"I'm hungry," Sebastian said abruptly, turning back to face him. The sudden change of subject was obvious, but Boarstaff didn't press. "May I feed?"
Boarstaff nodded, already rolling up his sleeve. The ritual provided safer ground after the intensity of their conversation.
Sebastian approached slowly, his movements fluid and deliberate. There was gratitude in his eyes, not just for the offered blood, but clearly also for Boarstaff's willingness to step back from the emotional precipice they'd been approaching.
"Thank you," he said quietly, taking Boarstaff's arm with careful hands.
Sebastian knelt before him, a position that once would have been unthinkable for a vampire noble. His breath was warm against Boarstaff's wrist as he studied the blue veins visible beneath the warchief's deep green skin. The contrast—blue against green—seemed to fascinate Sebastian momentarily. The ritual had evolved between them, no longer the clinical necessity of their first encounters, but something deeper, more meaningful.
As Sebastian's fangs found his wrist, Boarstaff drew a sharp breath. The familiar heat spread through him, pain and arousal warring within him. Each feeding was a reminder of the strange intimacy they'd developed, a sharing of life that defied everything their peoples had taught them about each other.
He forced himself to focus on Sebastian's face, the focused concentration, the way his eyes closed slightly, the tension in his jaw easing as he took what was freely given. Anything to distract from his body's increasingly predictable response to these feedings, His pulse quickened. A warmth pooled low in his belly. The tightening that became harder to ignore with each intimacy.
It hadn't always been this way. The first feedings had been clinical, necessary. When had that changed? When had feeding become something he anticipated rather than endured?
Sebastian shifted position, his hand coming to rest high on Boarstaff's inner thigh, ostensibly to steady himself, but the placement was too deliberate to be accidental. Boarstaff's breath caught, his muscles tensing beneath Sebastian's touch. Hecaught the ghost of a smile on Sebastian's lips as he continued to feed, confirming what Boarstaff already knew; Sebastian was making his intentions clear once again.
That familiar heat intensified. It had been this way since Sebastian had first offered himself, explicit and unapologetic. The only one holding back was Boarstaff himself, bound by duty and caution.
When Sebastian finished, he sealed the small wounds with a careful press of his tongue, the gesture lingering just long enough to blur the line between necessity and something more. He rose to his feet, his hand sliding away from Boarstaff's thigh with deliberate slowness. Wiping a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth, his gaze met Boarstaff's with quiet intensity that held no pretense of innocence.
"Sunlight is getting easier and easier to endure. I'll be outside the caves tomorrow," Sebastian said, his tone lightening as he returned to safer topics. "If you're passing by on patrol."
Boarstaff understood the invitation in those words. "I check the eastern approach every morning," he replied. "Part of my duties as warchief."
Sebastian's smile grew, warming his transformed features. "Duty is important," he agreed, a glint in his eye suggesting he saw right through Boarstaff's excuse. "So is routine."
"Very important," Boarstaff nodded, his own mouth curving upward. "For both of us."
He turned to leave, aware that staying any longer would test resolution he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to maintain.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Sebastian sat cross-legged at the mouth of the eastern cave, watching sunlight filter through the forest canopy. These quiet moments had become precious to him, times when he could feel the changes in his body without the weight of suspicious eyes. The metal beneath his skin had settled into a strange harmony with his body, no longer foreign implants but something evolved—something that remembered its nature before vampire artificers bent it to their will. Sometimes, in quiet moments, he wondered what his father would say if he could see what his prized creation had become. The thought brought a bitter smile to his lips.
He sensed approaching footsteps long before they reached the cave entrance. The rhythm gave him pause; measured, deliberate, a warrior's confident stride, but not the one he had been expecting. This wasn't Boarstaff's familiar gait, which Sebastian had been anticipating since their conversation the previous evening. A flicker of disappointment passed through him, followed by wariness. Any change in routine here could mean danger.
"Thornmaker," he acknowledged without turning. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit? I was expecting your warchief."
The spearmaster's shadow fell across the cave entrance. Sebastian could smell the lingering scent of weapon oil and sweat from morning drills, undercut by the faint trace of distrust that seemed to permeate everything about the orc warrior.
"We need to talk," Thornmaker said, his voice carefully neutral despite the tension radiating from him. "Boarstaff has been detained by urgent council matters."
Sebastian turned then, examining the warrior fully. "This should be interesting." He rose with fluid grace that made Thornmaker's hand instinctively tighten on his ceremonial spear. "What could the esteemed spearmaster possibly want to discuss with a vampire?"
Thornmaker's scarred face revealed nothing, though his heartbeat quickened slightly. "Not discuss. Settle."
"Settle," Sebastian repeated, allowing his aristocratic upbringing to color his tone. "What exactly do you believe needs settling between us?"
"Your presence here." Thornmaker's bluntness carried the weight of generations of conflict. "Boarstaff may have granted you access to our healing house, our training grounds—"
"Your warchief has been remarkably accommodating," Sebastian interrupted, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A quality you clearly don't share."
Thornmaker's jaw tightened. "Our people deserve to see what you really are. Not just what you pretend to be when Boarstaff is watching."
"And how do you propose to accomplish this revelation?" Sebastian asked, genuine curiosity mixing with amusement. "Another council interrogation? Perhaps some ancient orc ritual I haven't yet experienced?"
"A challenge," Thornmaker replied. "At the training ring. Just you and me."
