Chapter Seven
Finn
The doctor’s name was Cornsilk, and he looked a little surprised when all of us filed into the dining area, where he was working at one of the tables. Mason had told me about him after Marco suggested he take blood samples. He was what this pack called a pet—a non-shifting child of wolf parents. He didn’t live at the lodge, or at least he hadn’t the last time Mason knew of—he worked at a hospital in the nearby town of Brevard, so he wouldn’t normally have been here at Marco’s lodge at this time of morning. I wondered what was so important that he’d made a special trip up here to see Mason, and it made me uneasy.
Some of the other wolves in Marco’s pack were hanging around the dining room too, including Casey and his mate. In response to my question about him, Mason whispered to me that his name was Rory and that he was a wolf. A cute one. Two wolves were usually way too dominant to mate, and I wondered how they worked it out. Then the smaller, curly-haired Rory got up to go refill his mate’s coffee cup. He stood behind Casey’s chair when we came in and put a hand on his shoulder, and I figured it out.
“Mason,” Dr. Cornsilk said, standing up to shake his hand. “Good to see you again. And these men are…?
“My mates, Valerian and Finn,” he said, gesturing toward us.
The doctor shook hands with me and nodded to Valerian. He apparently shared some of the feelings of the rest of the pack when it came to vampires, but he looked Val over with interest. “I’d love to have a chance to examine you sometime, if you’ll allow it.”
Valerian looked at him in alarm. He actually stepped closer to me, and I think the move was unconscious. I put a protective arm around his waist. “Maybe some other time. We’re here to concentrate on Mason now.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Mason. Well, I’ve found some very interesting things. Won’t you all sit down?”
We sat down at the table, Valerian and Mason across from me and Jax next to me. Marco, who had apparently already heard all this before, at the end of the table with Nicky perched on the arm of his chair.
“As you know, Mason, I took several vials of blood and ran the tests on them. I’ve been interested in DNA studies since I was an undergrad, and as far as I’ve been able to tell, werewolves are the result of a hereditary mutation, a gene anomaly, inherited from at least one parent and present in a person’s life in virtually every cell in the body.”
“What’s an anomaly?” I asked.
“Anything that deviates from what’s expected. From the norm. When the mother’s egg and the father’s sperm cell unite, the resulting fertilized egg cell receives DNA from both parents. If this DNA has a mutation, the child that grows from the fertilized egg will have the mutation in each of his or her cells. Werewolves have the same mutation in all of theirs.”
“Huh. So what does this tell us? Mason’s not a werewolf. Not all werewolf, anyway.”
“A werewolf is only one type of transformation. In folklore and literature, there are many instances of transformations. The Greek and Roman gods did it frequently, into all manner of birds and animals. Transformations are also common in Asian literature and European history. Reports of trials for lycanthropy are common in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The folklore of Native Americans is full of examples too. The Dark Hollow wolves are descendants of eastern tribes of American Indians, who preferred the form of wolves.”
I leaned forward with interest in what he was saying. “So you’re telling us…what? That any of us could change into whatever we wanted to like Mason does?”
“Maybe at some point in the evolutionary process, yes. Not anymore. It’s too firmly established in your DNA. Now vampires, unlike werewolves, have an acquired, or somatic mutation, which is present only in certain cells, not in every cell in the body. It’s a reaction to some traumatic event—in the case of a vampire, the event would be when he or she was bitten by the sire and the subsequent ingestion of the sire’s blood—if I have the way of things?” He angled a look over at Valerian who gave him a wary nod. “I think Mason’s mutation is somatic too. The result of being bitten by two so-called ‘sires’ for want of a better word, in such a short period of time, literally one on top of another, exposing him to toxins present in their blood and causing the mutation.”
“So what are you saying?” Jax broke in. “That his ability to transform into that-that creature is because of a mutation of his DNA?”
“Yes. It developed from one inherited strain, in the case of the werewolf and one acquired strain, from the vampire, within a short time span, and the mutation apparently gave him some abilities from both species, along with the capability for another stage of mutation when subjected to a spontaneous gene-fusion. In other words, his ability to transform was born, but he’s not limited to any one form. This mutation—this blood strain—uniquely has the ability to sustain and harbor viruses carried by both the werewolf and the vampire, as well as create a fusion with post-mutation strains which have produced some of the same results as the active form, which would be regarded as a hybrid.”
