Unleash (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 6) (28 page)

A dead bird.

He huffed and offered it again. He expected her to take it.

Her eyes widened. Mercy, he was re-enacting the night they had first met, only with a difference. He was powerful and experienced enough to capture the owl this time. He unleashed a low feral grunt and glared at her, his crimson eyes narrowing and the pale slashes of his eyebrows coming together.

Aurora took the hint, feeling it was wise not to hurt his feelings and curious about his behaviour. She gingerly walked over to him and took the dead owl, holding it by the very tip of one of its broken wings. Poor thing. She wished she could give it new life but it had been dead too long.

Snow stared at her, red eyes watchful. Waiting.

For praise?

Aurora managed to smile in spite of her nerves, hoping he would think she was proud of him. Very proud. It took a really skilled hunter to kill a defenceless owl. She didn’t let her sarcasm taint her smile. If he saw it, he would probably go in search of something bigger to kill in order to impress her, and bigger around here was either humans or bears.

She didn’t want Snow fighting either of those things.

Snow rose to his full height and puffed his bare chest out.

She smiled properly now, unable to contain it. Somebody liked to have his ego rubbed.

Aurora studied him as he moved through the snow and beckoned her to follow. Was he lost to his bloodlust or not? It was hard for her to tell. His eyes were red, his claws and fangs extended, and speech seemed beyond him.

Yet he was aware of her and who she was, and he wanted to please her.

The wind howled across the valley and Snow was in front of her in a flash. Her heart shot into her mouth again. He didn’t attack her though. In a lightning quick move, his large hand had pressed against her hip and he had guided her behind him. He unleashed a deafening roar into the icy darkness.

He was protecting her.

From what exactly?

He snorted like a beast and sharply turned his head this way and that, scanning the darkness and keeping her behind him the whole time, holding her close to his immense body. She could feel no animals nearby. No threat.

Snow growled, his powerful back and arms rippling with strength and menace. The wind came again, blasting against them, and he tensed and snarled.

Her heart went out to him.

Aurora released the fur she held around her shoulders with one hand and touched his bare back. “It is only the wind, Snow. We are safe.”

He perceived even nature as a threat when lost to his bloodlust, unable to distinguish that it was the wind making that terrible howling sound.

“Snow?” she whispered and stroked his freezing skin. He looked over his shoulder at her and then released her hip and turned to face her. She slipped her hand into his. He was trembling and it wasn’t only from the cold. He feared. He thought the wind was a beast wanting to harm them.

He wanted to protect her and possibly even felt he might fail. He feared for her safety.

He was incredibly gentle as he held her hand, staring down at it with a blank expression on his face.

She took the lead, luring him back towards the cabin and leaving the fur behind in the snow. She had a feeling that if she discarded either his hand or the owl in favour of the fur that Snow would be upset with her, and she didn’t want to push him into a darker rage than the one that gripped him already.

Aurora looked back at him, smiling when he glanced at her and then looked back down at their hands. He blinked, palmed her fingers with his other hand, and frowned.

He wasn’t evil or a threat to anyone when he was like this. Not really. Not anymore. He was more of a threat to himself.

He suffered and struggled to comprehend things that were obvious to everyone else. He thought the weather was a danger to himself and to her.

He felt things though, noble feelings that strengthened her belief that he was in there, trying to master the darkness and drive it back. He had hunted for her because he wanted her to be proud of him, not ashamed. He wanted her to believe him strong and capable, because she had seen him weak and vulnerable.

The wind howled across the valley.

Snow twisted her into his arms, shielding her from it, taking the gust against his back. The moment it had passed, he snatched the dead owl from her and bit into it, holding the carcass in his mouth. He scooped her up, cradling her in his strong arms, and carried her through the snow, long strides devouring the distance to the cabin.

Aurora stared up at him, shocked by his behaviour.

The wind blew again, driving snow across their path and against their bodies.

Snow growled and tightened his grip on her, holding her closer. He snarled whenever the gale blasted across them.

The owl dripped blood all over her white dress but she decided it was unwise to ask him to put her down. He clearly felt an intense need to protect her and she didn’t want to upset him or make him feel he had done something wrong.

She had never seen this side of his bloodlust before.

She had seen him fight it whenever he felt someone at the theatre was in danger, and had believed that it was because he desired to protect them. Now he was protecting her rather than hurting her.

He was deep in his bloodlust, she no longer doubted that, but he was still extremely aware of her, and wanted to keep her safe. Could she get through to him even when he was in this state?

Was this behaviour the result of his containment at Vampirerotique and his efforts to control his bloodlust by using a strict feeding plan?

It was possible, and it was equally probable that he was unaware of his progress because of the course of action he always took when his bloodlust emerged.

Chaining himself whenever his affliction seized control might have had a negative effect, sending him into a deep rage because he felt vulnerable and felt the need to protect himself from others.

It could have concealed this change in him. Her vampire might have more control over himself than he knew.

Snow shouldered the door open and kicked it closed behind them. He spat the owl onto the floor and gently set her down in the main small room of the cabin, but didn’t let her go. He held her at arm’s length and thoroughly checked her over from head to toe.

His grip on her tightened and his gaze froze on her left side.

His crimson eyes darkened and he growled, exposing his fangs.

Aurora looked down and saw the blood on her dress.

He thought it was hers. He thought she was hurt.

His expression twisted, rapidly turning as black as his eyes were, and he snarled and flexed his fingers against her arms.

It changed whenever his gaze flicked to her face, a brighter corona of red pushing through the black in his irises. He looked as though he was either going to go back out into the night to find the culprit and destroy it, or mollycoddle her.

Aurora gasped when he grabbed her dress and yanked it up, exposing her lower half to the chilly air.

