Sleeping Arrangements
Vincent wanted to throttle the girl. He moaned and rubbed a hand over his face, blinking his eyes repeatedly. For most of the day he'd been in and out of consciousness. At least he was no longer seeing random colors, for a time Evelyn's face had been lavender.
Evelyn thankfully kept quiet, popping out of the cottage whenever he came too. At least the woman was intelligent enough to make herself scarce after accidentally drugging him.
It seemed he just couldn't win as of late.
The door opened with a bang, letting in a brisk cold breeze. Evelyn stumbled inside, her arms laden with firewood. She kicked the door shut with a grunt, nearly falling over backwards. Vincent shook his head as he watched her struggle. The girl was the definition of clumsy. It amazed him that she had managed to survive on her own at all.
Dumping the wood by the stove she straightened, her thick glasses sitting crookedly on her nose and long strands of hair falling over her face. His inner wolf found it oddly endearing, while the man in him scowled with annoyance.
Hurriedly she tried to right herself, blushing as she noticed he was watching her. He found her discomfort oddly pleasing. His wolf did as well, giving an appreciative growl.
Running his tongue over a fang he continued to stare as Evelyn brushed snow off her coat and hung the wet garment up by the door. She then proceeded to kick off her boots, sighing with relief. The woman apparently could not stand to wear shoes.
She was just so odd. She was also pointedly ignoring him.
When the girl began stacking firewood without acknowledging his presence Vincent just about had enough. "Are you always like this?" he asked grumpily. Evelyn blinked up at him, clearly confused. He had to admit her silver eyes were stunning, which irritated him further. "Answer me when I talk to you, girl," he demanded harshly.
"I don't understand the question," she murmured, clearly embarrassed.
"Forget it," he grumbled. "Bring me some water. And no drugging me this time." She remained were she was, her brows raised over her glasses. He glared at her and snapped, "Are you daft?"
"No. I'm just waiting for you to ask nicely." She sniffed, hitching up her chin.
He had to resist the sudden urge to laugh. The girl confounded him, one minute shy and timid the next fiery and defiant. "Please." The forced word was little more than a growl.
She rolled her eyes. The woman actually rolled her goddamn eyes at him! She obviously had no experience with one of his kind.
Throwing her hands up in obvious frustration she fetched him a glass of water. He waited patiently as she walked over to him, a predator ready to pounce. When she was within reach he moved fast, grabbing her arm and yanking her roughly down on the bed. The glass smashed to the floor as she gave a cry of surprise. She landed over his lap on her stomach, her long blonde tresses spreading out around her.
Wrapping a thick braid of her hair around his fist he growled down at her. "Let me make something clear to you, girl. I am a dominant werewolf. You understand what that means do you not?" She shook her head against the bedding, her body trembling. His inner wolf felt a sharp stab of pleasure at the sight. "It means my wolf demands respect," he rumbled. "You would do well to remember that. Do you understand?"
She nodded into the blankets. Her scent struck him, tinged with arousal.
Fuck!
Such a submissive creature. And so damn responsive.
With a snarl he hardened beneath her. He could fist that hair and pin her down, take her little body hard and fast. Her full backside was displayed perfectly, the fabric of her thin dress clinging to her curves.
Unable to resist his hand stroked up her thigh, palming the curve of her ass. She gave a little whimper, wiggling beneath him. The sight pleased him to no end. "Answer me," he commanded gruffly.
"I understand," she whispered.
Squeezing his hand he grated, "Good girl."
Evelyn moaned, her hips moving in the most seductive way, rubbing up against his cock. He leaned his head back, shutting his eyes briefly as he palmed her ass, reveling in the feel of her.
How the fuck was this mystic halfling a damn virgin? Was she waiting for her true mate? Did mystics have mates?
"Why are you a virgin?" his gravelly voice grated.
She stiffened and he felt, scented, her arousal dissipate. "What do you mean?"
Vincent bared his fangs. "You know damn well what I mean."
Evelyn hesitated, her hands curling into the blankets. "You said it yourself," she mumbled, "I'm not pretty." A sob caught in her throat.
Shit!
He felt guilt almost instantly which angered him more. His wolf now demanded he comfort. The man in him felt irritation at her obvious distress. The conflicting emotions were making his head spin. His wolf was still too weak to speak, but he knew if it could it would be chiding him.
