Havermouth, Present TimeSamuel had always found the farmhouse and its surrounding buildings to be a peaceful, almost spiritual place, caught in a moment of time like an insect in amber as Sigrid had resisted changing her home, and water was still hand pumped into the bathroom, and the rooms were lit by candlelight and the fireplace.There were ruins amongst the rambling gardens and fields – little cottages for those that served the farmhouse and worked the farm around it. Samuel knew of the tragic misunderstanding that had led to those ruins and the deaths of those who had lived within them and suspected that Sigrid’s refusal to move or upgrade her home was as a monument of grief for those that had died, but mostly for that break in her relationship with her vampire-father.That refusal meant that there was an eternal need for wood, and, amongst the skeletons of vehicles that had made their way into the barn at some point and had never left, was an impressive woodpile. Sigrid and her
Havermouth, Present TimeGreg lay naked and facedown and Sigrid propped herself onto her elbow to admire the spread of him across the mattress, stroking her hand over the smooth curve of his arse, up the muscles of his back to ruffle his hair. He did not stir, exhausted from the blood exchange and fucking, his face slack, his lips parted as he slept.Her stomach was as swollen with his blood as if she were round with his child, and she stroked her hand over it thoughtfully, frowning as she did so. Vampires did not procreate easily, but she was almost entirely sure that she was pregnant. She had been tired, needed to feed more frequently, and strong smells could send waves of nausea through her…Virulent bloody werewolves.She smiled as she traced the bite mark on her shoulder. It stung, and the muscle ached. She could relieve the pain in a moment with vampire blood… but she didn’t. She had exchanged vows with Greg, and, in the manner of his people, he had left his mark upon her skin.
Rideten, Present TimeThey were swept into the house on a tide of women, voices overlapping in a craze that gave Rhett an instant headache. He managed to determine that those within the house were refugees of a sort, hiding from the Van Helsings and their cuffs. Part of him wanted to snarl at them that whilst the witches had been baking bread and burning incense, others were out there dying, but he managed to keep his temper in check.Stella quickly took control and began issuing instructions and orders. Rhett eased back out the way that they’d come and slipped onto the porch. There, overlooking the pretty garden, he took one of the prettily cushioned wicker chairs, propped his feet up on the bright patchwork of an ottoman, and lit a smoke.The door opened and Phillip stepped out, smoothing his hair back from his face as he scanned around him, spotting Rhett.“Fuck,” Rhett muttered. He should have followed the porch around the house and found a hidey hole.“There you are,” Phillip cro
Havermouth, Present TimeHarry had done a lot of things in their time as vampire. They had travelled widely and lived decadently.They enjoyed beautiful things and considered themselves to be one of them. They had always taken care of themselves and revelled in the admiration of others. Consequently, they had been a muse for several successful, and sometimes unsuccessful, artists, and got a thrill when they visited art galleries and found their own image staring back down at them, although they knew that if Talen and Sigrid ever learnt of it, they would chastise them for their carelessness.There had been times of hardship. One thing that humans excelled in was war, and occasionally they had become caught up in the conflict. They knew how to survive, and how to make the best of a situation.They had never farmed however, and it was an eye-opening experience.Jules’ day revolved around the farm. He rose with the dawn and the morning was filled with feeding and caring for the animals, m
Havermouth, Present TimeSamuel stood under the spray of the shower, letting the warmth of the water ease muscles that ached after the workout from chopping wood. First, he had struggled to carry the werewolf August, and now he was sore after performing a menial task. He had been spending too much time meditating, he reprimanded himself, and too little engaged in physical activity. Even a vampire’s strength needed accentuation through physical fitness.He stroked his hand over his stomach frowning. Had he put on weight?He would fly to the Edison farm, he decided. The exercise would be good for him, and it wasn’t as if he needed to hide his wings now that supernaturals were exposed to humans and the Havermouth population had come to accept and work with them.He carried his shirt and jacket in his hands when he left the house and stretched out his wings to their full extension. Being at the top of a hill made lift-off easier, and he quickly gained height, circling over Sigrid’s farm b
Havermouth, Present TimeJules groaned as Harry stroked their hands over him. Being bound by the leather at wrist and throat, the collar preventing him from looking down and anticipating Harry’s next move, the cold stone against his palms and the soles of his feet, and the breeze through the still open exterior doors of the stables pricking against the water that clung to his skin, Jules was lost in sensation, drugged by desire.He had never fucked before until Harry, he thought. He’d had sex, and made love, but there had never been anything like this. Harry made Jules realize that he had always treated sex like takeaway food – he grabbed it when he was hungry, filled his stomach, and moved on. For Harry, it was a full degustation meal with paired wine. Each detail was carefully crafted, curated for pleasure, and savored for the experience.The stable in which he stood was an example of his mate through and through. Jules knew every item in the room, as he knew everything on his land.
Rideten, Present TimeOnce the problem was explained by Stella, the refugee witches had no issue with volunteering to donate blood to Aislen’s mates. Talen insisted on doing it properly, choosing the front drawing room and arranging for tea and cake to be served. Aislen leaned against the doorframe and watched as he explained to the three hybrids about angles, pressure, and instinct.“You can sense their magic,” Stella observed, joining her in the door and keeping her voice low so as not to distract the lesson taking place. “Even from out here, there is something about a hungry vampire that soothes the soul. It is a release of oxytocin similar to that a mother gets as she feeds her baby.”“A little more sensuous than that,” Aislen observed dryly as Cameron’s witch volunteer’s cheeks flushed and her eyes lost focus, her body relaxing in the chair, surrendering herself to Aislen’s red-haired mate.“It depends on the individual, I suspect, and how attractive they find the vampire,” Stell
Havermouth, Present TimeSamuel gazed out over the endless stretch of snow. The fine drift of flakes misted the sky, blurring the point at which land and air met. In the distance, smoke rising from amongst the white was the only hint that a village was buried there, the walls and rooves of their houses lost beneath the fresh snowfall. The humans of the region had survived far worse, so he was not concerned for them. They knew well how to huddle together during the frost filled months of winter.When the snows melted, they would emerge with a new generation well on the way.The chamber behind him echoed with many voices raised in argument. The meeting had been in progress for many hours and had lost his interest as they rehashed the same points over and over again.“The bloodlines are under attack,” Ember’s voice rang out, silencing the argument. “There is simply no debating it. Already four lines are in danger. Ishiekiel and Salamen have brought the survivors into their own caves in o