“Perhaps he has,” Boarstaff replied. “His kind are nothing if not methodical.”
“Do we have any way of knowing if his brothers, or their scouts aren’t watching everything he does now?” Thornmaker didn’t look up. “If he studied us, wouldn’t they be doing the same thing?”
“Then maybe we should speak with the shamans about setting some wards. Sebastian seems to be adapting to daylight fairly well, maybe if we use that to our advantage we can protect ourselves from them learning too much.” Boarstaff hadn’t stopped to think about vampires watching everything they did. Was such a thing even possible?
“Doechaser and I will speak and see what we can come up with.” Thornmaker stood and tucked his spear pieces under his arm, then frowned. “I don’t know if I should cast her into the fire, or hang her on my wall. She was a good spear. My best ever.”
With a respectful nod to the spearmaster, Boarstaff departed, his mind already turning to the implications of the council’s decision. By the time he reached the edge of the Heart Tree’s clearing, the afternoon sun filtered through ancient branches, casting dappled shadows across worn stone paths. In the distance, warriors continued their training, their movements more focused than usual after the morning’s demonstration.
His first instinct was to head east, to inform Sebastian of the council’s decision immediately. To tell him that his display of power, though terrifying to the village, had convinced even Thornmaker that they needed to learn from him. That his knowledge would be used to prepare their warriors for what might come.
But something held him back. The image of Sebastian after the fight, the way he’d stood alone as the crowd dispersed, watching them with that unreadable expression. There had been something almost contemplative in his stance, as if the demonstration had affected him as deeply as it had affected those who witnessed it.
Boarstaff turned toward the western hills instead. Sebastian had shown them all something profound that morning. He needed time alone to consider the implications of his own actions, just as the council had needed time to deliberate on theirs.
Morning would be soon enough to share the council’s decision. Let the vampire noble sit with his thoughts, as Boarstaff would sit with his.
As he walked away from the Heart Tree, Boarstaff the weight of the day’s events settled across his shoulders. Sebastian had become more than just a potential source of information or a dangerous guest... he had become a mirror in which they all saw reflections of a conflict generations in the making. Whether thatreflection would lead to understanding or destruction remained to be seen.
But for the first time since Sebastian had arrived in their village, Boarstaff felt they might have a real chance against the enemies that had always seemed invincible. Not just to survive, but perhaps to forge something neither orcs nor vampires had dared imagine possible.
Chapter Ten
Boarstaff couldn't sleep. The events of the day kept replaying in his mind; Sebastian's demonstration, the horror on his warriors' faces, and most of all, the emptiness he'd glimpsed in Sebastian's eyes afterward. Hours had passed since the vampire had walked away, needing solitude. The village lay quiet, but Boarstaff found himself standing at his window, staring toward the eastern caves where Sebastian had retreated.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. He turned to find Sebastian in the doorway, still wearing only the simple linen pants from earlier. Moonlight silvered his skin, highlighting the places where his transformation was most evident. Boarstaff's breath caught at the sight. There was something unguarded in Sebastian's stance that he'd never seen before.
"I didn't think I'd see you until morning." Boarstaff carefully kept his voice neutral despite the sudden quickening of his pulse.
Sebastian stepped inside, giving them some privacy. "I needed to be alone. Now I need something else." His voice dropped, an unfamiliar note of vulnerability entering it. "Don't turn me away again. Please."
The word hung between them; a request Sebastian would never have made before. Boarstaff felt something twist in his chest at the raw need in that simple "please." Their gazes met across the room. Neither moved for a moment, both aware ofwhat crossing this threshold would mean; not just for that night, but for everything that might follow.
"What I showed today..." Sebastian began.
"Doesn't matter now," Boarstaff cut him off. "What matters is what you choose."
Sebastian closed the distance between them in three deliberate steps. No predatory grace, just determined purpose. When he reached Boarstaff, he hesitated only briefly before leaning in.
Their lips met, but where Boarstaff expected caution, he found urgency. Sebastian's kiss was demanding, almost punishing, his fingers digging into Boarstaff's shoulders with controlled strength. The warchief responded instinctively, his hands finding Sebastian's waist to steady them both. When Sebastian's mouth opened against his, Boarstaff felt the edge of fangs, not fully extended but present, a reminder of what Sebastian was. The sensation sent an unexpected thrill through him, danger and desire intertwined in a way he'd never experienced before.
After a moment, Boarstaff pulled back slightly. "Slow down," he murmured, his thumb brushing Sebastian's cheek, his pulse quickening at the sight of those slightly extended fangs. "We have time."
"I don't want gentle," he said, voice rough with need. "Not tonight." His skin pulsed with heat beneath Boarstaff's touch. "Not after what I had to remember today."
Understanding dawned in Boarstaff's expression. He had seen the emptiness in Sebastian's eyes after the demonstration, recognized the familiar look of a warrior haunted by violence. As warchief, he'd witnessed that same look in his own men after their first kills, their first battles. Sometimes tenderness wasn't what was needed. Sometimes only fire could drive out fire.
"Then you won't have gentle," Boarstaff promised, his voice dropping to a register he rarely used outside of battle. There would be time for slower exploration another night. This wasn't about discovery; it was about release.
Their next kiss was harder, Boarstaff matching Sebastian's intensity. He caught Sebastian's lower lip between his teeth, drawing a moan that had nothing to do with vampire nobility and everything to do with raw desire.
Sebastian tore at Boarstaff's sleeping tunic, ripping the simple fabric in his urgency. The warchief responded by backing Sebastian against the wall, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand while the other worked at the ties of his pants.
"Like this?" Boarstaff growled, pressing his throbbing erection against Sebastian's through the thin fabric.
"Yes," Sebastian hissed, arching into the contact. Boarstaff's free hand moved decisively, untying Sebastian's pants and pushing them down just enough to take him in a firm grip. Sebastian gasped as Boarstaff stroked him with deliberate pressure, his head falling back against the wall, throat exposed, a pulse visibly racing beneath his skin.
Boarstaff released Sebastian's wrists to strip away the remaining clothing between them. Sebastian started to turn, but Boarstaff caught his shoulders, keeping him facing the wall.
