This is a shorter scene today, and a scarier one for me to send to you (and the last scene was hard to send because of all of the smexy stuff! lol). But this gets into Jared's brain more, and since I'm a pantser (I don't have detailed plots before I write; just a general idea of where I want to go and some snippets of scenes in my head), I never know if things are going to remain the same by the time I finish a porject.
So here's my usual rough draft warning with a big THIS MIGHT ALL CHANGE added onto it. :-)
Hope you enjoy it! To read all the scenes I've emailed so far, click here.
Nora and Jared #3
Jared felt shock and horror move through Nora’s aura. He would be lying if he said he did not enjoy it—if he said he had not enjoyed all of it—and that small emotion from him was unexpected. He had come to Swirl to feed, not to fuck.
In the shadows, he muted his aura to a faint nothing. The werewolf lingered, staring long enough for him to wonder if she still sensed him.
No. She was composing herself, taking a moment to make sure her clothes were straightened, her hair neat, her expression cool and calm again. She left, undoubtedly returning to her friends. He wondered if she would return to her pack soon afterward, or if she would wait until his scent faded from her body.
He would not mind renewing it. That was another surprise, that wanting. He had not been with a woman in a long time. Self deprivation had become his torture of choice. It pleased his master, and as long as Jared did not feel, Arcuro did not sense any opposition. It was better that way. The tasks Arcuro gave him were not as abominable as they would otherwise be.
“My lord?” A head peeked inside the back door.
Jared let his aura expand. “I am here.”
Deagan’s relief was immediate. His scion had shed his traditional longcoat and wore only his white ruffled shirt and once-fashionable brown trousers. His deceptively harmless gaze took in Jared, and a frown marred his usually jovial face.
“You have not fed.” The displeasure in Deagan’s voice was obvious, almost chiding.
Blood was another thing he deprived himself of. He had stopped feeding from vampires months ago, surviving only on the occasional human. Vampires were sustenance. They gave him more power and strength than feeding from a human, and the older their blood, the more power he obtained. But only Arcuro was ancient enough to sate him now, and the thought of taking from his master again made him want to greet the sun.
“I am content,” Jared said, and he was surprised when those words rang true.
Nora had been an extraordinary diversion. He had been eyeing the vein of a brunette at the bar when he had scented her blood in the air. He had been compelled to find its source, and when he observed her sitting at the table with her friends, he had instantly known who she was: Nora Lehr, the natural born daughter of Octavian Lehr, alpha of the Appalachian pack and his master’s adversary.
Deagan inhaled when Jared reached the door, undoubtedly scenting werewolf and sex.
“I see,” Deagan said, his tone much more upbeat than before. He launched into a description of his night, embellished of course, to see if he could get a reaction from his master.
Jared tried to listen as they walked down the lamp lit street, but his thoughts circled back to Nora, to the way she felt when she was beneath him then when she was on top of him, taking what she needed. His partners always focused on his needs. They watched him, trying to discern whether he wanted compliance, resistance, or something else. Nora had not cared what he wanted.
“…rips throughout my coat.” Deagan sounded affronted. “That was one of my favorites, but I must admit it may have been worth it. When the women rescued me, they were very generous with their ministrations…”
Toying with Nora was dangerous. She was lethal on her own, but with the full pack behind her, they would rip him and his vampires apart.
And he had told her his name. That had not been wise. If Lehr discovered Jared had bedded his daughter, he would link the violation to Arcuro, using it as an excuse to go after the master vampire.
Jared lingered on that thought.
“The car is this way, my lord,” Deagan said from behind him. Jared turned. His scion was frowning again, standing in the street and waiting for Jared to cross with him.
“I am okay, Deagan,” he assured his friend. Deagan and Jared’s other vampires were one reason he still lived. Breaking a bond with one’s master was incredibly painful. Not all vampires survived it, and Arcuro had detailed what would be done to Jared’s people should he decide to greet the sun.
“Of course, my lord,” Deagan said.
But if Jared was attacked, if he was killed defending his master, Arcuro might forget his oath. He might take in Jared’s vampires or, better yet, he might release them, allowing them to become an independent clan with either Deagan or another of Jared’s vampires as the new master.
His plan solidified as he crossed the street and sank into the comfortable passenger seat of Deagan’s four-door Porsche. He felt more alive than he had in ages. He would have Nora underneath him again, her nails raking down his chest, her tongue tasting his blood. Lehr would find out, and he was not a forgiving alpha. He would go to war for his daughter.
Jared stared out at the long road ahead. Yes. Nora would be the means to an end, either his end or his master’s.
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