Warrior’s Will Chapter 7 Preview

Piers was still staring at his hand when he heard Raihan rise to his feet across the room, and dragged his stunned gaze from his own bruised knuckles to that huge figure. With a grisly pop, Raihan punched the side of his jaw until it snapped back into place, and rolled his shoulders in a way that radiated rage and menace. He was a dragon, a force of nature itself, and mercy ought visit the souls of those who would stand against him.

Yet Piers felt no fear of that strength.

It was staggering; after a lifetime spent running and hiding, shrieking and flinching from pains, wary of every shadow crept in the dark even when he was meant to be among them, the absence of fright left him dizzy. Weightless. Yet as his tongue curved out over his lips and he tasted the last traces of copper, it was as though fire sunk through his veins, and those restrictions slipped free.

He was a vampire, a true one. He’d taken blood from the flesh of the living, and there was no undoing what had been done. Instinct drew his senses to the pulse of blood as it thumped in Raihan’s throat, and he could easily picture the motions he’d need to take to spring for it, to sink his fangs in and finish what he’d begun. The beckoning pleasure called to him, and even the bulk of Raihan’s form didn’t seem so immense anymore. Yes, sense said he would win if it were a fight between them—older, stronger, more trained—yet there was a predator that awoke in Piers’ chest, stretched itself out languidly, and prowled at the edges of his consciousness.

His human mind said he ought to fear that, too. His human mind was the one who had lashed out, desperate to establish a boundary before some fearful, unnameable thing happened between them. Yet the creature—no, the self within himself, that was who had been purring and twisting on the bed, revelling in the warmth of blood and the strength of a lover. It was the one who had wanted, and that wanting was terrible and wonderful all at once. That was what frightened him. The desires which lived in his heart felt foreign and frightening, and every day with Raihan meant they were called closer to the surface.

Testing himself, Piers dragged his eyes downwards, forcing his eyes to instead take in the brutal scar that ringed Raihan’s waist. Even though he’d drunk from live flesh, he wasn’t inhuman. That sight still pained him, for a dozen reasons he couldn’t name, even as Raihan’s blood clung to his fangs and coated his tongue.

“You would do well not to raise your hand to me again, little one,” Raihan growled, his voice low and crackling. Warning, even as Piers stared him down. “I don’t take kindly to it, and were you anyone else, you’d be paying the price.”

Anyone else? What could that mean? He and Piers barely knew each other, and yet again, Raihan spoke as if they’d been friends for centuries. As if they were important to one another, when they hardly had a week between them.

He was sick of it. “Then you’ll do well to not touch me again without my permission, Drakarys. Despite what you seem to think, I’m not your toy or your plaything. I’m certainly not your whore. I might be a damn coward, but I have my boundaries, and you’ve done more than enough to push me past them tonight.” 

The words spat themselves out of his throat, and even Raihan looked shocked at the venom in them. Shocked and...remorseful? He’d claimed that Piers was the one who turned notions on their sides, and yet each time Piers thought he had Raihan’s character figured out, he offered a glimpse of another side of himself that completely reshuffled the deck.

A ripple flew across that handsome face, the muscles and bones beneath twitching towards a shift that had Piers bracing himself. Tensing, but not fleeing. Not anymore.

Then the ripple settled, and Raihan looked briefly at the floor, as though gathering his thoughts. “You’re right,” he said finally, reaching one hand up to rub across the back of his neck. “You’re right, and I apologize. It’s not my wish to force you into these things. And you’re no man’s whore, not even mine. I only touched you because of my own desire, which I assumed was reciprocated based on the way you were acting.”

The way Piers had been practically dry-humping him, that’s what he meant. Lust fluttered through his body again at the memory, his body still tender and sensitive. He wanted to hate the way he desired Raihan against all reason, but there was no denying that he was painfully attractive. And when Piers had tasted the power and strength coursing through his body, he’d lusted after it in a way he’d never craved anything before.

(And that’s all I’m giving you tonight! I hope to update by this weekend.)