“Whoa,” I said, breaking in. “Wait, what now?”
“He’s a hybrid. He can choose whatever form he likes.”
Mason smiled. “I get it. But what does this tell us? Can you fix this thing, assuming I want you to, or is it permanent?”
“Oh, it…” He looked puzzled, like the thought of fixing it had never occurred to him. “It’s permanent, for sure.”
Mason nodded. “Will it stay like this or get worse?”
“Worse? No, I, uh, don’t think so. It may have taken it a while to fully develop. Didn’t you tell Jax that you had changed into a wolf once before?”
“Yes. And even a white tiger.”
“How interesting.”
That was one word for it. I was beginning to wonder how on earth any of this could help.
“But I think now it must be in its final mutated form,” the doctor continued. “You’ll be able to choose your transformation.”
“Okay,” I said and got to my feet. “Okay, well, good to know. Thanks, Doc. Let’s go, Mason.”
“Wait a minute!” Jax spoke up in alarm. “Mason! That’s it? Are you going to let this wolf bully you into getting up and leaving?”
Before I could say what I thought about that statement, Mason overrode me. “He’s not bullying me, Jax. What else am I going to do? The doctor said there wasn’t anything to be done about it.”
“Mason, I heard about what happened at the lodge. You changed into that demon thing and were so out of control nobody could handle you. It took three of the wolves to hold you down.”
“And I’ll bet you don’t remember any of that, do you?” Marco asked, almost casually.
“No, but what difference does that make? Look, I’m sorry if I made a scene or whatever. But if I understand correctly, I’m just going to have to live with it. You guys don’t need to worry about it anymore. I’m leaving, okay? We’ll get out of here today.”
Jax folded his arms across his chest, obviously angry at me for some reason. I leaned across the table. “Wait—hold up. You don’t remember changing? You don’t remember any of that fight? What about the one last night?”
“Not much of it, no, but I can’t see that it’s a huge problem. I was upset. I obviously shifted because Valerian was being attacked. I remember that part well enough,” I said, shooting Marco a dirty look. It just bounced off him, as he stared blandly back at me.
“Jax,” I said, looking at my brother. “We need to just get out of here. You’ve got your hands full as it is and you don’t need us crowding you and causing more problems. We’re going back to Virginia to Finn’s pack land. I’ll let you know how to find me if you need me and I’ll keep in touch. I promise. But this isn’t the place for me anymore.”
Before Jax could reply, Marco broke in. “That wouldn’t be a good idea right now, Mason.”
Mason bristled, but Marco was actually right, as much as I hated to admit it. I said, “That’s something we need to talk about first, Mason.”
Marco nodded. “And there’s something you don’t know yet.”
“Like what?” Mason and I both said at the same time.
“Like exactly what the bloodsucker who attacked Cade said to him. He didn’t just ask about Valerian. He gave Cade a warning.”
“What warning?”
“About Valerian, I think,” Marco said, gazing over at him. “He’ll know better than we do.”
Valerian raised his dark, vigilant eyes. Funny. He didn’t even look all that surprised. “What is it? What was the warning?”
“The nightstalker who attacked Cade told him to give a message to the vampire visiting his lodge.”
I gasped and glanced over at Valerian, who had gone even paler, if that was possible. Still he looked almost—relieved. Or maybe a better word for it would be resigned. Like he’d been expecting something to happen for the longest time and finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the time had finally come—the thing he’d been dreading had happened and there was no reason to be anxious anymore. Mason was glaring at Marco, obviously furious about the message and worried sick at the same time.
“Well, what is it, Marco?” he asked, his tone a little sharp. “Tell us what he said.”
Looking directly at Valerian, Marco spoke in a low, quiet voice, which, in itself, was unusual.
“He said…the bloodsucker said…for us to tell you that he’s coming for you. And that you just ran out of time.”
