𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌
❝like a moth to a flame, she always returns to me❞
Dakota Elkins is no stranger to the supernatural with her being a telepath and vampires out of the coffin, but when one winds his way into her cousins...
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ERIC FELL TO THE FLOOR WITH A LOUD THUD, BLOOD OOZING FROM HIS CHEST AS HE CLUTCHED AT THE WOUND WITH ONE HAND. It stained his pale skin dark red. His name fell from Dakota's mouth in a panicked squeal. He had thrown himself between the wolf and the bullet that Dakota had shot when the wolf charged for them, getting hit himself. Eric choked out a painful moan, closing his eyes.
Holy shit, V.
The werewolf came to a halt three feet away from the blond, but seemed to have no eye for her as he shifted back into his human form, revealing a stark naked man. It was the same man she had seen at Merlotte's that morning. He let out a growl and threw himself onto the viking.
Dakota raised the gun, trying to get a good aim at him but there was no way she was going to shoot him without putting Eric in danger. He was much taller than the werewolf, and even if he wouldn't die from the shot, she did not want to unnecessarily hurt him.
"Stay back, Dakota." he ordered, holding the man by the shoulders as he tried to push him off. He was already so high on another dose of V that he was almost as strong as Eric was. "Do not shoot him! He knows."
"Knows what?" echoed Dakota, taking a cautious step back and her bare back hit the fireplace behind her.
"Who do you work for?" demanded Eric, murderous scowl on his face as he gripped him a bit tighter, bone almost breaking underneath his touch.
"Give me a taste, fucker!" Was all he got in return as the werewolf tried to get a taste of his blood, intoxicated by the fumes of it. "Come on!"
"Who send you?" pressed Eric, his eyes darkened as one hand shot to the wolf's throat and he squeezed the flesh together.
"I - I can't," he was struggling to breath as the viking tightened his grip. "I can't t-talk."
Eric narrowed his eyes and loosened his grip, but still held him firmly above his own body. The bullet had pushed itself from his chest and the wound had healed, leaving only half dried blood on his skin. It was enough, though, and the man broke free from his grasps and sunk his teeth into the freshly healed skin. Eric cried out before grabbing the back of his long hair and threw him off.
The werewolf slammed into the wall and Dakota had a good shot at him, but Eric didn't want her to shoot him so she waited. His eyes widened and he stumbled to his feet, ready to make a run for it and out of the house. Dakota pulled the trigger in panic and the bullet etched itself into his lower leg, making him fall down in the hall.
The viking was on him in an instant, pressing his knee into his back and pulling his head back by his greasy hair.
"For the last time," he growled, grabbing his pointer finger and pulling it back, breaking the bone. The werewolf screamed in agony, trying to get away from the vampire. "who is your master?"
