Page 7 of Plug and Drain

He was almost certain it was a female.

Perfect.

She no doubt didn’t expect a visitor at this late hour—or early hour, given that it was nearly sunrise.

He would surprise her.

The sound of a sharp intake of air from behind the door that made his muscles tense, and his vision sharpened as he focused on the door. That was when he realised that it was ever so slightly ajar.

Arken frowned. He could have sworn he’d seen movement in the room’s dark depths. Was the wolf inside expecting company?

Or perhaps she’s already had visitors. Perhaps, she is servicing them right now.

Arken clicked his tongue. He did not fancy sharing a wolf. It was too complicated. He preferred having his partners to himself, so he could enjoy them the way he liked, and better gauge what they liked. Emotions became difficult to make sense of when there were more people present.

He wasn’t the jealous type, but when it came down to it, he was a little possessive. With no possessions to speak of, it was probably irrelevant.

With that in mind, Arken pivoted to face the door to his left. He knocked.

The door opened a fraction.

As Arken opened his mouth to speak, he got a brief glimpse of a female wolf’s frightened amber eyes before the door snapped shut.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but that did not deter him. There was a nervousness there that did not sit well with him, but that made it a logical choice; whoever lay beyond that door would no doubt let him inside, and would be incapable of resisting his advances.

She might even thank him afterwards. He would be good to her.

An easy feed, and an easy fuck.

It wasn’t exciting, but few things in his life excited him anymore.

Arken knocked again.

Chapter 3

Unwilling Sacrifice

Arken

No sooner had Arken knocked than a voice cried out behind him.

“Stop!”

Eyebrows raised, he turned back to the partially open door. It was now wide open, and a female shifter stood in the doorway looking at him. She had a determined set to her jaw and a wide stance that contrasted her fearful amber eyes. She was fully clothed in flannel pyjamas, and her strawberry-blonde hair swung over one shoulder in a loose messy plait.

“Headmaster!” she exclaimed, her voice urgent but steady. “Please. Stop.”

“Stop?” Arken tilted his head at her, blinking politely as he wondered what to make of her. Her tone reminded him of smooth satin, bright and soft as it quietly rustled over skin. He liked the word ‘please’ from her lips almost as much as he liked the word ‘stop’. It was a long time since anyone had dared tell him to stop, a fact that had always bothered him. He considered himself an approachable person at the best of times, and rarely punished anyone, except when he was exceptionally grouchy from a hangover.

“Don’t go in there,” she said breathlessly.

“Why not?”

“Just…don’t. Please.”

There was the perfect word again, and Arken absorbed its warmth like sunshine. He was a natural born vampire, born to vampire parents, and he tolerated the sun perfectly well, except when—as he often was of late—hungover.

But not tonight. He was sober tonight, even if he did sway slightly on his feet, and as he studied the female wolf standing before him, he was suddenly glad of that. Perhaps it was the blood loss, but he thought her very pretty.