HE'D calmed down enough to not follow through on his rash decision to kill whomever occupied Sansa's bed. But by the way his body was on edge, ready to fly into action at the littlest provocation, Jon knew that the string holding him together was seconds from being snipped, so he paced to distract himself. But there was little distraction to be found, so instead he tried to contain the beast that raged inside of him by putting one foot in front of the other, walking to one side of the room and then back again.

He turned away from the door and headed toward the window, then immediately turned and started back.

Sansa was never going to change. And that was something he had to accept. Let her go.

The door to his bedroom opened, and a silent figure slipped in. Jon stiffened as his head snapped up to confront the unwelcomed presence. His expression darkened as his eyes fell on the intruder. Sansa.

She momentarily faltered at the look he turned on her, before the question in her eyes disappeared behind a blank slate.

"Came here to screw the leftover option?" Resentment laced his words.

"What?" Sansa replied. The innocent mask was back on her face.

"You heard me, Sansa. Get out." He stalked toward the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges as he threw it open for her.

Sansa followed. But instead of leaving, she slammed the door shut and leaned her back against it. Her azure eyes stared at him, clashing with the storm raging in his own. She won the stare off as Jon broke eye contact with her to escape the simultaneous softening of his stance and the swell of jealousy as he imagined some bastard running his hands down her smooth cheeks and devouring her lips.

A heavy silence permeated the room, widening the gulf between them. He turned to feast on the sight of her again, unable to resist her. "How was your play toy?"

Sansa's expression remained blank, then a knowing look settled on her face. "Jonny, that wasn't me you were hearing. That was my taste lacking brother with his charity case of the day; Mar-gaery." Her distaste for the girl was evident in her tone.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Sansa replied. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips. "Did it make you jealous, the thought of me with someone else? You can have me if you want."

Jon swallowed down the gravel clogging his throat. Relief battled with pride which battled with rapidly spreading lust. "I was going to kill him, whoever it was."

"It was no one." Her fingers skimmed the neckline of her teddy.

"Nice outfit." His eyes dropped to the constellation glowing against her lingerie.

Sansa gave a little shrug. "I needed something eye-catching."

Jon backed away as she advanced toward him, desire burning in her eyes, sexual allure swinging from her hips, and a smile curving her lips. "What do you want?" he asked, as his back made contact with his bedroom wall.

"I want you," Sansa whispered. Her eyes were bottomless pits as they stared into him, deep as the sea.

Jon returned the steady stare, holding her gaze long enough to permanently imprint their burning intensity into his mind. Then he closed his eyes, savoring the feelings her words ignited. Me. She wants me.

"I don't believe you." His eyes remained closed, unwilling to allow reality to intrude.

"You should." Her lips brushed his ear.

"Lie." His eyes drew open as he felt her auburn curls running along his skin like silk. His fingers tangled in them, tightening to pull her closer.

"Not this time," she promised.

"What about the next time?"

Her lips parted and time seemed to freeze. A sharp knock sounded on the door, and Sansa turned away as she headed to open it. She smiled widely at Robb who paused in the doorway, his eyes traveling back and forth between the two. Sansa slipped past him and disappeared out of view.

Jon's question hung in the air, the lack of answer and her absence making them grow heavier and heavier until he was flooded with doubt once again.

"I came to check up on you. See if you were alright. Guess I should have come sooner." Robb's eyes were wary, as if expecting a sudden transformation.

Jon pulsed with annoyance and relief at Robb's interruption. "I'm fine." He picked up a sports cap and raised it in Robb's direction. "Cheers."

"Cheers to what?" Robb leaned against the doorpost.

"To screwing old girlfriends," Jon replied.

Robb groaned and left, the door shutting after him.

Jon dropped the carefree act and faced the turmoil raging inside of him. He was uncertain and that didn't sit well with him. It made him edgy which led to him being impulsive. One impulsive vampire was deadly. But two . . . Winter Town would never survive such a bloodbath.