FAINE

Nether

Faine possessed a rare and extraordinary ability among vampires—rifting. This supernatural gift allowed her to transform into mist and reappear at any location of her choosing. What made her rifting ability all the more remarkable was its origin. Many centuries ago, when Sharpe was a young witch still learning to control his power, he had unintentionally cast a spell on Faine. The consequences of this spell were profound, as it bound their destinies together inextricably.

The spell that granted Faine the power of rifting couldn't be undone without incurring great cost to both of them. Over the centuries, Faine had perfected her gift, mastering the art of drifting away into mist and reappearing wherever she wished. It was a power that set her apart among vampires, a reminder of the enduring affection between her and Sharpe.

After collapsing on the edge of the packlands, Faine remained unmoving for three agonizing days. She felt utterly adrift, the reality of her banishment from the vampire clan and Grey's presumed mating with Wynne heavy on her soul.

Eventually she mustered the strength to rift herself away to the Great Falls, a place that had become a refuge of solitude. There, by the cascading waters, she mirrored her previous behavior, refusing to hunt or feed, consumed by thoughts of Grey. Her yearning for him was a relentless ache in her chest, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was now content with Wynne.

Amidst the deafening roar of the waterfall, Faine grappled with the painful reality of her banishment and the loss of the male she had blood bonded. She felt lost and unsure about how to move forward, her world irrevocably changed by a cascade of events that had shattered her heart and left her adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Her worst fears made nightmarish reality.

Faine's solitude by the Great Falls stretched on for nearly three weeks, during which she became increasingly frail, losing nearly 25 pounds. She was consumed by constant thoughts of Grey and her banishment, paying little heed to her own well-being.

However, one day, a sharp sense of unease overcame her, and she could feel Sharpe's distress and uncontrollable anger through their mysterious link. It was a jolt to her senses, a stark reminder of the bond they shared. With great effort, Faine forced herself to feed and wash.

When she felt strong enough, she hastily made her way to the witches to check on him but they had been searching for her. The white witches revealed a dire situation: the wolf sentinel had taken Sharpe some time ago, and his life was now in jeopardy. The witches urged Faine to go free and return him immediately, for they were on the brink of launching an attack on the largest werewolf pack in the Grove. Faine knew that she had no choice but to intervene, setting aside her own grief and pain for the sake of her friend and the fragile peace that hung in the balance.

The white witches were stunned and deeply worried when they laid eyes on Faine's haggard appearance. Her gaunt figure and weakened state were alarming, and they could see the effects that her self-imposed isolation had taken on her.

Since Faine had to face Grey in her current state, the witches prepared provisions for her journey. They packed a bundle of meat, bread, and a full flask of honey mead, not realizing the full extent of the danger. While mead wouldn't typically affect Faine due to her vampiric nature, her prolonged starvation, sleep deprivation, dehydration, and the immense stress she had endured took their toll.

Faine consumed the entire flask of mead during her race to the packlands without eating. The result was an excessive state of drunkenness that left her vulnerable, making it painfully clear that she desperately needed to feed properly to regain her strength and clarity.

In her intoxicated state, Faine arrived at the packlands and found herself disoriented. Her senses were muddled, and she couldn't immediately locate Sharpe or Grey. With a sense of urgency driving her, she decided to gain a better vantage point.

Rifting to the top of a towering redwood tree, she scanned the surroundings and spotted an unusual structure separate from the pack house – the Alpha sentinel's house. Driven by impulsivity, she made a rash decision. Without hesitation, she rifted herself directly into the main room of Grey's house.

As she materialized in the unfamiliar setting, Faine found herself facing Grey, who stood shirtless in the kitchen, a cup of water in his hand. Her arrival was abrupt and unexpected, and the consequences of her impulsive action remained uncertain, especially given her intoxicated state.

Faine's arrival in Grey's home was anything but graceful. As she materialized, she stumbled forward, her inebriated state causing her to collide with Grey, spilling his water onto his bare chest. Her demand to see Sharpe was abrupt and assertive, and it unleashed Grey's jealous rage.

Grey, his chest covered with the spilled water, demanded answers in return. His voice was laced with menace as he questioned Faine about her drunken state, her whereabouts during her absence, who had starved her, and why she was so intensely concerned with the precious witch, Sharpe.

Faine's voice was full of defiance as she retorted to Grey's accusations. She told him that she had never been drunk a day in her life and had no idea what he was referring to. She made it clear that her whereabouts were none of his business, and she was doing just fine.

Her words were accompanied by a forceful punch to his wet chest, a physical manifestation of her resolve. Faine's determination to see Sharpe was unwavering, and she was unwilling to be swayed by Grey's questions about her recent ordeal. The atmosphere in the room crackled with unresolved emotions as the two clashed in their stubbornness and desire for control.

In a swift and surprising move, Grey caught Faine by the wrist and spun her around. As he wrapped his strong arms around her, he pulled her back into his embrace. His voice, though still tinged with anger, held a possessive determination as he spoke to her.

"You came to your guardian," he declared firmly, his words laced with authority. "I'm the one you truly want, and tonight, I'm the only one you're going to see, touch, smell, speak to, or have anything to do with." His grip on her remained firm.

As Faine leaned back into Grey's embrace, a low, sensual purr escaped her lips. Her body responded instinctively to his presence, and she stretched her neck out towards him, seeking his touch. Grey couldn't help but be amused by her reaction.

