The cave was empty, except for a dark wooden coffin and an unconscious woman sprawled beside it. She had long brown hair and long limbs and when she woke, she hardly seemed surprised at the situation.
But that didn't mean that Elena wasn't afraid.
It was remarkable that no matter how many dangerous situations she had been in, the fear never faded. It never really became normal.
The sun was setting outside, and she realized with an extra jolt of fear that it was a full moon tonight. Assuming she had only been unconscious for less than a day. Which, with her luck, was probably the case.
She only hesitated a moment before opening the coffin and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Elijah's daggered body. He was the best-case scenario of anyone in a coffin like that.
The handle of the dagger glinted in the low light, as though winking at her.
Werewolves did not tend to go after humans specifically. If she laid low, they probably would leave her alone. Having a vampire around would make them more likely to come near. But Elijah would protect her from them should it come to that.
She weighed her options. She could just leave him here and find a safer place to hide out. He wouldn't even be in any danger.
But, then again, there could be more than just werewolves out when the sun set. It wouldn't hurt to have an Original vampire who had given his word to protect her at her side.
Elena glanced out the entrance of the cave, where she could just see the moon above the trees. A twig snapped and she jumped.
She turned back to the coffin, grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled it out of Elijah's chest.
It would take him a bit to fully wake up, she remembered, wishing she had come to a decision sooner. It was nearly fully dark now and she knew the moon would reach its apex soon. But there was nothing more to be done, so she sat down on a rock and waited.
About fifteen minutes later, she heard Elijah gasp and jumped up and rushed to his side.
"Elijah?" she asked.
He slowly sat up, skin still mottled and gray.
Elijah could smell her blood immediately and knew it showed on his face by the way she pulled back from him.
"Where are we?" he asked, voice scraping painfully.
"A forest," Elena said with a shrug. "I'm not sure where. But it's a full moon, so…" Her eyes flicked to the cave opening. She was afraid; he could hear her heart racing.
"So we should get you in fighting shape," she continued, holding out her wrist to him.
"That is quite alright," he lied, tearing his eyes away from the veins beneath the delicate skin of her wrist. "I'm sure there are creatures–"
"I don't mind," Elena insisted, moving her arm closer.
Elijah's hand grabbed her forearm tightly and brought her wrist up to his mouth. He looked at her as he bared his fangs and bit into her skin. She winced though she hardly felt the pain, hardly blinking as his eyes pierced into hers.
It was less than a minute later when he pulled away reluctantly. Doppelganger blood had always been a favourite of his, but hers was just a bit sweeter. Perhaps it was her youth, he thought, not without some shame at that idea.
Elena pulled her arm away, about to stem the bleeding with her other hand, but Elijah stopped her. He bit into his own wrist, breaking the skin and then putting it into her other hand.
"Your blood will lead them straight to us," he said simply.
Elena nodded and tore her eyes away from his face as she lowered her mouth to the wound. Her tongue prodded lightly at the ragged torn skin. He looked down at her as she began to suck out the blood, eyes closed.
It was rare that Elijah ever allowed anyone to feed from him. It had likely been decades since the last time. Perhaps that was why a shiver washed over his skin with every ministration from her mouth. His hand came down on her head, gently stroking her hair until she was done, her skin knitted back together as though his teeth had never torn into it. But when she looked back up at him, his focus was elsewhere. His own wound healed rapidly as he did up the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt.
But he looked back just as she lifted her hand to swipe his blood from her mouth. His eyes followed the motion raptly and then again looked her in the eye.
"Stay here," he said. "I shall do some reconnaissance." And then he was gone in the blink of an eye.
Elena stood motionless, skin tingling, feeling as though something had shifted between them, though she wasn't sure what. Or how.
Then a howl pierced the air and her thoughts snapped back to the situation at hand. Or, at least, the more urgent of the situations at hand.
She ventured to the mouth of the cave, wishing she knew where Elijah had disappeared to. The woods were dark and deep. A nagging fear in the back of her mind told her he could have left her behind. But he had promised to keep her safe, and he had a reputation for keeping his promises.
She heard crashing brush somewhere in the distance and then a wolfish yelp. And then Elijah stood before her, hair slightly unkempt and three deep gashes in his chest oozing blood. He seemed rather unfazed, if a bit pale.
"Are you alright?" she asked as he stepped back into the relative safety of the cave. "You didn't get bit, did you?"
"Werewolf venom is not deadly to me, just… unpleasant," he said. "But no, I was not bitten."
She followed him, trying not to feel like a clingy, cloying child. "That'll heal faster if you–"
"Elena," he said, turning around to face her. "There are many compellable humans outside I can drink from. Your offer, though appreciated, is–"
"Then accept it," Elena said, brushing her hair back to bare her neck. She did not intend it as a seductive move, but his eyes darkened in more than just bloodlust as she tilted her head slightly to the side. "I don't mind."
