“Was it the best idea to tell every vampire in the city that you are a murderous criminal?”
Henry asked the question when they were in the car on the way home. It was close to midnight, and the court had been generally successful after the false start.
“A murderous criminal with a pack of werewolves at my disposal? Maddox wouldn’t like it, but Maddox isn't here,” Lorien grinned. He was feeling better than he had felt in a long time. He’d taken his place on the throne. He’d felt true power. And he had commanded respect. It had been a long time since his self-esteem had received such a boost.
“I feel like I should spank you,” Henry said, a wry smile on his face.
Lorien smirked. “I might like that.”
“I know you would like that. You’re a bad boy.”
Lorien laughed. They were home now, parked in the underground garage. He turned to Henry. “Thank you for being there for me today, and the others too. I know they did it for you, but I still appreciate it.”
“You really can’t imagine anyone having a fondness for you, can you?” Henry smiled.
“I haven’t given any of them much reason to like me,” Lorien said. “It stands to reason they’d not want to display themselves before a horde of vampires for me.”
“You don't have to give people reasons to like you. Some people will just like you because you’re you.”
“Dim people, maybe,” Lorien said, earning himself a smack around the ear, a gentle one though, not a painfully dominating blow.
“Let’s get you inside,” Henry said.
They got out of the car and made their way toward the door which led to the lowest level of the house. Before they could get there, Henry pressed Lorien back against the wall, looking down into Lorien’s eyes with an intense animal gaze. Lorien’s cock throbbed against the hard lines of Henry’s body.
“I’m proud of you,” Henry said.
Uncommon tears came to Lorien’s eyes. “You are?”
“You stepped up as best you could. You have a lot to be proud of. You’re quite a guy,” Henry continued with the compliments. Lorien was quickly losing the battle against crying.
“Stop it,” he sniffed. “I’m the vampire king. I can’t go home and snivel.”
Henry made a warm chuckling sound and drew Lorien into his embrace. “Of course you can.”
Lorien felt Henry's lips brushing against his. Gently at first, and then with increasing insistence. Their first kiss was slow and sweet and deepened with all the hunger and passion they’d been attempting to fight from the moment they met.
“I want to be inside you,” Henry growled softly into Lorien’s mouth. “Do you want that?”
“Yes,” Lorien breathed back. He wanted it more than he wanted anything. The taste of carnal intimacy he’d experienced in Henry's mouth had left him day dreaming about what more might happen between them.
“Let’s go to bed.”
Henry’s room was next to Will’s. It looked just like Lorien had imagined it would. It was neatly laid out with very little in the way of excess… “mmmpph,” Lorien lost the ability to observe decor as Henry claimed him in another one of those dominant kisses.
They stripped the clothing from one another. Henry’s clothing was never nice because it was always getting torn when he shifted. It tore again now under Lorien’s eager hands. He bared his lover, uncovering a muscular form covered in tattoos and more than a few scars.
“Alphas take damage,” Henry said by way of explanation.
“So do vampires,” Lorien said. When absolutely naked, he bore some scars as well. The one at his neck was already known. Then there were three Luger marks across his chest where the bullets had torn through him.
“War wounds?” Henry reached out, hesitantly.
“I was not a good spy,” Lorien admitted.
“Tell me what happened?” Henry made it a question, and for that reason alone, Lorien answered him.
“I was behind enemy lines, with the Germans when I muddled the words schnitzel and shützen. I told them I was a meat soldier. Might have gotten away with that, but a second later I banged my knee on the desk and cursed in fluent English. Gave myself away in less than two seconds. Then…” he gestured to his chest. “The first time I died.”
Ninety years ago…
Lorien opened his eyes to the moon. He was dreadfully cold, all the way to the very middle of himself. “Is it not done yet? Am I still dying.”
“Oh no, sweet boy. You're coming through the other side.”
At first, he couldn’t see the speaker, but he liked the sound of the man’s voice. It was soothing in a way not many voices had been lately, the harsh guttural staccato of an impromptu German firing squad did little to soothe the nerves. God bless an American accent, even though this one did have a certain foreign lilt.
“The other side of what?” Lorien asked the question but did not receive an answer.