****
Valerian
They were all looking at me expectantly, as if they were waiting for me to explain. But how could I? What could I say that would ever even come close to explaining Cassius? Because of course, that had to be who it was who attacked Cade and left the message for me. And how could I ever explain him to Mason and Finn? I wasn’t even sure who or what he was to me myself. How could I make any of them understand? So I did the only thing I could do—the thing that had been my default setting for so long.
I lied.
I’d had a great deal of practice in telling lies over the years, so they came easily to me. “I have no idea what any of that that means, or if it was really intended for me. After all, who on earth could possibly be looking for me?” I gazed around the circle of faces staring at me. “I mean it. I really have no idea, Mason, so you can stop looking at me like that. You and Finn know that you destroyed the nightstalkers of my old coven. A few of the thralls might have escaped, but they’re certainly unlikely to attack a wolf or make a threat against me. No one else knows I’m here or would care for that matter.”
Mason stared at me a few seconds too long, his beautiful eyes narrowed. Then he turned back to Marco and shrugged. “See? He doesn’t know anything about it,” he explained, as if he needed to translate my words for the others.
Marco looked far from convinced. Finn watched both Mason and me with a deeply suspicious look. I didn’t think he was going to let me off the hook so easily. Still, he didn’t argue. Just stood up when Mason did.
Mason said, “Can we go home now? I’m really tired after spending the night in that cell of yours in the basement. And somebody tried to beat me half to death last night.”
I made a small sound of disapproval—an insignificant one, really—but Marco turned quickly to look at me and snarled back at me. “I understand the sentiment,” he said. “But you need to calm down.”
“I assure you, I’m perfectly calm, just as I was last night. If you recall, I pulled your pack members off my mate and tossed them aside instead of ripping out their throats. I believe I was quite prudent in my…dealings with your wolves. I assure you it could have been much worse had they actually injured him.”
The delectable Nicky put his hand on Marco’s shoulder and Mason and Jax both stepped between us. For the next few seconds, I indulged in some posturing right along with the wolf in front of me. Childish, of course, but these alphas really did seem to bring out the worst in me. When the doctor and Nicky finally were successful in pulling Marco aside, I turned to find Finn scowling at me so fiercely it startled me for a moment. Whose side was he on, anyway?
I turned and strode from the room with Mason and Finn trailing after me. Jax came too, all the while trying to wring a concession out of Mason to stay at least until the weekend, which was another three days away. Marco called after us, “I’ll be coming by to talk to you about this more, asshole. This isn’t over! Not by a long shot.”
Mason shot him a dark look over his shoulder, but none of us wasted our breath arguing any more. I, for one, knew he was telling the truth. Soon he and some contingent of his wolves would be coming around asking questions, and I had no idea what to tell them. There was only one being in the world who could be looking for me—who would give Cade such a message for me. And I had no idea what I would do when I saw him again.
Jax’s presence beside Mason on the trail prevented all of us from talking freely on the long hike back to Cade’s and Jax’s lodge, leaving me plenty of time to brood over the message Cassius had left for me.
Mason knew I had lied—he didn’t know why, but he had given me the benefit of the doubt. So far. Once we were alone, however, I had no doubt that he and Finn would be subjecting me to an interrogation, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to say.
Weeks ago, when Mason had confronted me in our meeting halfway between Finn’s cabin and my coven home, I’d given him a long, complicated history of myself. I’d told him the name of my sire had been Jacob. I said I had been a soldier who had died in 1758 at Fort Duquesne, in what’s now Pennsylvania, during the French-Indian War, and I was a member of a reconnaissance party stationed there. We were surprised by some Virginians under the command of General Washington, and I’d had the very bad luck to be one of the few ones not taken prisoner. I’d told him my sire had found me among the dead and discovered that I wasn’t quite gone yet and turned me. I told him I had loved my sire and been sad to lose him. The only problem was that all of it had been a damned lie.
I did die in what is now Pennsylvania at Fort Duquesne during the French-Indian War—that much was true. But not as some tragic, heroic figure, but as a deserter, shot for leaving my post to try to save myself during the siege. My sire hadn’t even been called Jacob. Even now, all these years later, I found it hard to speak my actual sire’s name out loud. Cassius. His name had been Cassius, and he was far from being the kindly, benevolent father figure, the wise, old mentor I had made him out to be. That Jacob was entirely fictitious. Cassius had once been a Roman soldier, a centurion, like I’d told Mason Jacob had been, but there the resemblance ended. Cassius was cruel and vicious and inhumanly beautiful. He was a stone-cold killer to the marrow of his bones and from the very first, he had consumed me body and soul.
