Prophesy 3: His Righteousness by A.E. Via

 

 

Adres removed his hood as he stood in the center of Macauley’s bedroom, not knowing if he should sit, stand… hell, he felt like running all the way to the coast, then getting on any vessel that would take him away from there. But his mind would not let him get more than fifty miles away from the pack lands before the headaches started. Then the longing, and next came the dread, before he began to panic. The other night he’d put up his shields and tried to leave… not for good, but to at least clear his mind, but he’d just crossed the border of the White Mountain Forest before he had to turn Război around.

He’d come to Macauley like he’d asked, unable to deny him, but he wasn’t going to do what he was sure his cherished wanted. Fuck, he wasn’t sure he remembered how to anymore. Vampires didn’t need sex and intimacy; they needed blood, nothing more. However, he was learning that what he’d assumed all of his life may not be true. He’d heard Macauley’s sensual moans when he’d come through the front door, and his cock had immediately taken notice. He hadn’t been so aroused and so often that it made him dizzy and maybe a bit crazy. Adres began to get warm under his heavy cloak and was about to remove it when Macauley opened his bathroom door and stepped out in nothing but a thin towel cinched below his navel.

Elixir dripped from his fangs, and he had to force himself to turn away. Macauley chuckled behind him as Adres went and stood in front of one of the windows with a beautiful view of Mount Osceola. The moon was almost full as it cast a brilliant light over the snowcapped peaks, and Adres could see himself staring out this window just before dawn, before he closed the blinds and buried himself beneath Macauley’s covers to slumber.

If only the gods loved me that much.

Adres gripped the edges of the windowsill for strength, or to keep from ripping Macauley’s towel off. He looked like an alpha and smelled like one too. Like heaven. His masculine soap, coupled with his potent arousal, was making him horny and hungry. Gods he was starving. He hadn’t ached this much since he’d first begun to appreciate the beauty of the night, a young vampire with ample elixir to spread around.

Macauley came up behind him and put his hands on Adres’s shoulders and squeezed, his lips pressed against the back of his skull. His cherished was so tactile, and Adres wondered if he’d be able to accommodate him. He had no idea how to live like a shifter or as part of a mated couple. His feelings confused him, and he couldn’t have articulated them if he’d tried.

“Evening.”

Macauley’s hoarse voice sent a ripple of awareness to Adres’s groin that he tried his best to hide. He sighed in frustration but mostly exhaustion. “I tried to stay away. I tried.”

Macauley pressed himself closer and draped his muscular arms over his shoulders. “You continue to fight me,” he said against the rim of his ear. “All you have to do is give in.”

Adres leaned into the warmth of Macauley’s broad chest, his scent and protectiveness feeling heavier than the cloak he wore.

“Submit to me.” Macauley nudged at the back of Adres’s neck, encouraging him to tilt his head… but he did not. He nipped at his earlobe, growling as if Adres was pissing him off. “You can keep trying to combat me, stubborn mate… hold out… make me wait. What-the-fuck-ever. But you are mine, Adres. I will have you.”

“I will not mate with you, young wolf,” Adres said with conviction, or as much as he could muster. “I will not condemn your animal to insanity.”

Large droplets of cool water dripped from Macauley’s damp hair onto Adres’s cheek and down his throat as he dipped his head lower. “You say that now,” he rumbled matter-of-factly and turned Adres to face him. “I’m a patient man.”

Adres gazed into Macauley’s piercing blue eyes with uncertainty. How could such a gorgeous and remarkable shifter be given to an old, inflexible fool like him? Macauley cupped Adres’s chin and angled his face so they were looking into each other’s eyes. Adres held the connection as Macauley’s gaze roamed his face. He frowned as if something upset him before he grazed his thumb over the long scar across his cheek.

“I don’t know why you look at me that way,” Adres whispered, his body naturally inching closer. He wanted to continue to gawk at the slick hair that spanned across Macauley’s thick pecs, but he couldn’t because of the tight grip on him.

“Because… because you’re so… handsome.” Macauley paused a moment as if considering his answer. “You’re so mature, disciplined… and handsome. I guess I’m wondering why the hell fate paired you with me.”

What the hell kind of vision did Macauley have? Handsome? Adres would’ve laughed if he’d been capable of such things. Instead he wrapped his arms around Macauley’s waist and laid his forehead against his chest. He was so tired he could barely stand, and the energy it was taking to control his hunger was almost draining him. He could hear the blood surging through Macauley’s veins, his heart thudding against his cheek. Adres’s breathing quickened as he began to lose the hold on his restraint. 

