I meant to think the words, yet they came spilling out.
She goes quiet, and I think I’ve done something bad mentioning it. Now the words hang in the air, I can’t just let them die. “Is that something you’ve thought about? Something you’ve debated?”
“Turning into a vampire? Not with any seriousness.”
For some reason, that angers me.I would spend every moment of eternity with you, and yet you’ve not thought about the notion with “any seriousness”?“It may not be your choice, eventually,” I grunt.
I will never turn or harm Sephania without her consent. The same cannot be said for other vampires—other noblebloods who seek her Loreblood and wish to bring harm to their enemies.
She lets out a soft chuckle. “You never pull your punches, do you?”
It’s time for a subject change, to get the brooding thoughts out of my head. “I did when you had me on my back heel with the shovel. Came at me swift, you did.”
“Not swift enough.”
“Well—” I cut myself off, clearing my throat. Here I am chatting like a gossipmonger. It makes me feel ridiculous. But every sweet word spoken from Sephania’s lips deserves an answer—no,demandsan answer—so I can’t feel wrong about it. “I’ve got to finish burying these bodies,” I say, sitting up and nudging my chin at the mummies.
She lets out a heavy sigh, sitting up with me. “I’ll help.”
I’m surprised by that. “It’s hard work.”
Her eyes glance down below my waist, where she can see I’m already stirring to life again in my pants. With a small smile, she says, “I’m not opposed to a little hard work to earn my big rewards, Vallan.”
An hour later, the bodies are buried. An hour after that, I’ve wrenched three more climaxes out of Sephania with a combination of my tongue, cock, and fingers. I paint her with more of my essence across her warm flesh, which she gladly accepts this time before hoisting her pants back on.
It can never just beone timewith us. It’s an impossibility, our bodies made for fucking each other. The first time we mated, I kept her hostage for two nights until we had rung out every drop from one another.
After we’re finished, we head to the camp and main tent. There’s a surprise guest waiting inside, when I had expected Cordea to scowl at me for taking so long to bury the bodies.
The little cub, Garroway, sits on a chair, one leg crossed over his knee with his foot bouncing. His bald head rises as the flap pulls back, and the light on his face dies abruptly when we enter together.
“Garro,” Sephania says, smiling wide. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Garroway’s eyes turn beady. He sniffs the air, and even though we’re fifteen feet from him at the entrance of the tent, I know what he scents. “Damn the Damned, you’ve fucked without me again,” he whines.
Sephania’s face blushes. “Erm. Shit.”
“Not everyone gets an invitation, cub.”
He blinks at me, standing. “Is that a . . . joke? FromVallan Stellos?By all that’s unholy, you must have put him in a jolly mood, little honey badger.”
I grunt in disapproval.
Sephania chuckles. “Can’t spot the lie in that one. What brings you to the mines? I thought you were in Nuhav conducting business with the silversmith.”
“I was.” Garroway turns and hauls an oblong-shaped bag off the ground. He sets it on the chair and I hear the clink of metal inside. “Came to deliver this personally, Vall. As requested.”
Seph tilts her head, questioning. I walk forward and open the bag, peering at the silver sword inside. Even wearing my gloves, as usual, I don’t take a chance touching the shimmering blade.
When Sephania comes up beside me, she gasps. “Oh, how pretty. A silver sword, just like Skar’s.”
“Not exactly like it,” I say. “But yes. Good work, cub.”
“Care to tell me who it’s for?” Garroway asks, bobbing his thin eyebrows.
I lean over, kiss Sephania on the forehead, and grab the sword bundle, tossing it over my shoulder. “I must be off now.”
Sephania looks confused. “Wait, what? Just like that?”
