Chapter 4

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"So tell me," she whispered. "How is it you speak in a voice louder than the waterfall? And how is it you flew through the mists to save me as surely as a hawk swooping upon a snake in the meadow?"

"How do you think?" I asked. "I can see you have some notion. Have you been listening to the villagers and their gossip about me?"

She smiled, not a smile of joy, but one of bitterness. "One cannot live among the gossips and not hear their tales. They say you've sold your soul to the devil and made yourself immortal. They say the king isn't even your true father, but rather some distant descendant of yours, passing you off as his son to help keep your secret." She fixed her eyes upon his mouth. "They say you drink the blood of virgins to remain ever young."

For the first time I saw a light in her eyes. A light of excitement, of danger. She was reckless, this one. "And what do you say?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I say if this were true, why would you be so eager for death? I say if this were true, you would not be lying here in pain right now."

I shrugged. "It's true, I am in pain. But I will sleep during the daylight hours, and when I wake at sundown, I will be completely healed."

Her eyes widened.

"Or, I could heal much faster. Right now, in fact, with just a sip of your virgin's blood."

Her smile died slowly. "You're trying to frighten me. You can't, you know. If you wish to take my blood, take it. Drain me and leave me dead. I don't care."

"I wouldn't leave you dead, my beauty. Only gasping with pleasure. And perhaps no longer so virginal."

Her eyes were dark and fiery as she surged to her feet and came around the fire. She knelt in front of me, and tore the neckline of her dress open, baring her neck and her breasts. "Do not take me for an ignorant little fool," she said. "If it's my virginity you want, you've no need to resort to horror stories. I'd just as soon know a man before I die."

I stared at her. Her breasts, round and firm with youth. Her beauty and vitality overwhelmed me, and the hunger that gnawed at me night after night rose up like a beast and demanded sustenance.

I sat up slowly, and the hunger overshadowed even the pain that movement caused. I reached for her, clasped her nape in my hand, and drew her closer. With my lips, I traced a path along her jawline from her chin, to her neck, to her collarbone, to her breasts, giving my full attention to them until the girl was breathless and arching in pleasure.

Then I slid my mouth upward again, to her neck, her delicious, salty neck. I parted my lips and suckled the skin there, feeling the rush of blood in her jugular as surely as I could feel the pounding of the waterfall outside our cave.

Cupping her head, tugging it backward just enough, I bit down. And when my fangs pierced the vein and her blood rushed over my tongue, I felt everything she felt — including the climax that rocked her body.

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