“You feel that?” Macauley unfasted the clasp of his shawl and removed it as if it was in his way. Next was his thigh-length overcoat, then his armor. “That’s my wolf responding to your hunger.”

Adres’s throat felt as if he’d swallowed a burning piece of charcoal.

“I’m not concerned about sinking my dick and teeth inside of you.”

Adres’s cock twitched in his thin slacks, and he was humiliated at the slow grin that spread across Macauley’s face.

“At least not right now,” Macauley amended as he clasped his big palm around the back of Adres’s neck and guided him to his throat. “Drink.”

Adres’s knees went weak, but Macauley seemed to hold him up with little effort. “Macauley. That’s not a good idea,” he objected, his voice strangled and croaky from the heat singeing his larynx.

“No. What’s not a good idea is me forcing you to.” Macauley clutched him tighter, rubbing his soft beard against the side of his head and down his temple, bathing him in his scent. “Drink, mate.”

Adres was shaking, and he couldn’t stop it. “I am…” He swallowed roughly, unable to finish. It burned so bad!

“You are what?” Macauley asked, stroking his thumb along Adres’s pulse.

“I am… ravenous.” Adres’s elixir was leaking from his fangs, tangy and sweet on his tongue.

“I can feel it.” Macauley groaned. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want your bite right now.”

Macauley’s dick was nudged against Adres’s abdomen. He could feel the heft of it and the heat of his hot skin through the flimsy towel and his thin cotton pants. Adres had never in his years dropped to his knees before any man, but it was taking all of his might to keep from doing it now. He wanted his cherished’s blood running down his throat and coating his corrupted insides with his goodness. He wanted his cock in his mouth… no, in his ass, while he submitted to the alpha wolf inside him. Thoughts he’d never had before. And though he wanted all of that and more for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Macauley. He’d die first. And that left him in the worst catch-22 in existence. Fate was one mischievous bitch.

“What if I—”

“You won’t.”

“But if I can’t... ”

“My wolf will stop you.”

Adres didn’t like how that sounded, and his face must have shown it.

“It won’t come to that. I promise.” Macauley pushed his energy into him, slow and sexy, as the last of Adres’s reserves crumbled like a rickety bridge. Pure, wholesome sweetness seeped over the sparse, visible pieces of his soul like syrup down a maple tree.

“Unnnh.” Adres didn’t know if he was going to come from Macauley’s power or die from hunger first.

Confidence and trust touched his mind, and then he felt it, Macauley’s presence in his head. He gasped at the wonder that was his beloved. What is… how? He couldn’t communicate with him with words, but it was as if he could read Macauley’s thoughts. Oh gods. His cherished was aroused beyond measure, excited and waiting eagerly for him to bite. His wolf was right there too. Strong and commanding.

Drink, mate.

Adres pressed his tongue against Macauley’s hot skin then opened his mouth over his jugular. Macauley released a soft sigh, their mind connection still holding strong. His fangs dropped until they were touching his bottom lip, and his elixir trickled down Macauley’s shoulder.

“Mmm.” Macauley vibrated against him.

Adres kept his arms around Macauley’s waist, their height putting him in the perfect position so that his face was nestled in the crook of his neck. Macauley inhaled a sharp breath as Adres pierced his skin, pushing his serum first so his beloved would feel nothing but exquisite pleasure as he fed. The first few drops of Macauley’s blood running down his throat made his eyes roll behind his lids. He pushed more elixir as he plunged his teeth in deeper, making Macauley groan. His alpha tilted his head back farther, driving his fingers into Adres’s hair as his scent escalated from aroused to mouthwatering delicious, his pheromones flooding him inside and out.

Adres sucked cautiously. Not only because he wanted to be safe and sure that he wasn’t taking too much, but because he also wanted to savor every drop. He paused his drinking to flick his tongue against Macauley’s clean skin, but he bit into him again as he was pushed back against the wall.

“Fuck. Don’t stop,” Macauley growled.

Adres sucked harder, his dick aiming to break free from the confines of his briefs as Macauley thrust his cock up to meet his. He couldn’t stop if he tried. Macauley’s essence tasted as pure as the fresh falling snow blanketing the mountains. His Siberian shifter blood was bolder and more filling than any ethnic group he’d tasted. And he believed he’d had most if not all. Flavors of earth, pine, and honeysuckle saturated his palate, yet as he continued to drink, it did little to assuage his hunger.