It wasn’t that I wanted to lie to Mason, even though it came so naturally, but I didn’t want to tell him the truth and put myself in an even more unfavorable light. And after all the years of being separated from Cassius, I was still terrified. Not of his physical presence, but of the hold he had over me—had always had over me right from the start. Once I finally escaped him, more than twenty years after he turned me, I knew it would only be a matter of time before he found me again. I had always known it would happen someday. And now it had. The last time I saw Cassius, I had no idea it was going to be the last time. That I wouldn’t feel his touch or hear his voice again for over two hundred and twenty-five years. I could close my eyes and be right back with him again, in the flickering half-light of his dungeon.
I heard several people move into the room, gracefully, silent as vampires always were, but I knew they were there to watch me. I could smell them, sickly sweet with the coppery tang of blood. It made me ravenous, but I knew I’d have to wait until this was over to feed. A reward for my submission.
I did a quick mental evaluation to determine how I felt about that—was I repulsed that others would see me being beaten and sexually abused, or, more likely and closer to the truth, was I a bit turned on by their observation? It hadn’t always been the case. Once I’d tried desperately not to be noticed—to stick to the shadows and avoid scrutiny. But that was the old me—the human me. The vampire turned and owned by Cassius, on the other hand, found the struggle to be unobserved simply too much to bear. Still, his friends were an annoyance. They might break my concentration, and I needed all of my focus in order to withstand the tortures Cassius had planned for me.
What would my family think to see me naked and kneeling in front of a group of men, a thick collar around my neck and matching wrist and ankle cuffs? I knew the answer—nothing. Cassius had killed them. My mother and father, my wife and children, brothers and sisters—all dead. Murdered years later after he’d turned me, and we had spent some time traveling through Europe. He had made a special detour to Marseille to take care of those loose ends of mine and made me watch. They were no longer alive to pass judgment on me or my sire. I knew the knowledge that he’d murdered my family should bother me. That didn’t mean it did. I was more or less indifferent to their fate. Every time I tried to conjure up any human emotion, something dark and wicked would slither into my soul and those old human emotions would be consumed utterly.
Actually, the only feelings I did have were all focused on Cassius. My sire. My owner. My master. My…everything. Whatever he wanted. Whenever he wanted it. Those were the only two rules I needed to abide by.
“Cassius! Look what you’ve done,” a deceptively amiable voice said. “I thought you said you were going to keep him as your thrall—your human pet, to drink from him, to play with him…you said you wouldn’t turn him.”
“Who says I turned him?”
The man made a sniffing sound. “He’s no longer human, Cassius. I’d smell him if he were.”
Cassius laughed softly and reached down to stroke my hair. A human pet? No, I was his vampire pet. Always his pet. I’d belonged to Cassius since he’d found me not-quite-dead in the forest, a young man who once upon a time been a good person. No, that was a lie. I’d never been much good. I was the oldest of ten children and my parents had been desperately poor. I learned to beg for scraps of food and pick pockets at an early age. By the time I was nine years old, I was sucking sailor’s cocks in alleyways near the docks of Marseille for a few coins. By the time I was in my early twenties I was more or less a hardened thief, a criminal who was arrested, forced into the army and sent to America to fight in a foreign war. As hard as it was to arrive on the wild, American shore and be marched for weeks through dense forests, far from civilization, it was still like a holiday in comparison to my old life. It seemed so long ago but I always felt like I could still reach out and touch that life if I tried.
The vampire currently speaking was correct. Cassius had turned me on my twenty-eighth birthday, a few short months ago, after I had spent almost two years as a blood thrall. I was still a babe in the vampire world, still learning what I needed to know in order to survive. My training, so far, had been…brutal.
