"Before someone wonders where their warchief spent the night?" Sebastian finished for him, no judgment in his tone.
Boarstaff nodded, then hesitated before extending his wrist. "Before I go..."
Sebastian looked at the offered wrist. "You don't need to," he said. "The buck from yesterday—"
"This isn't about need," Boarstaff replied simply.
Sebastian sank gracefully to his knees before Boarstaff. Without breaking eye contact, he took Boarstaff's wrist, turning it to expose the veins beneath green skin.
"I shouldn't enjoy the sight of you on your knees as much as I do." Boarstaff’s voice was low and rough.
Sebastian's lips curved into a smirk. "And I shouldn't enjoy being on my knees for an orc as much as I do, but here we are." There was no shame in his admission, only a wry acknowledgment of how far they'd both come from their first hostile encounters.
Sebastian brought Boarstaff's wrist to his mouth, his fangs extending as he inhaled the scent of the warchief's skin. With his other hand, he touched Boarstaff's thigh, sliding upward with deliberate intent, tracing patterns against the leather as he found his mark just below the junction of hip and leg.
The first draw of blood made Boarstaff's breath catch. It was different from their previous feedings; not functional, not merely necessary, but intimate in a way that transcended physical sensation. Sebastian's hand tightened on his thigh, thumb pressing against sensitive flesh as he drank. Not deeply, not desperately, but with the slow attention of someone savoring a rare pleasure.
A low moan escaped Boarstaff, the sound reverberating in the quiet cave. Unlike before, he made no attempt to hide his reaction, no apology for how his body responded to Sebastian's touch, to the exquisite sensation of Sebastian drawing life from him in measured sips.
Sebastian's gaze remained on Boarstaff's face as he drank, watching each shift of expression, each moment of pleasure unveiled. He moved his hand higher, teasing through the leather, feeling Boarstaff harden beneath his touch.
When he finally withdrew his fangs, his tongue sealed the small wounds with careful attention. He remained kneeling, looking up at Boarstaff whose breathing had quickened noticeably.
"I could stay a little longer." Desire roughened Boarstaff’s voice.
Sebastian rose to his feet in one fluid motion, close enough that their bodies nearly touched. "No," he said softly. "Your council waits. Your duties call." He leaned forward, brushing his lips against Boarstaff's ear. "And I prefer not to be rushed."
Boarstaff's laugh was low and warm. "Tonight, then?"
"Perhaps." Sebastian stepped back slightly. "If your duties allow."
"I'll check on you later today," Boarstaff promised, reluctance clear in his posture as he walked toward the cave entrance. "After the council meeting."
Sebastian nodded, watching as Boarstaff paused at the threshold, the growing light casting him in silhouette once more.
"Sebastian..." Boarstaff began, then seemed to reconsider whatever he had been about to say. Instead, he simply nodded once, a gesture that somehow carried more meaning than words could have conveyed.
Then he was gone, his footsteps fading into the forest morning sounds.
Sebastian remained at the cave entrance for some time, watching the spot where Boarstaff had disappeared among the trees. The sun crested the horizon, spilling gold across the landscape, warming his skin in a way that would have been impossible during his days as a fully enhanced vampire noble.
"Sebastian."
He turned from where he'd been watching the settlement through the cave's entrance. Ochrehand approached slowly, her shaman's robes rustling against the stone. Her expression held something he couldn't quite read.
"Shaman." He inclined his head slightly. Old habits of noble courtesy, even in his primitive cave. "How can I help you?"
"I wanted to thank you," she said simply. "For sharing the buck with our people. For the feast."
Sebastian shrugged, genuinely puzzled. "It was nothing. I took what I needed, left the rest. Seemed wasteful to let it rot."
"Nothing to you, perhaps," Ochrehand settled herself on a flat stone near the cave's mouth. "To a predator, bringing down prey is simple enough. Natural."
"Exactly." Sebastian frowned, wondering why she seemed to be making such a significant matter of basic resource management. "I don't understand why everyone keeps mentioning it."
Ochrehand pointed toward the settlement, where midday activities were in full swing. "Do you see the elderly couple there? By the central well? I can't see them, my eyesight isn't good enough, but I know their routine, and I suspect your eyesight is far better than mine."
Sebastian followed her gesture. An aged orc woman sat beside an even older male, both of their bodies showing the wear of many seasons. The woman's hands moved slowly as she mended what looked like a child's torn shirt. The man dozed against her shoulder, his breathing shallow but steady.