He moved a step toward her. Then another. He threaded the fingers of one hand into her hair, a gentle but firm grip with which he tugged her head further to the side, exposing her neck more.
Elena just caught a glimpse of his hungry eyes before she felt his hot breath on her neck and her eyes fluttered closed. She let out a small gasp when his fangs pierced her soft skin. His grip on her hair tightened as he drew the blood out of her. She was just thinking how he seemed to drink blood in the same dignified, controlled way he did everything else when he snarled softly. His other hand came down to grab her waist as he drank deeply, almost ferally, from her. Elena heard herself let out a small sound that definitely was not one of pain.
Elijah stepped back suddenly, letting go of her so abruptly, she lost her balance and nearly fell. His chest rose and fell heavily and he scrabbled for the handkerchief in his pocket to wipe at the blood around his mouth.
Blood trickled from the wound in her neck, pooling in her collarbone and staining her shirt. What a waste, he thought. Her lips were parted, and she panted slightly. Elijah swallowed, the taste of her overwhelming in his mouth, and looked away from her.
"Are you sure that was enough?" she asked, voice small and – was he deluding himself? – hopeful. "Cause you can…"
"I shouldn't," he said, stuffing the blood-stained handkerchief back in his pocket, knowing the temptation to keep it in its soiled state would be shamefully strong.
Elena had never wanted someone to drink her blood so badly. She had never really wanted anyone to drink her blood at all. But something about the way he had held her, the way his fangs had pierced her, the way he had consumed her, made her step forward and ask: "Why not?"
Elena was a human full of surprises, but Elijah liked to think that he rarely underestimated her. But now, he realized that he had done what so many others had done: assumed she was too good, too pure to desire something like this.
But here she stood, eyes wanting, the scent of her blood overpowering, all but asking him to… feed on her? More, perhaps?
"Elena," he said, self-control fraying with each passing second.
"Elijah," she said, not shying from his gaze now.
He let out a long breath, watching a trickle of blood run down between her breasts, disappearing into her shirt. Then, in one fluid motion, pressed her against the rough stone wall and resumed his indulgence in her ambrosial blood.
And there was no waste.
Elijah ran his tongue over her collarbone, swallowing the blood that had collected there. Then he stemmed the flow at her neck with his mouth, gorging himself directly from the vein. She whimpered softly, hands gripping his suit jacket tightly.
Then he followed the scarlet trail down her chest, prepared to tear open her shirt until he reached the end of it. But Elena was already pulling her arms out of the sleeves and tugging it down, the wide collar sliding down her body easily. The stream of blood had almost reached her navel and he crouched slightly to lick a stripe up her abdomen – undid her bra with a quick experienced motion – and between her breasts to her neck again.
Elena was starting to feel lightheaded – though from the blood loss or everything else, she was not sure. Elijah's mouth was everywhere, drinking from her, moving over her body to get the last drops that had run down it. She was so used to restrained, composed Elijah that seeing him like this – feeling him like this – was like seeing a different person. But then he looked up at her, eyes dark and focused, and she knew that Elijah was all a façade. This Elijah, who drank from her like a desert wanderer, was the unadulterated, unmasked Elijah.
"It's nice to meet you," she murmured.
Elijah's eyes flickered over her face – her slightly unfocused eyes, her pale skin – and quickly bit into his wrist. He held it up to her mouth and she drank greedily. Almost immediately, her head began to clear and the wound at her neck began to close up.
"I would prefer you conscious for this," he said softly.
"Prefer?" Elena demanded.
He smiled and kissed her, hands gripping her waist. He kissed her in a way that made her think of The Fallen Angel by Cabanel, of Geefs' Génie du mal. Painted madness, sculpted chained rage. Passion and brutality as portrayed in nineteenth-century religious art. He had pulled his fetters loose, a disgraced spirit on the prowl. He bit into her lip until he drew blood, then sucked it into his mouth, fangs still poking against the soft tissue.
Then Elijah moved his mouth down her jaw, fangs scraping against her skin, followed by his soothing lips. He bit into the other side of her neck, expertly piercing the skin at a spot where he knew the blood would not flow too heavily. His hands, large and firm, slid up her sides, thumbs coming up under her breasts and resting there. He pulled away from her neck, allowing a small trickle to flow down her chest. He watched as it flowed just past her nipple and down her stomach.