“Yes, I know what I said in the past,” Cassius purred and he continued to stroke my hair. “Things change, though, Cain. I finally had to admit that my human pet was simply too fragile.” His fingers dipped lower to trail a path down the center of my back. A gentle caress. “This beautiful pale skin marked beautifully while he was human but as my desires…grew…I worried that in my enthusiasm, I might mar his perfection.” The finger tracked the path back up my back again. “And we all know I won’t tolerate imperfection.” He used the tip of his finger under my chin to give me unspoken permission to raise my head. “This way, I can literally rip the flesh from his body and he’ll heal straight back again.”
His smile turned possessive as he added, “Forever perfect. Forever mine.”
Forever his? Could I do that? Could I be happy with this being my…eternity? I felt the slithering inside my brain, forcing the questions or doubts to return to their hiding place. I supposed it was a form of his compulsion. I’d felt it as a human, but now that he’d turned me, it was different. Stronger. Even more difficult to resist.
“I’m certain you meant to say ‘forever ours’, didn’t you, Cassius?” Cain teased. “You do mean to share, don’t you?”
There was an arrogant lilt to his voice that managed to push me to the edge. I didn’t like this Cain, whoever the hell he was. I wanted to avert my eyes, to see what the man with the devil voice and uniquely copper smell looked like, but I knew better. When with Cassius, I was to never look at another man. That had been an early lesson learned the hard way.
I watched, in shock, as Cassius’ eyes turned blood red and a snarl slipped from his lips. His fangs, razor sharp and intimidating, extended to demonstrate his displeasure. I took a small amount of delight in knowing that anger was directed toward the one called Cain instead of me. I knew, from experience, how Cassius handled me when he was angry. It would be interesting to see him go up against a vampire more his age.
“Nobody touches Valerian. No one, but me.” He growled.
I could tell from the shocked gasps that came from the three men standing over me that this wasn’t Cassius’ normal behavior. The fact that Cassius was treating me different, not wanting to share me, caused me to glow with pride. I was special to him. There’d been many times during our seven years ‘relationship’ that I often wondered how Cassius truly felt about me. More often than not, he was brutally abusive.
“But you always allow us to play, Cassius,” Cain argued. “Why would this one be any different?” The man snarled as he looked down at me with disdain. “Surely you aren’t becoming…affectionate, are you, Cassius?”
The man’s eyes sparkled as he antagonized Cassius. I remained perfectly silent and still, knowing how dangerous Cassius’ temper was. I’d watched him rip the beating hearts out of humans. Other vampires, though stronger and more of an adversary than the weak humans, sometimes had their heads torn off if they had been foolish enough to anger him.
Cassius, barely holding himself in check, stroked my cheek softly as he looked into my eyes. The touch, so gentle and so foreign coming from Cassius’ hands, felt delicious, almost making me feel human again.
“Affection? Hmmm, I wonder if I’m even capable of such soft, human emotions?” He tilted my face to the left and then the right. “What do you think, love? Am I capable of affection?”
Was he? I wasn’t certain, nor was I certain of how he wanted me to answer the question. Would affection be viewed as a weakness among vampires? Cain had made it sound so. Cassius might be many things, but weak was not one of them. “You’re capable of whatever you want, Sire,” I finally answered.
After a few seconds, he smiled down at me. The red glow in his eyes grew brighter, warning everyone in the room that he was angry. “They aren’t worthy to even watch you, pet. I apologize for bringing them here. You are much too beautiful for them to be in your presence.”
“Cassius?” The man called Cain asked quietly. “Your eyes are troubling me. We’ve been friends for hundreds of years. Surely you wouldn’t allow…”
Cain never finished his thought. Cassius, moving so quickly that he was nothing more than a blur, reached him before another word left his lips. I heard the man make a strange gasping sound. I wasn’t certain if it was shock or outrage. It didn’t matter. Cain, simply, was no more. Cassius ripped his head from his shoulders and flung it across the room and his body turned to ash. The other two men, smarter than Cain because they’d kept their mouths closed, but still stupid for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, fell just as quickly as their comrade. Blood sprayed across the room, across my face, and their thousand-year-old bodies met the same fate as Cain’s.
I’d witnessed Cassius’s overwhelming vampire strength in the past, but I was always frightened by how powerful he truly was. He’d never left any doubts in my mind about one thing—I was his, always and forever. Regardless of how I might feel about spending all of eternity by his side.
