My pounding heartbeat felt like it decimated my skull. I woke up half expecting someone  rhythmically banging a hammer on my head. Everything spun and ached.

As I sat up, trying to find my bearings, my stomached flipped. Despite trying to rein it in, I threw up as someone shoved a bucket under my head just in time, and I retched noisily. My headache worsend. 

"Ugh," I groaned, clutching the edge of the bucket, shaking all over. It was pitch black, and I felt miserable. Physically and emotionally drained and fucking miserable. Heavily, I tried to find my way out of the fog of emotions, trying to crawl their way from my subconscious. For now, my bodily aches seemed to keep them at bay.

The most important questions:
Where was I?
Who was I?
How did I get here?
Why was I where I was?

I was sitting on something soft, and since I had been lying down before, I assumed I was in a bed, under a blanket. Not a ditch somewhere off road then. 

So far, so good.

Of course, I knew who I was, but what exactly had happened was hard to separate. Everything felt like a strange dream, images out of context covering each other accompanied by a hailstorm of emotions. 

I used my senses, let them stretch out to feel my way around the room.

I couldn't see who was with me, but I felt another presence. A cold, calm, yet comforting presence. 

Eric. 

My skin tingled. Without seeing him, I could make out his shape, feel his closeness, the way his eyes lingered on me. My head jerked around, for which I was rewarded with a fresh wave of nausea and pain. I groaned. Cold fingers touched my forehead, and I sighed contentedly.

"Thank you!"

Only when the pain subsided did it occur to me again that I should probably be more cautious and wonder about the fact that we were together in a dark bedroom, which I just couldn't manage to do. I didn't have the strength it would take to wonder about the circumstances or potentially panic because of the pain.

Something—a strange memory, a lightning strike—flashed before my closed eyes, scratching at a part of my memory that I had locked away from myself. It was as if it were on the tip of my tongue, just about to break through, but for the moment I tried to reach for it, thoughts scattered once more and  I simply felt numb.

Numb and somewhat disoriented, but primarily safe in a dark room. Everything else could wait.

"Eric?" I whispered into the darkness, when my upset stomach finally settled.

"Shhhh," he rumbled, and I closed my eyes again. It was terrifying how much his presence calmed me and took the pain away. He was like a morphine patch. Comforting, pain-relieving, and highly addictive.

Silently, he took the bucket away from me, and without the support of the plastic bucket, I slumped weakly back into the pillows. His fingers disappeared, and he rose from the bed. Unwillingly, I whimpered and sobbed. It physically hurt that he was moving away.

"Don't go," I heard myself whisper, ashamed of the desperation in my voice. But the shame disappeared the moment Eric sat back down next to me and leaned over. The bed creaked under his weight, and he placed a hand on my cheek, sighing heavily. His lips gently brushed my forehead in such a comforting, caring gesture that a tear escaped the corner of my eye, and I inhaled shakily. "Thank you!"

"You have a concussion. You need to rest. I'll come back, I promise." Another forehead kiss. "You are save. Sleep now."

The vibration of his voice through the empty room tickled in my ears, resonating in my body, leaving a cozy warmth behind. I closed my eyes, feeling my senses slip back into unconsciousness. The last thing I heard was Eric softly muttering to himself, "And when you wake up, we'll talk."

When I woke up again, my headache had improved significantly. Sure, it was still there, making opening my eyes a challenge, but at least I didn't immediately have to look for the bucket again. Eric's cool arm was firmly placed around my body, the other under my neck. His proximity, his cool skin against my heated one, helped immensely. He held me like a child against his chest. His bare chest.

Maybe not like a child after all...

I sighed contentedly, snuggling further into his arms, letting his silence, his smell engulf me. 

The waking state came slowly. 

I wasn't ready to leave the cocoon of numbness that his presence brought, my satisfied, emotionless shell in which I had wrapped myself and somehow him. But my body knew before my consciousness did that there was much to process, and so my heartbeat quickened, my throat constricted in impending panic, and the first sharp, prickling emotions broke through the wall.

