before I eye the secret door.
"If you wish, I will search the passage and the other entrance for any signs of others, fresh or old."
She adjusts the blanket wrapped around her enticing body, chewing her lip.
"I'm not going to turn down a little extra security detail.
Just maybe don't burst into the blue-door room again, because I seriously need to wash your Kool-Aid off before I gag.
That, or I'm going to start licking myself clean like a fucking cat. "
Verena clearly finds that thought gross, yet it makes my cock stir again.
From the way Eris's expression also darkens, I am certain I am not the only one picturing her lapping the last traces of our feeding session off of her own skin.
"I will not frighten you again," I manage to say thickly.
She turns to click open the secret passage, descending the stone steps ahead of me. As we reach the blue doorway, her reluctant sigh echoes in the passage. She grabs the handle, glancing up at me with a sheepish smile.
"You have no idea how much I hate to admit this, but I do feel way better now. That stupid fever is long gone—but no matter how horned up we were, it doesn't excuse me biting you like some kind of feral animal. Sorry about that."
She need not apologize to me for anything, least of all animalistic urges.
Watching her slip into the room with the blue door, I turn to stride through the rest of the passage. My intent is to start searching outside the stained-glass door for any signs of trespassers.
But I slow to a stop at the green door.
Earlier, when I was racing to find Verena, I opened another door in this passage and found a room with a stark white apple tree. This is the only room I have not glimpsed.
Curiosity has me turning the handle, stepping into a dark room. With the door left ajar, the light from the hall sconces allows me to glimpse shelves filled with aged tomes.
The ink must surely have faded in those by now, leaving them empty and useless.
Before I can close the door again, a draped object mounted on the wall draws my attention. Moving to it, I drag the fabric aside and stare in awe at what I find.