“I’m sorry, my pet. I’d thought to…show off to my friends. You are such a treasure. It felt almost sacrilege to keep your perfection all to myself.” He shrugged as if he hadn’t just killed three powerful vampires. His eyes, still glowing, narrowed as he reached a hand down to cup my chin. “You do understand that you belong to me, don’t you, pet?” He tilted his head from side to side. “Sometimes your thoughts trouble me. They’re so…human, at times. This disturbs me.”
“Why, Sire?” I asked. Knowing that I’d angered him worried me. Knowing that he could easily read my thoughts terrified me. Unable to stop myself, my eyes drifted to the left. Cain’s ashes were scattered across the floor.
“Human emotions are a weakness, pet. Don’t allow them to creep into your mind. It angers me when it happens.”
The threat hung heavily in the room. I did love him. I’d loved him from the first moment I’d opened my eyes to find him leaning over me. He was gorgeous and worldly and an aura of power surrounded him. I’d succumbed immediately and my feelings hadn’t wavered over the years.
Was it compulsion? I didn’t know.
“I apologize, Sire. I’ll work harder at what you want me to be. I…I only live to please you.”
“Never have there been truer words. Please, my pet, don’t ever forget this. If you stop pleasing me…”
“Never,” I vowed, meaning it with a conviction a human wouldn’t be capable of understanding.
“Perfect, Pet,” he praised me. “Now, come along. Let’s get started. There’s so many more playthings for us to enjoy.”
He attached a leash to my collar and tugged me into a standing position. Together, we stepped on the ashes of the men he’d invited to watch us play but who had ended up being destroyed. Repulsion whipped through me, but I quickly forced the feeling away. Repulsion, I was certain, would be considered a human emotion.
“Micah! Take care of the mess while I entertain my pet.” He said to one of the poor human boys he kept on his estate. He fed from them, played with them, gave them daily tasks, and, eventually, he killed them. If I wasn’t careful, I would begin to feel sorry for the humans as I watched their health slowly decline due to the loss of blood and physical abuse they were forced to endure. I’d learned early on not to befriend them.
“Yes, Master,” the boy answered quietly.
I mentally prepared myself for what was about to take place. When Cassius had first taken me, I’d been shocked by his sexual appetite and the games he enjoyed playing. Wicked games. I was thoroughly convinced I’d spend eternity in hell, but then Cassius had assured me that no hell existed…none other than the hell he could rain down on me if I didn’t obey him.
Thankfully, I enjoyed his games and playtime. When Cassius and I were in his dungeon, all his attention was focused on me. Attention was something I’d always craved, yet never had the courtesy of receiving. Certainly not from my family.
“Why are your thoughts on your family, Pet?” Cassius asked quietly as he tugged me farther into the room and locked the door behind us. I immediately went to the center of the room and assumed the position he’d taught me the first time we’d entered it. “I’m certain I’ve told you how much you thinking of them displeases me.”
On my knees, my ass resting on my heels. Legs spread wide with my cock, hard and begging for my Sire’s touch, hanging between my opened legs, I tried to empty my mind. My back was arched straight. Hands behind my back and resting directly above the swell of my ass. Head down.
I remained silent.
“You have permission to answer me, pet,” he said as he crossed the room to stand in front of me.
“I was thinking that no one ever gave me the attention you do, Sire.” I wanted to look up, into his eyes, but knew better. My eyes remained downcast, but I imagined the love I’d see in Cassius’ eyes if I were to look up. I was his treasure. He’d told me so many times over the course of the last seven years.
“Very good, pet,” he whispered. “Are you ready for me?”
“Always, Sire,” I answered without hesitation. There were times when I wondered if he used his compulsion to make me want to play in his dungeon. Cassius’ dungeon was large and well-furnished. It held a human cage, a pillory, a rack, stocks, wooden horses, an iron chair, and a Spanish mantle. Out in one of the many courtyards of his estate, there was a Brazen Bull—where he would roast people alive. Yes, I’d witnessed it and had begged for mercy for the poor woman who had angered Cassius once. He’d laughed at my ‘soft heart’ and had me taken to our rooms. Her screams had haunted me for weeks.