Again, he began at the bottom of the bloody path and slowly lapped up the blood from her skin. Elena almost thought he would just lick up the blood and continue feeding from her, that that was all he wanted, but then his mouth closed around her nipple. Her head fell back against the cave wall as he sucked, first gently, then firmly, and then with a hint of sharp teeth. She glanced down just in time to see him looking up at her and her knees buckled slightly at the sight. His mouth, his eyes sharp and wanting.
He let more blood run down her chest. He even bit on the other side of her neck and let that run too. He followed the trails the blood made over her skin with an intent gaze. But he never let it run too far down that it would be absorbed by her shorts or fall to the ground. He did not waste a drop.
Elena watched him curiously, fascinated by the combination of bloodlust and careful concentration on his face. While a part of her did want him to get on with it, she also wanted to see what he was doing.
His lips and tongue went over every inch of her body from the waist up, front and back, cleaning the blood that ran down.
When his fingers reached for the waistband of her shorts, he looked up at her face. She nodded quickly, trying to help him with the button and fly, but he brushed her hands away and did it himself. He pushed them over her hips and let them and her panties fall to the ground. Then, in a move that nearly did it for Elena right then and there, he swiped two fingers through the blood that continued to flow over her body and slid them between her folds. The lubrication from the blood was unnecessary but just the idea of it had her panting.
Elijah's fingers moved between her legs, mixing her blood with the wetness that was already there. He found the sensitive nerves at the apex of her thighs easily, making her shiver and buck her hips into his hand. Elena threw her arms around his neck in an attempt to keep her footing, fingers tangling in his hair as his ministrations continued. He slid his fingers up and down, circling, ever circling. She tried to move her hips to get him where she wanted him, but he pressed her hips firmly against the wall with his free hand.
He reached up for more blood, coating his fingers in it, before pressing one finger inside her. God, he had thick fingers. Elena moaned, arching her back, barely able to support her weight. Elijah noticed this and when Elena blinked again, she was lying on top of the coffin lid with Elijah straddling her legs.
She moved her hips again, wanting more of him, and he quickly acquiesced with a second finger. His thumb he rubbed against the nerves that were growing ever tighter as his fingers pumped in and out of her.
Then, as she was about to tumble over the edge, he leaned down and sucked at her neck again. He drank her blood as she came, fingers still moving steadily inside her. She pulled his face up to her mouth, kissing him and tasting her blood on his lips. He pulled his fingers out of her and traced a path up her abdomen to her neck. And then he followed that path with his mouth, that path of wet and blood.
Elena reached for the buckle on his belt, and he let her undo it, then helped with the button and straining fly. Then she grabbed his arm, rubbing a thumb over the soft skin of his inner wrist. He bit into it and held it out to her immediately, but instead of drinking from it, she covered it with her hand. When her hand was coated in his blood, she pulled him out of his pants and stroked him, leaving a bloody mess behind.
He groaned, unable to hold in his reaction. She stroked him a few more times and then positioned her hips just so. He bit into his wrist again and let blood trickle down on both of them, between their legs, before he pressed inside her.
It was vulgar and obscene. Rarely did Elijah let himself indulge in such profane pleasures. He thrust into her, aided by their combined blood and combined wetness. Her chest and abdomen likewise covered in spiderweb trails of blood. And she looked up at him with thirsting eyes and a partially open mouth that breathed obscenities and pleas. She was delectable.
So soon after her own orgasm, she felt so sensitive it was almost painful to have him inside her. But the way he looked down at her, the way he gripped her tightly, she could never refuse that. She would never want to. He was still almost fully clothed, and she was almost entirely naked, a contrast she liked – and decided not to think too much about. She gripped the edge of the coffin as he drove into her, relishing his hungry gaze.
There would be bruises on her skin tomorrow if she did not drink his blood to heal herself, which she did not want to do. She wanted those signs, to see them later so she knew she did not dream this. Did not dream up Elijah's broad body over her, his groan when he came, his teeth drawing blood from whatever part of her body he could reach. He drank from her waist, from her breasts, and from her thighs. He pressed his mouth between her legs, still determined not to waste a drop of her blood.
But he insisted that she drink his blood. She knew he did not want her going back with fang puncture wounds all over her body. It would hardly encourage trust in him as an ally. She knew that he would pretend this had never happened once they made it back home.
At least, she assumed he would. But she hoped he would not.
Elena watched her wounds heal with a slight sense of loss. She sat on the coffin as Elijah picked up her clothes and handed them to her.
"You should sleep," he said as she got dressed. "I will keep watch."
She looked around the cave and Elijah said with a wry smile, "The coffin is actually quite comfortable. Though I understand if you would rather not sleep in it."
It did look quite nicely padded. "As long as you promise not to close the lid," Elena said.
"I give you my word," he said, eyes soft.
Elena managed a small smile. She knew she could trust his word.