Memories flooded my mind, each worse than the last. With each one, my heartbeat increased. Then came the pain again, emotional pain, so much worse than the headaches and nausea. 

My burning eyes began to fill with tears; the pressure behind them grew stronger. Quickly, I began to squirm in his arms, seeking escape, wanting only to get away.

Confusion. Hatred. Relief. Betrayal. Fear. Concern. Relief.

Unexpectedly, it took my breath away. I couldn't bear it when someone saw me cry, saw me vulnerable. Fight-or -flight instinct hit with full force, screaming at me to run away and hide. The weight of the emotions kept growing, kept suffocating me. I couldn't remember having my  feeling kept me in a chokehold this badly in my life. Everything was stronger, louder, worse. My walls, my armor , which I had strengthened, cultivated, and maintained over the years, had collapsed, leaving only the open wounds of my past, open and raw, never truly processed but only stuffed aside, bleeding freely.  

Under normal circumstances, I'd be in a bar by now, ordering the largest bottle of bourbon the place had to offer, then disappearing with the bottle and an interested-looking man until exhaustion brought me back into the clutches of unconsciousness and the feelings were numbed for a time. 

But I couldn't flee or pick up a stranger in a bar. I was already in bed with a man, and he didn't seem inclined to let me go – or fuck me into oblivion.

On the contrary, Eric held me tightly—not so much that he hurt me, but firmly enough that I couldn't escape. I struggled against him, growing more panicked, wanting to flee, but Eric waited until I calmed down. I hit him, screamed, and scratched him, and he let me, until I ran out of energy. Then I remembered how everything I'd done had effected Eric and a new wave of grief hit me. And guilt. So much unbearable guilt. 

"I—" My eyes filled with tears now. Soft light seeped under the door into the room, illuminating his face. He looked at me with pity.

"I know."

"I..." A solitary tear rolled onto the pillow, and a lump burned in my throat. Tom's betrayal burned more intensely than a red-hot iron could have if someone had stabbed me in the gut with it. Yet I still loved him—or thought I did. "Oh."

I clutched my heart as it pounded faster and faster, breaking, mending itself with relief that he was alive, then shattering again as all his actions became clear to me, and I relived the fact that he'd never loved me, used me from the start.

No one loved me. No one ever had. I was something to be used, not something to be loved. 

My nails dug into my skin as I kept trying to clutch my burning organ pounding away in my chest. This wasn't normal, was it? I should not feel that much. The pain, growing and still growing until I thought I would go insane with it. 

Eric just kept holding me close and I didn't know what to think of it. Was it retaliation? Caring? A new form of torture? I don't think either of us knew. I pushed against him, growing more panicked, wanting to flee, but Eric waited until I calmed down. I pounded on his chest, screamed, scratched him, and he let me, until I ran out of breath.

 "Shhh,"Eric kept mumbling, holding me, stroking my hair.

There was a tension in his arms, which spoke of his restrained anger. It should have scared me, but I had no room for other emotions but the hurt, left to give.  And it wasn't like he didn't have the opportunity to snap me in half before. I was in no condition to put up a fight. Instead, I would probably crumble all together as soon as he'd let got. I felt like I was only holding on by a thread, had shattered and only his strong arms were keeping the remaining pieces from breaking as well. 

So I cried. 

I cried so hard I at some point didn't even remember what I was crying about. I started to hiccup, tried to calm myself, fell into some fitful sleep, then cried some more. My face itched with all the tears that had streamed down my cheeks. Then I looked back up at Eric, at his calm expression regarding me with a guarded expression and I cried some more until I eventually was just... empty. 

We both didn't seem to trust the new found silence, because neither broke it for quite some time. Instead I had snuggled into his chest, merely breathing. After hours of crying into his chest, my tears soaking his shirt, our scents had mixed, his cologne and natural musk seeped into my pores. Each intake of breath calmed me more, started to fill little parts of the emptiness I had refused to acknowledge before. 