Damn it, the girl was nothing more than a tool for him to use. He shouldn't give two shits about her feelings.
He sighed. "Evelyn?"
She stayed were she was, her shoulders shaking as she cried against the blankets. Vincent raised his eyes to the ceiling and prayed for patience. This was why he had no tolerance for weak females. He preferred a woman with power and tenacity.
His inner wolf however was beside itself with the need to comfort. He shook his head, trying to think clearly. He was still partially drugged and he was being torn in too many directions emotionally.
Why did the girl have to be so damn sensitive? Why couldn't he have been saved by a strong warrior? One he could utilize.
Seeking a powerful female to claim as his own went against all of his baser instincts. Similar to vampires, werewolves had predetermined mates; one his inner wolf would recognize and demand he claim. As a potential alpha his wolf sought a soft submissive mate, one that would care for a pack and become his queen. Even after his short time with Evelyn he knew she would make the perfect wolf queen. The total opposite of a strong alpha who demanded absolute loyalty and obedience.
If he was ever to accomplish his goals he could not waste time on seeking his fated mate. Moreover, he most certainly should not be comparing Evelyn to a wolf queen.
He wanted power. He wanted to rule, to be the ultimate alpha, and part of accomplishing his goals was claiming a strong influential female. He'd thought he'd found that in the elven halfling. Unbeknownst to the she-elf, the halfling was the direct decedent of the deceased elven queen, therefore granting her full control over the elven realm and their army. Claiming such a woman would have not only granted him the title of Elven King, but would have provided him with an entire army of elven warriors.
However, he'd failed to obtain her. In addition, he'd made a nearly fatal mistake in seeking aid from Gabriel the Mad One. Due to his failure he was now on the Legions hit list.
What was worse the wretched she-elf belonged to the Demon King, Sebastian the Vanquisher! The berserker demon was well known for his brutality against his enemies.
He snarled. Why must he be fated to fail at every turn?
Suddenly exhausted, he decided not to fight his inner instincts. Relaxing he ran his hands over Evelyn's back soothingly. "Evelyn? Sit up...please."
After a moment she stirred. Sitting up she pulled her long hair out of her face and wiped at her cheeks. She was no longer shaking, but her head was bowed, as if she were afraid to look at him.
Gently he stroked her hair, stunned by how soft it was. It glowed softly, creating an almost halo like effect. "Evelyn, don't cry."
"You're a brute," she whispered.
He couldn't deny it. "You frustrate me. I'm not used to dealing with women like you," he confessed. He supposed it was a poor apology but he'd never been good at such things to begin with. "I'm not an easy man to deal with. And I've been through...some things..."
She raised her head slightly and sniffed, her eyes watery behind her glasses "What do you mean 'women like me'?"
Vincent exhaled, shoving his hair out of his face. "You're just so..." he broke off, trying to think of an appropriate word that wouldn't offend the girl, "...soft," he finally murmured, gently stroking his thumb over her chin.
She glanced away from him shyly. "You didn't have to scare me like that."
"I know." Twirling the soft strands of her hair around his fingers absently Vincent sighed. Her hair really was beautiful, the long blonde locks like silk between his fingers. He should have known better. The girl had already been frightened by the fact that he'd been Legion.
Vincent decided to avoid telling her he was also a hunter. Unlike mercenaries, who killed for the money, hunters killed for the glory of it - the stronger the target the higher the fame. He had a feeling that information would not sit well with Evelyn.
"You're such a soft little thing, angelas," he murmured.
She blushed deeply and bit her lip. "That's the second time you've called me angel."
He raised his brows. "It is?"
"When you first arrived you called me angel too."
"Did I?" Scratching at his beard he tried to remember. "I was in a bad state."
"I know." She tugged at her dress. "And I'm sorry I drugged you. It really was a mistake."
He felt himself soften further, despite himself. "You did well caring for me."
Smiling, she shrugged. "Thank you."
"You're rather a disaster," he admitted, his tone in no way insulting. Before he could stop himself he reached forward, slipping her glasses off her nose and drying them carefully on the bedding before placing them back on. She drew in a soft breath, her pink cheeks turning an even brighter shade. He had the very strong urge to pull her onto his lap.
"I should clean this," she muttered, jumping up suddenly and walking carefully around the broken shards of glass.
Vincent gave an inward shake. "I'll do it." He got up with a grunt, wrapping a blanket around his waist so as not to shock the girl any further.
