Dear Literotica Readers, thanks for all your votes, comments, and encouragement! Your support has really kept me going with this story. Please continue to send me feedback as it helps me learn as I go! Or, let me know what you enjoy!
I couldn't resist adding Connor's p.o.v. this round. Let me know what you think!
For those new to this story, please start from the beginning, as the chapters really do not stand alone. Happy reading!
****
Connor flashed a look of annoyance at Sam as she paced the tiny room, engrossed in her phone conversation. He still was having trouble understanding how they'd ended up sleeping on the same bed. Tyrus really owed him one this time.
The elf was in the middle of a nauseating conversation with her boyfriend, the incaendo demon. He was telling her, in graphic detail, what she should do when they met up again. A faint scent of female arousal drifted through the air. Connor coughed loudly.
Angry green eyes glared back at him.
"What's your problem?" She mouthed.
"Werewolf hearing, remember?" He hissed, pointing to his ear to emphasise his point. "I can hear. Every. Word."
She rolled her eyes, not even having the decency to look embarrassed. "Fine," she mouthed again. "Hold on a sec," she said to her phone, "there's a fly in the room and it's driving me nuts. I'm stepping out."
A haze of red blurred his vision momentarily. A fly! The nerve of this woman. He barred his teeth at her, barely biting back a snarl as he watched her walk out of the room.
The moment the door slammed shut, Connor felt the muscles in his body unclench. He grunted as he reached down to adjust his hard dick in his jeans. It wasn't just that he had to share space with an infuriating, insolent
elf
.
No, it was much worse than that. It was that she smelled of pine and morning dew, the scent of the forest when he woke up after a long night run as wolf. It was a scent he had loved since the first time he had turned, at the first light of dawn, in a place so deep in the forest, no human had ever set foot in it.
It was a sacred scent, a scent of freedom, oneness, and peace. And by some unfathomable decision of the fates, or twist of nature, or the devil himself, it was also
her
scent.
He growled, forcing his wolf down. The beast had been prowling, pushing as close as it could to the surface beneath his skin, as it always did around Sam. It wanted her. His wolf had never cared if a female was human, werewolf, or the sworn enemy of his species. As long as she had two legs and a skirt, his wolf would screw it. And this one smelled like Christmas morning.
Usually, he was no different. He had needs, and to him, lust was an uncomplicated thing. He liked sex with his supper, and he had it in large quantities, and often. He even took it upon himself to sate the needs of the unmated females in his pack, whenever they were in heat. It was simple. You have an itch, go to Connor, no strings attached, no questions asked.
In fact, he was supposed to have gotten laid last night, at the club. He'd had a dry spell, having gotten caught up with work for the pack, and had called Tyrus out as his wingman for what should have been a night of epic fucking.
Who would have known that the jackass already had himself wrapped around a female's pinky, and would go running headfirst into the biggest shitload of trouble for her. He'd spent the night worrying about his friend, his mood sunk, dreading news that his old friend had been killed by the Governance.
Now, after a long day trapped in a car with that stupid scent messing with his head, his wolf demanded what it was meant to have had last night. He had no way to oblige, given that he was stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no available females in sight. None, except for one tiny blonde with a massively aggravating attitude.
Connor huffed in annoyance. No way would he ever consider tapping
that
. He shoved that thought at his wolf, forcing it deeper into his subconscious until it rolled its eyes and stalked off to wherever it went when his human side was in charge.
Good. He eyed the door warily, but it stayed shut. The faint sound of Sam's voice was barely audible when he strained his ears. He should have time for a quick wank, a cold, cold shower, and some shut-eye.
****
Tyrus stared at Anya's back, taking in the scent of her hair, and the womanly curve of her hips. He reached out, letting his hand trail along the nape of her neck. His long fingers wrapped around her throat, whilst his other hand grabbed her around the waist, pressing her against his body. Involuntarily, his incisors lengthened into lethal fangs.
Anya relaxed, her body going soft. Just when he began to ease up, she tensed. She shifted her weight abruptly, causing his hold to loosen enough for her to spin around. An invisible force blasted at him, knocking him backwards for a split second. Not wasting any time, she broke free of him, and raised a knee towards his groin. He blocked it effortlessly before it connected with its target.
"Good. Now again, faster."
She allowed herself a brief smile, before turning around again to resume their practice.
Their training was going better than he expected. It turned out, what Anya could do with her mind was not unlike what he had started out with, when he had just become a vampire. With some concentration and practice, she could now throw off his mind-hold in a couple of seconds. She could also push him back a couple of paces with her talent. Not enough to really hold back an experienced vampire, but maybe enough to gain the advantage of surprise and escape.
They had since moved on to some self-defence lessons. He'd shown her the quickest ways to cause pain to an attacker, and how to get out of a few difficult situations, if held down. It made him feel a lot safer to know that she could fight back if needed.
She was a quick study, and was relentless in her training. Anya was nothing short of amazing. He'd caught the determined look on her face as they practiced. It reminded him of his younger self, when he'd sought everything he could learn from Satine.
When faced with the increasing challenges he threw at her, she continued to meet him with everything she had, even though she was visibly tired. He knew he needed to call it a night soon. She was approaching the limit of her practice and needed to rest.
Once again, he wondered at what she was. If she were a vampire, she would need to feed, even with a cloaking spell. After their training, he was certain that she did not possess the additional strength that supernaturals did. If anything, she was maybe a little more agile than the average human, and a little faster. He had not forgotten that she could heal quickly too, although most supernaturals had that ability.
Since Anya had no traceable lineage or family, there was nothing left to look into. He'd been checking since he'd met her. Her last name, Johnson, had been a generic one given by her orphanage and was a dead end. No one had come looking for her throughout her entire time in foster care. Maraav's own checks had yielded the same results.
Tyrus couldn't help but wonder what circumstances would have led someone to believe that she had a better fighting chance hiding amongst humans. If Katrina couldn't release the cloaking spell, it was unlikely that anyone other than the original spellcaster could. Curious and impatient as he was, his mystery girl would continue to remain a mystery for a while longer.
He did not like having too many unknowns. The trained assassin in him was used to dealing in cold, hard certainty. This whole situation unsettled him, almost as much as his feelings for Anya did. He had never felt so off-balance in his life, and he didn't know what to do about it.
"Hello? Tyrus?" Anya looked up at him, snapping him out of his reverie. She had her hands around his wrists, and he realised she'd managed to gain the upper hand from his distraction.
"We'll stop here. You need to rest for tomorrow. You did well today."
She released his wrists and opened her mouth to protest. He shook his head before she could speak. "You're tired, I can see you slowing down. Your body needs sleep, so you can recharge and train another day. Rest, Anya."
She stared up at him for a moment, then nodded. "Thanks... for teaching me," she said softly, her lips lifting in a shy smile.