He dropped to his knees and she shivered when he placed his hands on her. They were freezing. She tried to get away but he growled and held her firm. His handsome face turned dark and deadly as he shoved her dress up further, evidently seeking the wound.

There were a few spots of blood on her stomach above her left hip. It must have soaked through the layers of her dress.

Snow hesitated, gaze flicking between her stomach and his bloodied hands, and then downwards.

What was he thinking?

He startled her by ripping the lower half of his right trouser leg.

It got stuck on his boot when he tried to pull it off and he fell onto his backside, grappling with it. Eventually he realised he had to take his boot off. He shredded the laces, tore the offending boot off and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall with a hard thud and dropped to the floor. He paused and looked up at her, eyes wide.

She held back her smile. It was sweet of him to want to do something and to ruin his clothes to achieve it. She was curious about what he intended to do with the wet material though.

Her heart melted again when he lowered his head and secretly cleaned his bloodied face with it. He didn’t want to dirty her. She couldn’t contain her smile now. It was more than merely sweet of him to worry about such minor things. It touched her deeply and made her feel loved and precious.

He was gentler this time when he lifted her dress to reveal the spots of blood on her skin. Part of her felt she should tell him that it wasn’t her blood and he didn’t need to do anything for her, and the rest of her told it to shut up and let him do as he wanted with her because it was incredibly endearing to have this powerful male fussing over her even when in the throes of his bloodlust.

He hesitated again, and then leaned in and licked her skin. My. Oh. My. The way his tongue rasped against her set light to the passion in her veins and she blushed, her temperature soaring. Snow licked harder, making her knees quiver and heart stutter.

Disappointment crushed her desire when he sat back and frowned quizzically at her stomach. His eyebrows shot up. His gaze darted to the dead owl.

Busted.

At least in his current state he couldn’t pick her up on it. Speech was definitely beyond him. He knelt before her, his face a picture of innocence, looking up at her. She felt as though he was waiting for her to say something, only she wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear.

Aurora stroked his cheek.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing, and something like a purr rumbled through his chest. She smiled down at him and sneakily rearranged her dress, covering herself before he could notice. His skin was icy cold beneath her fingers.

“Come to the fire,” she said, not holding her breath but hoping he might understand her and do as she bid. “I need to get you warm. Understand?”

He growled when she took her hand away from his face. She smiled at him, hoping to soothe his upset, and held her hands out to him. She backed towards the fireplace.

Snow huffed and effortlessly rose to his feet, the muscles of his bare torso shifting with the action, and obediently followed her. He stopped when she crouched in front of the fire. She placed more logs onto the grate and stoked the flames to get the fire burning hotter. The heat of it warmed her skin and stole the numbness away.

Aurora patted the fur behind her.

Snow plopped himself down.

He didn’t growl at her when she placed a fur around his wide shoulders. She took that as a good sign. He was happy for her to touch him.

She made him hold the fur around himself and set about rubbing his chest, trying to warm his skin. He grabbed her, twisted her around and pulled her onto his lap, sitting her with her back against his front and her bottom pressing against his groin. He snaked his arms around her stomach and settled his chin on her shoulder.

The fur slid off his back.

He huffed, released her and pulled it back up. The moment he held her again, it slid off. Aurora sighed as he repeated this process three more times before he realised that he couldn’t hold her with both arms and keep the warming fur on his back at the same time.

To his credit, he found a way around the problem.

He held the two ends of the large fur and wrapped it around them both, effectively holding her at the same time. It was warm too, cuddly, and she was loath to mention that they couldn’t remain like this. He needed to sleep because she wanted to see if sleeping would help him regain control over his bloodlust.

It was definitely affecting him differently this time.

He knew who she was and was more in control of himself, even though he was still acting more like an animal than a man.

“Snow,” she said and feigned a yawn, feeling it would be the only way to get him to rest too. If he thought she needed to sleep, he would likely want to do the same, remaining close to her. She would wait for him to doze off and then do something about the dead owl that was in a heap across the room, disturbing her.

It wasn’t the most romantic gift to give a woman, but she did appreciate the cavemanesque gesture.

First he had made fire. Then he had hunted for her.

And then he had worn the sweetest nervous look when he had wanted to clean her wound and had feared sullying her.

She smiled again at that and filed it away for bringing up at a later date, when Snow wasn’t in the grip of his bloodlust.

The wind slammed against the cabin. Snow held her closer. She patted his hands to soothe him, glad to feel they were warmer now.

“Will you sleep a while with me?” she said and he grunted and moved just enough that he could lay them down on the furs, proving that he could understand her while lost in his bloodlust. He covered her and pulled her flush against him, his large hand settling over her stomach.

Aurora feigned falling asleep and it wasn’t long before Snow had drifted off, his breath cool but steady against her shoulder.

Even in sleep, he didn’t lessen his grip on her.

She tucked her arm under her head and kept her focus locked on him, monitoring him for a sign that he was experiencing a nightmare. He slept soundly behind her, his big body pressing against her back with each breath.

The fire popped and flickered, throwing warmth over them. She fought off sleep, wanting to stay awake in case Snow needed her.

When the sun began to rise, she gently removed his hand from her stomach and rolled away from him, intending to return to Vampirerotique and see Antoine. She had to confess what she had done and let him know that his brother was safe and well.

Snow grabbed her and dragged her hard against his body.

“Let me go, Snow,” she whispered and it only made him worse. He growled at her, his powerful arms caging her, pinning her back against his front. She wriggled, trying to get him to loosen his hold.

He snarled and sharp pain blazed across her bare right shoulder. Aurora gasped, her breath stolen by the intensity of it. Heat washed through her and fear for Snow followed in its wake as she realised what had happened.