Cassius, however, never used any of his torture devices on me. He caned me. He put me into humiliating positions and fucked me until I screamed his name. He stuck strange instruments inside me that he had made specifically for that purpose. And I should probably have felt ashamed for liking it so much.
He used his hand to tilt my head up. “You’re mine, Pet. Please don’t ever force me to change that.”
I started shaking my head immediately. I couldn’t begin to imagine my life without Cassius in it. He was my sire and protector. “Yours,” I answered swiftly. A strange look flickered in his dark eyes, one I’d never seen before. Seconds later, he dipped his head and placed a soft kiss against my lips.
I heard my own gasp echo of the walls of the dungeon. Cassius had never kissed me; he said it was a ‘human’ thing to do. His lips, plump but icy cold, felt good against mine as I hungrily returned the gesture. This was what I’d been craving, what had been missing from our relationship. Unlike my maker, I craved affection and until his lips touched mine, I hadn’t realized I was starving for it.
“Enough,” He hissed as he pulled away. His eyes glowed red, revealing just how much the simple gesture affected him. “You’re going to be the end of me, pet!” He walked away, his shoulders rigid and his back ramrod straight. I’d irritated him. No, he’d irritated himself.
“Come to me,” he ordered, his voice huskier than usual. As I crossed the cold floor, I fought to keep the smile from tugging at my lips. I enjoyed his punishments. I kept moving until I stood in front of him. I was ready to do whatever he demanded of me. My body and soul craved his touch and the kiss we just shared made my cravings even stronger.
Without speaking another word, he took my right wrist, pulled it high above my head and fastened a metal clasp around it. My left wrist quickly received the same treatment. All gentleness he’d exhibited seconds ago had vanished. Testing my new vampire strength, I tugged on the heavy chains securing me but they held tightly. I suspected that wouldn’t be the case much longer as my strength and skill grew daily.
Next, he took a long metal bar with metal cuffs on each end and placed it between my feet, securing my ankles into the heavy metal locks. When he’d finished, my legs were spread obscenely wide and my arms were stretched high above my head. My body was lean and graceful. Cassius had the same build, perhaps a bit smaller, but his vampire strength certainly compensated for any lack in size.
“Who is your Master?” He whispered in my ear.
“You are, Sire,” I answered quickly, meaning it with all my heart. There were things about Cassius that troubled me, but I knew I loved him. I had to love him.
His open palm swatted my ass hard enough to cause a yelp to slip from between my lips. Then another. And another. They kept coming. Harder and faster. He was more…driven than usual. I struggled to get my mind under control because I’d quickly learned when playing Cassius’ games, it was more mental than physical. Sure, he pushed my physical limits, even going past what I was comfortable with on many occasions. I focused on the pain and turned it into pleasure. This was Cassius, the creature I loved. These games were his way of showing his love to me, and the pain eventually turned to pleasure.
Cassius stepped away to admire the way his hand had turned my pale flesh a bright red. He’d been disappointed that by turning me into a vampire, he’d taken away my ability to bruise and flush, but as long as I fed properly, the blood would still rush to the surface during an intense spanking.
“So beautiful, my pet,” he whispered as he moved close again, his hand reaching out to caress the tender flesh. “I turned you at the height of your physical perfection.”
I felt him move behind me and then listened to the familiar sounds of him unfastening his breeches. His hands roughly parted my cheeks and I could feel him staring at what he’d just exposed. After all our time together, I still blushed. Everything about Cassius was so intense.
“Will you always love me?” I asked, the words escaping my mouth before I could stop them. The question sounded so needy…so…human. I regretted asking it the second it left my mouth. Unable to stop myself, I tensed nervously while waiting for Cassius’ reaction.
He drove his cock inside of me with one forceful thrust. “I’ll always want you,” he whispered against my ear. “You’ll always belong to me.”
The memories still had the power to hurt me. I thought of how I’d scoffed at Cassius’ concerns that I’d ever try to leave him. Why would I leave? I loved him, craved his touch above all others, and lived only to pleasure him. I thought our time together would last forever. I was wrong.