She gasped, "You don't have too!"
"It's my fault it's broken." He gave her a stern look. "Besides, knowing you, you'll slip and cut yourself." She didn't argue, glancing bashfully at her feet. Vincent shook his head and cleaned up the broken glass. Just that small task left him exhausted. Slumping back down into the bed he struggled to catch his breath.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly. She walked over to him, tucking the blankets around him almost motherly.
"I'm fine." He wiped a hand over his brow. He hated appearing weak in front of her.
"It's late. You should rest"
He bit back a snarl. He didn't want to rest. He wanted to fuck. Her.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Spots filled his vision, flickering with the colors of the rainbow. Damn it, he was still under the effects of whatever the hell she'd given him.
With a groan he fell back on the bed and shut his eyes.
******
Eve watched Vincent as he lay on the bad. Even with his eyes shut he looked pissed.
The man completely threw her off. She had no experience to fall back on when it came to dealing with his moods or aggressive behavior.
Biting her lip she gazed at him from under her lashes. He was so ruggedly handsome, his nose straight and narrow. His thick beard was wild and masculine under his high cheek bones. She found herself itching to touch it.
The werewolf frightened her, but to her acute embarrassment he also aroused her. And he knew it!
When he'd pinned her down on the bed....her heart had never beat so fast. Her lustful reaction was shocking. She still ached.
Swallowing, Eve ran a hand over her mouth. This was crazy. She just need a good night's sleep. The last couple days had been rough to say the least. On top of that she'd spent the night sleeping awkwardly in a hard chair. Her exhausted body was already demanding she lay down in her bed and sleep.
Her eyes widened with realization. She looked over at the bed and felt her cheeks heat. Where was she going to sleep? Beside her bed she only had a couple of armchairs, and they would hardly provide a comfortable night's sleep.
Shifting on her feet she stared at the bed, torn.
Vincent sighed, asking tiredly with eyes still shut, "What's the matter, girl?"
"I was just..." She cleared her throat as her voice cracked. "Uh...I was just trying to figure out where on the floor I would be sleeping."
Opening his eyes he scowled at her. "You're not sleeping on the floor, Evelyn."
"Where else am I going to sleep?" she asked stupidly. Surely he didn't expect...
"In the bed where you belong," he stated as if it were obvious.
"I can't sleep with you!" she blurted, shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.
One dark brow arched as he surveyed her. "And why not?"
"Because!"
"That is not a reason, Evelyn," he drawled with slight annoyance.
"Y-you...you're naked for one!" she stammered.
"And you will be clothed. And unless you plan on touching me I don't see how my state of dress matters." He smirked at her and cocked his head slightly. "Do you plan on touching me?"
"No!" She swore her face couldn't get any hotter. She hated how he befuddled her so easily.
With a grunt he moved over, creating space on the bed before lying down and closing his eyes. "I'm exhausted, and so are you. You need a good night's sleep." Eve gaped at him, frozen in place. She was not going to sleep in the same bed as this wolf. He gave a low growl before snapping, "Come to bed. Now."
Jumping at his tone she hurried to obey. Blowing out the lanterns and candles she made her way nervously to the bed. Placing her glasses on the bureau she wound her hair up into a bun and pinned it to the top of her head. Vincent didn't stir as she anxiously worried her bottom lip. She didn't really have night clothes. She'd always been alone so there had never been a need.
Slipping off her dress and bra Eve changed into a soft camisole. Climbing into the bed she tried to stop her body from shaking violently, pulling the blankets up tight around her chin.
After a moment of lying in the darkness with her trembling and struggling to breathe she heard Vincent sigh. "Relax. I'm not going to ravish you while you sleep."
She blushed and stammered, "I wasn't...I didn't think that..."
He snorted beside her and rolled over, putting his back to her and dismissing her completely. She felt a sharp stab of disappointment and immediately chastised herself for it. She did not want a man like Vincent Shaw.
Plus, there is no way in hell he's attracted to you, dummy.
She could only imagine the type of woman Vincent had courted. They would have been beautiful, confident, and experienced. If he'd passed her on the street he wouldn't have given her a second glance.
Rolling onto her side Eve buried her head under the covers. Thankfully her body was too exhausted for her to dwell on her thoughts any further. She could feel the heat off the wolfs body and it helped her to relax further.
With a yawn she shut her eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.