Page 53 of Caller of Crows
Sighing, Sven sank down on the bed.
He'd never thought the day would come when he'd wish for a vampire's presence, but he did now.
He wished he could tell himself that he was simply bored, but although that was true, it wasn't only that. He wanted to see Altair, and he wanted answers.
He wanted Altair's arms around him again.
His fangs sinking into Sven's neck.
Fuck.
How had he become this desperate?
He'd never needed anyone.
His fingers curled in the covers.
HewantedAltair, and the realization made him feel dirty and cheap.
How could he want a man who was treating him like property? Who was selling his blood against his will, and who wouldn't even listen to his pleas, let alone act upon them.
He was an idiot.
Fuck.
He glared at the crow again. Altair could read Sven's mind when he was nearby, but could he do it when he was only looking at Sven through the eyes of his birds? Maybe he could and he knew exactly how conflicted Sven was and he was letting him stew in his thoughts to show him how dumb he was. "You really are punishing me."
The crow cawed, seemingly undaunted.
Sven threw his hands up in the air.
"What did I do to deserve this? Was it the begging? Did I make you uncomfortable?"
The crow peered down its beak at him as if wondering if Sven was stupid.
Funny, considering that Sven was wondering the same thing.
Maybe he and the crow weren't so different. In the end, they were both just pawns to Altair.
Sven was about to throw a pillow at the crow when the lock clicked and the door opened.
Altair strode in, looking as if the past days hadn't affected him in the slightest. His clothes were pristine and his expression was cool and collected, as always. Nothing at all like the happy man Sven had seen in Keegan's memory. Then again, maybe nothing he'd seen there had been real. After all, he'd only had Keegan's word for it, seeing as he hadn't had a chance to talk to Altair.
For days, he hadn't seen the vampire, and now Altair just stood there, with his stupidly handsome face, gazing at Sven with his stupidly intense dark eyes.
Heat crept into Sven's skin, part anger, part something that he didn't want to admit to.
He leaned into the anger.
Without thinking, he grabbed the pillow he'd been wanting to hurl at the crow and threw it at the vampire instead.
He expected Altair to catch the flying object with ease, so when the pillow collided with the vampire's face instead, Sven was shocked. He was not the only one. The crow let out a startled squawk as well.
Altair, for his part, stood in place, the pillow having fallen by his feet, his expression unreadable. "I was not expecting that."
Sven blinked at him, trying to find his tongue. "Neither was I," he admitted. He'd just acted out, without considering his actions.
Altair regarded him.