Eric had held me close all those hours, mumbled sweet nothings into my ear, while stroking my back and letting me go insane for a little while. A tinge of shame nudged at my consciousness for the way I had behaved but I was too exhausted to truly care. 

When I was certain I had no more tears left to cry, I bend back my head, looking up. Erics blazing blue eyes greeted me. 

"Thank you." My voice was hoarse, almost sounding wrong. 

Eric just gave a small nod. I had expected him to tease, maybe grumble or leave a snarky comment. But he didn't 

Instead he seemed far removed, his gaze unfocused. He hadn't even noticed me stroking his chest the last ten minutes, drawing mindless patterns onto his pectoral, using him as my personal zen garden. 

At least he didn't react to it. 

When his voice finally broke the silence, cutting through my now steadied breathing, his timbre was rough and short. 

"Ashley," he spoke my whole name, his voice tinged with his accent. I could feel his voice vibrate through his body, carrying into mine. 

In an uncontrollable reaction, I shivered, the hairs on my body standing erect, suddenly attuned to the fact that I was, in fact, cuddled up to a mostly naked vampire, the vampire that had been starring in multiple of my very inappropriate dreams. 

I stiffened, horrified. 

Not now. God, please body. Not now. 

I swallowed hard. Once. Twice. 

However it was a futile attempt. My heartbeat picked up again, as Erics smell stopped being a soothing, calming entity and instead fueled the unwanted fire that had erupted in me. My skin grew sensitive as I felt myself slicken between my thighs. 

For the first time, I cursed my sex drive. 

I had always been a sexual being. Despite my first encounters of that nature being touched and groped by people who had been suppose to be my guardians, who had no business touching a young child, my first time sex had been a good experience. With Tom, a boy I had thought I'd loved. He'd introduced me to pleasure and all the ways being lost in your body allowed for much needed breaks from reality. 

Which I needed a lot. 

Somewhere along the line, Sex became my coping mechanism, my endorphins high, when things got too heavy for me to carry. 

With Toms presumed death, I had spiraled out of control for a time, looking for that good feeling that could numb the bad. It worked for a while but it also cemented my brains understanding for pleasure... Pleasure and pain. 

Now I was an emotional wreck and my brain wanted to help me numb the pain. 

Erics fingers still grazing my back started to elicit sparks running up and down my spine. His naked chest beneath my skin tingled, everywhere we touched, zaps of pleasure shot down my core igniting an ache. 

I didn't dare look back up at him. His fingers flexed. 

"Ashley?"

"Hm?" 

Fuck. Even my hum was close to a moan. 

The angel and devil on my shoulders started to debate. Was it wrong to give in? To initiate? I had wanted him for a long time. He didn't kill Tom. Had actually spared him. Twice, it seems. It was a short reprieve. A moment in time allowing for battered heart to mend itself together. It was only sex. Eric could separate that, right? Sex and feelings? 

Get a grip. 

Get a grip. 

Get a –

My thought were interrupted with Eric placing his hand beneath my chin, forcing me to lift my head. Despite the darkness surrounding us, his face seemed to glow down at me. I saw his sharp features, the light shining in his eyes, promising mischief and passion. 

God, how I wanted this intensity unleashed on me. 

My skin tingled from my toes to the tips of my hair. Wherever his cold fingers, his cold skin touched mine, tiny sparks shot through me, making my nerve endings vibrate, simultaneously tingling and numb. My eyes widened. I tried to escape the ocean of sensations, moving, shifting him against me, only to be met with more impulses and electric jolts.

There was chemistry, and then there were phenomena that defied physics and strayed into the realm of the mystical. I felt completely like I was losing control of myself. Sparks, literal sparks erupted between us, illuminating the room. 

I was reasonably sure that no one could find someone as attractive that they literally experienced electric shocks and sparks... right?

