Free Web NovelChapter 387: Chapter 387
Ragnar was not surprised in the least to return and find Circe still curled up asleep in bed, considering the hour at which the two of them had finally drifted off the night before. Unlike him, who could wake at the faintest sound or the lightest disturbance, Circe slept deeply and he found it quite adorable even though she would more than likely disagree.
Which was why she hardly stirred when the door creaked softly as he pushed it closed behind him.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
His gaze lingered helplessly on her sleeping form as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of a nearby chair before quietly toeing off his shoes.
Careful not to wake her, he padded toward the bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight as he slid beneath the covers and stretched out beside her with a quiet, contented sigh.
It was only when he draped an arm over her waist and gently pulled her closer that she finally stirred.
Her eyes squinted open just enough for her to look up at him through the haze of sleep.
"Good morning," she whispered, her voice thick and groggy.
Ragnar smiled at her, thoroughly amused.
"My love," he said lightly, "it is noon."
Circe rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, blinking several times.
"Good afternoon then," she replied without missing a beat.
She was so adorable and endearing even when she did not intend to be, and it took every bit of restraint Ragnar possessed not to let out the chuckle threatening to escape his chest.
"It’s still morning," he admitted after a moment, that familiar teasing glint dancing in his eyes. "I was merely joking."
Circe huffed in annoyance, muttering something unintelligible under her breath as she shifted closer to him. She tucked herself comfortably against his side and rested her head on his firm chest as though it were simply another one of her pillows.
Ragnar had been about to remark on how well-rested she seemed when a familiar scent reached him once more. Her scent. Soft and completely intoxicating.
It always did something to him. The effect of it was immediate and devastating, as though it stole away every last ounce of reason he possessed and left him as some creature ruled by nothing but want and desire. It was a dangerous thing, dangerous because when she was this close, when her scent wrapped around his senses, it felt as though he was hanging by a single thread that frayed more and more with each passing second.
His self-control thinned to almost nothing.
Like a vampire caught in the brutal throes of bloodlust. That was what she turned him into. Insatiable.
He could make love to her in every corner of this cottage, taste her from morning until night, and it still would not be enough to quench the inferno she ignited inside him.
He drew in another slow breath of her scent. Before he even realized what he was doing, he shifted on the bed and leaned closer to her.
His lips brushed first against the smooth curve of her neck. Then, almost unconsciously, the tips of his fangs grazed the same spot, easing the dull, throbbing ache that had been building in his teeth and gums.
He felt her shiver beneath the touch. But his mind had already begun to cloud.
A strange haze seemed to descend over his thoughts in that instant, dulling everything except the overwhelming pull toward her.
Unlike the countless times before when he had wrestled the urge down with iron discipline this was the first time he came so dangerously close to surrendering to it completely. To sink his fangs into her skin and mark her.Heavens knew he wanted to. He was tired of fighting it.
The fragile spell was only broken when Circe spoke.
"Why do you do that with your fangs?" she asked curiously. Her voice cut through the haze just enough for him to pause. She turned slightly in his arms to look up at him as Ragnar slowly withdrew from her neck and pushed himself upright against the headboard. "It isn’t the first time you’ve done it either."
He swallowed reflexively. With how he had been behaving, it was hardly surprising that she had begun to notice something was wrong.
His blood still burned hot in his veins, and the way she was watching him only made the struggle inside him worse.
"It is to stop me from doing something to you that might repulse you," Ragnar said quietly, "and might make you hate me."
The statement carried the weight of a fear he had kept buried for some time. Ever since that strange, consuming need had begun to take root in his mind, it had been his greatest concern. The urge grew far stronger whenever she was near, stronger than anything he had ever known. When he was alone or surrounded by others, the sensations were manageable. But the moment Circe stepped into the same room, the pain in his fangs intensified until it bordered on unbearable. freewebnσvel.cøm
That was certainly not the answer she had expected.
A small crease formed between her brows as the last traces of sleep vanished entirely from her eyes. Now she was fully awake, studying him with a look of confusion.
"You are not making any sense," she said slowly. "Why would I possibly hate you?"
She pushed herself upright on the bed, the cover dropping down around her wait as she turned toward him.
"Because before me," Ragnar replied, "you disliked all vampires."
Circe blinked, momentarily stunned.
It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, sensing instinctively that there was a deeper issue beneath his words, one he had not yet fully revealed.
"I would say the same thing about your kind," she said at last, her tone thoughtful, "and the way some of them treat the humans who migrate here."
The moment the words left her mouth, an image surfaced vividly in her mind.
The queen’s banquet. The long hall filled with nobles.
And Nheera, seated at the high table while human servants moved silently through the room with iron chain collars fastened around their necks.
"I do not hate all vampires, only the ones who believe it is their right to torment humans who are simply trying to find a fresh start in life, merely because they possess the power to do as they please. Those are the vampires I cannot abide. You, my love, are nothing like them. You could never make me hate you."
Even as her statement clearly thrilled him, a storm of conflicting emotions continued to flicker behind Ragnar’s eyes. He drank in every syllable she spoke, yet something inside him remained restless and uncertain.
Noticing the turmoil etched across his expression, Circe gently placed her hand over his chest in a quiet gesture meant to offer comfort. The warmth of her palm lingered there, steady and reassuring, enough to stir something within him that made him want, perhaps for the first time, to reveal the depth of his dark urges.
"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked softly after a moment.
It teased at a distant memory that nearly drew a laugh from him. It reminded him of months ago, when she had first accused him of being destitute.
"I do not fully understand it myself," Ragnar admitted after a pause. His voice was quieter now, threaded with a hint of vulnerability that he rarely showed others.
"I never had my mother or any demon in my life to teach me about this side of my nature. Because of that, I have always felt... lost when it comes to it."
His gaze drifted briefly, as though recalling the countless moments he had struggled in silence. "For the longest time, I have had to pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary, even while your scent drove me nearly mad with need. My skin feels far too tight for my body, as though it might split open at any moment. My chest grows so constricted that I sometimes fear my heart might burst within it." His brows drew together. "It is painful. And yet feeding from you is all my mind seems capable of focusing on when it happens. It feels as though I am being lit ablaze from within."
He hesitated before finishing, his voice softening. "I know it is an odd thing to experience. The last thing I would ever want is to frighten you with these strange urges of mine."
Circe slowly licked her bottom lip, a small, unconscious gesture that Ragnar’s gaze immediately followed.
