Hidden In Shadows, A Fae and Vampire Romance: Shadow Court Chronicles, Book 1

Chapter 7.2: Sleeping With The Enemy

His body fell back on the bed with such force, it caused her to bounce a little. Either he was as exhausted as he had said, or the man had more muscle mass than she could see. She leaned over his form, her face inches from his. "Not until you answer my questions." She was not being persuaded to stop her questions.

His huge hand covered her face as he gave her a gentle shove to remove her from his face. She wrapped both of her hands around his wrist and held onto him tightly. She didn't fall back onto the bed, but she sat behind his head, glaring defiantly at him.

"I could simply wait until you pass out at ten." The threat was casual, but she could see that he was seriously thinking on the merit of it.

"You could," she agreed. "But I'll only continue to harass you until you answer me. Day and night, I'll question you. This could go on for days," she said, stretching out the word days. "I am just that stubborn."

"Fine," he huffed. "Get under the blankets and I'll tell you a bedtime story."

She scurried to the head of the bed and wiggled under the blankets. She moaned with pleasure at the decadent feel of the combination of silk and fur against her skin. She made a note to get a set like this for her own bed, although if she did, leaving her bed would become extremely difficult. She couldn't see anyone wanting to voluntarily leave a lush bed like this; she certainly didn't want to.

The sound of fabric rustling drew her out of her bubble of pleasure. Holy crap, he was stripping—well, his shirt, but dear gods. Her mouth went dry. She was used to the flawless beauty of the Fae, and Fae were breathtaking, but nothing could have prepared her for him.

Despite being a Nightwalker, his body was still bronzed from the kiss of the sun. His abs, if she ever needed to do laundry by hand, could be used as a washboard. She had been right about his strength; his arms were well defined and bulging. He wasn't flawless but instead, his body was littered with scars. There was a particularly nasty gash scar on his side, as if he had been sliced by a sword, and there were a couple of decent size ones on his arms. As he walked over to the bed, she could make out finer scars on his chest. They were delicate and had been obviously not been made with the intent to kill.

"Are you done staring?"

"Um." She gaped at him. "Yeah."

"Didn't have you pegged as someone who would be bothered by the sight of scars. Then again, I am sure you don't see them often with your kind."

He slipped between the blankets and turned towards her. She got only a passing glance at the long fine scars on his back and just a hint at a black tattoo. Her curiosity was piqued, but she pushed it away. She would ask him about those later. She had more important questions that she wanted to have answered.

"You're right. We don't scar unless it is a life-threatening scar, and even then, it is only faint. Your scars are deeper and rougher, but that isn't why I was staring. You're gorgeous." She stated the words bluntly without any hint of embarrassment. She had been raised in a culture where sex was just sex. There was no shaming of beauty or even the act of passion.

He blinked several times as if he wasn't sure of what he heard. "Thanks?"

She wanted to laugh at his obvious discomfort, but she instead changed the topic to something that would be more comfortable for him. "How did you get the scars?"

"Souvenirs from my mortal days. Are you ready for your bedtime story?" She nodded her head as she wiggled closer to him. "A very long time ago, I was part of the Roman army. The year was 410 A.D., and the British Isles were in chaos. The Roman officials had just been expelled by the people, and the army that remained was scrambling to hide from the rather angry natives."

"I had gone with a few of my closest compatriots to hide in the hills. When night had fallen on us, we were tired, hungry, and scared. I left the camp to scrounge what little food I could find. I wasn't too far from the camp when a man stepped out of the shadows and offered me sanctuary. At first, I was suspicious, and I wanted to go back and gather the rest of my companions. Fast as lightning, he had a hold of me and was pulling me into the shadows as well."

"His name was Ducan, and he held me until I had more magic running through my veins than I did blood. When he realized I was no longer of any use to him, he let me go. I was one of the first to become a Nightwalker and a few of us gathered together to stumble through a civilization that had changed radically."

He was so much older than she had expected. He had been around for the beginning of her court. "How long were you with him?"

"I was with him until 1921."

That was over 1,400 years living as a slave. She could understand why he had hated her kind like he did. That was a long time to have your freedom stripped from you. To be tossed out to fumble in a world that was no longer familiar to you was cruel. Then again, most Fae looked down on humans. He was proof that not all humans were weak creatures. Where most would have died after being thrown into the unknown, he had lived and more importantly, he had thrived. She knew without a doubt that his skills with magic were on par with that of the Fae.

"I'm amazed. No wonder you are so strong."

"There are others who are stronger, and I still carry a slight compulsion to obey the Shadow Court. Now I have answered your questions. It is time to sleep."

"But I'm not tired." She was lying through her teeth. She was struggling to keep her eyes open. His voice and presence had lulled her into feeling safe.

"You're a horrible liar. Come on, turn around."

She wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes, combined with her exhaustion, had her flipping to her side without an argument. She was shocked when he slipped an arm around her waist and curled his body around hers. She was amazed at how well she fit in his arms. The warmth and the feel of his body felt so right against hers, more right than anyone else in her lifetime.

"Go to sleep, Lyssandra," his voice rumbled into her ear.

"What time is it?" Her words were so slurred that she sounded like a drunk.

"Ten o'clock." She heard him say and then it was lights out for her.  

~~~

The next part will be released on Friday March 11, 2016. If you want to read the whole book NOW Absolutely FREE. Just visit here http://hotromancestory.com/scc1-free-book-wp/ To grab your free copy of this book today.