"Ah," I half gasped, half moaned breathlessly, when Erics touch trailed along my body, sparks and shocks following his touch in a humming, almost painful way. I pushed Eric off me, trying to create some distance, even though all I wanted was to wrap my legs around him to keep him locked in place.

"Ashley," he growled again. My body bent toward him, one magnet pulling toward the other.

Half-heartedly, I continued to recoil, though my body betrayed me by leaning toward him. It was as if I'd lost all control over myself.

A flash of lightning illuminated the darkness of the room, revealing Eric's startled face. I was sure mine looked no different.

Even though the lightning had long since vanished, my vision didn't worsen. The room was pitch black, yet I could still see Eric. I could see the dark veil settling over his wide, astonished eyes, the way he looked at the places where I touched him, and how his gaze wandered over my body.

"Come here,", he commanded. 

And I obliged. 

His hands trailed up my arms, following the path of my shoulders, my neck, before his hands burrowed themselves. This was not suppose to feel this good. However, I seemed to be a complete mess of waring instincts. My skin was on fire.

Despite my attempt of keeping distance, my body was no longer under my control. Instead, my hands went for his hair, entangled themselves with the soft strands. There were no more electric shocks, however the sparks tinkling my skin remained and intensified to a point I could feel them buzzing in my heart. 

I gasped, panicked. What was happening with me? 

"Trust me.", Eric mumbled against my lips. I leaned in, wanting to kiss him, to finally feel him, but Eric just pulled away, the smile on his lips the last thing I felt before his plastered my face with featherlight brushes of his lips, trailing along my cheek, my eyelids, to my ear. 

"Tell me everything.", he demanded. 

"I" It took my brain a minute to understand what he was doing. He was interrogating me!

One would think the feeling of betrayal would shock me back int o the presence. It didn't . 

Contradicting him or rejecting him was out of the question. Since he didn't stop his exploratory journey when I didn't respond, I concluded that he might have allowed himself to get a little carried away. His body didn't seem particularly focused on a "conversation," but neither did mine. I couldn't get enough of him, craving more of the sweet torment of his touch. The distraction.

My legs wrapped around his back, my arms around his neck. I clung to his bare torso as if he were the only salvation from a deep abyss, the lifeline to which I had to hold on. It all stemmed from a newly awakened addiction to wanting more of him. More of his scent, more of his voice, his cold skin against mine, within me.

Eric seemed to feel the same. He trailed gentle yet deliberate bites down my neck, as if battling with himself over whether to indulge in the tempting artery I had so generously offered. A growl, both frustrated and satisfied, rumbled through his chest, its vibrations traveling through my shirt and settling into my bones. 

That was more like it.

I let myself fully sink into the feelings he was stirring within me. Moaning, I tilted my head back under the ministrations of his sucking and nibbling at my neck. My mouth felt unbearably dry, and I swallowed hard. A pink haze settled over my thoughts, allowing me to feel but no longer think.

And that's when I noticed it.

These feelings weren't entirely my own. Not just mine.

The reason I was giving myself over to Eric so completely and helplessly wasn't solely due to me. His emotions had spilled into my chest, mingling with mine. His lust, his desire, and his hunger for me coursed through my veins like molten lava. But there was more.

There was anger, even hatred, and a sense of betrayal and confusion—feelings I had assumed were mine but were, in fact, reflected from him.

My mouth fell open.

Then, a fire shot through my veins, severing the connection as a loud bang shattered the room's silence, flinging me violently off the bed.

The smell of burnt wood filled the air, and a small, glowing fire burned between us, right where we had been sitting on the wooden-framed bed moments ago.

While my mouth remained agape, Eric's face broke into a self-satisfied, triumphant smile. The sense of superiority and the joy of solving a puzzle filled the room.

I couldn't keep up with my own emotions as Eric clapped his hands together, throwing his head back with laughter before exclaiming: "She truly hid a descendant of the Thunder God!"