"You're such a wanton creature," he teased playfully, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. Faine squirmed in his grasp, offended by his words, but she quickly realized that there was no escaping his hold tonight. In her current condition, there was little she could do to resist him.

With a deliberate and tantalizing move, Grey leaned down and pressed his lips to her neck, kissing her slowly. He nipped gently at her skin, a sensation that sent shivers of pleasure through Faine's body and drove her wild with desire.

Faine dared to ask Grey the burning question that pressed her mind. She inquired if Sharpe was alive, seeking reassurance about her dearest friend. But as she awaited his response, a growl began to reverberate through Grey's chest as he gritted his giant teeth.

In a voice laced with fury, Grey told her in no uncertain terms, directly into her drunken ear, never to mention the male witch's name while in his arms or his territory ever again. Faine recoiled at his words, her own anger flaring as she retorted, "You left me for dead, broke my heart, kidnapped my closest confidant, and now you dare to issue me orders as if I belong to you."

But as the fiery exchange unfolded, Faine's mind was clouded by the influence of the ale and the vivid image of Grey with Wynne that had materialized in her mind's eye. Overwhelmed by a toxic blend of rage and envy that swirled within her, Faine did the unthinkable. In the span of a heartbeat, she turned back around, her fangs sinking into Grey's broad neck, as she began to drink deeply from him, a treacherously dangerous act.

Grey's initial reaction to Faine's uninvited bite was a great flinch, his instincts screaming at him to respond with violence and throw her across the house for such a brazen violation. But then, as if the world had turned upside down, the unimaginable occurred. An overwhelming rush of pleasure surged through Grey's system, unlike anything he had ever experienced in all his wildest imaginings.

The intensity of sensation was so powerful that Grey nearly lost his footing, his eyes rolling back into his head as he began to pant and sweat, overwhelmed by the intoxicating pleasure coursing through him. In a haze of unadulterated need, he didn't resist. Instead, he grabbed Faine up, straddling his waist, and carried her back to his bed, their connection deepening in ways neither of them had ever anticipated, and their already complex relationship taking an unexpected turn.

After their intense and unexpected exchange, Faine broke away, her senses returning to her. She quickly licked the wound closed on Grey's neck, sealing it. Pulling away, she breathed heavily and apologized, her voice filled with remorse. She admitted that she was sober now and asked Grey to forgive her for her behavior.

As she moved toward the open door, Faine's intention was to put some distance between them and regain her composure. However, before she could reach it, Grey had beaten her to it, slamming the door shut. He backed her up against the wall, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he leaned close, his voice a seductive whisper into her ear.

"Then bite me again," he urged, his eyes smoldering. Faine hesitated, cautioning him that it could kill him if she took too much. But Grey, ever the tease, replied, "Yes, but I will perish in utter bliss."

Lustful and confused, Faine told Grey that she didn't find it appropriate for them to engage in such intimacy considering his impending mating to Wynne. She pleaded for his forgiveness once more, reiterating that she was only there to collect the white witch and that she wouldn't be bothering him any further.

However, after she had made her intention clear, the dominant Alpha male wolf appeared in the room, a commanding presence that left no room for negotiation. In a swift and aggressive move, he tore off Faine's clothes and tossed her onto Grey's bed. His words were succinct and filled with authority as he uttered three simple words, "You were warned."

Despite her instincts urging her to rift away, something held Faine in place this time, a potent and irresistible force that defied reason and left her at the mercy of the powerful werewolf before her.

As Grey joined Faine in the bed, he pressed her lips against his throat once more, their desires intensifying. Faine, her apprehension mingling with yearning, asked him if he was sure. With a firm and unwavering assurance, Grey conveyed consent, granting his permission.

With that unspoken agreement, Faine buried her fangs into his muscled throat, and an hour passed in a haze of pleasure as she drank deeply from him. Despite the intense and prolonged exchange, the massive wolf did not weaken but seemed to grow stronger, satiating the seductive vampire warrior in every possible way. Their sensuous union continued until nearly sunrise, at which point Grey finally succumbed to a deep, restful sleep.

In the quiet moments that followed, Faine's panic and grief began to surface. She wept her red tears upon his broad chest, her heart burgeoning with guilt. Unable to bear the situation any longer, she rifted herself back to the Great Falls. This time, she bathed in the clear, healing pools, letting the soothing waters wash over her.

Afterward, Faine embarked on a journey to find a cave she remembered from years ago. It would serve as temporary lodging while she attempted to figure out how to bring Sharpe back home, where he rightfully belonged. Her path forward remained uncertain.

Grey awoke to the realization that Faine was no longer by his side. As he took in the sight of what he recalled to be her tears drying on his chest, it became clear that she had slipped away once again. In his slumber, he had experienced some of the most peaceful hours of rest he could remember, and it appeared that she had used that opportunity to escape.

A possessive determination surged through him. He knew that she was his, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and he resolved that she would no longer flee from him. In his mind, she was his precious warrior queen, and he intended to keep her by his side, now and forevermore.

Grey inhaled deeply, relishing the lingering scent of their erotic night together, the memories of their intimacy still fresh in his mind. He briefly entertained the idea of letting wild rage consume him, intent on tracking her down to retrieve her. However, with great effort, he managed to regain control of himself, recognizing that chasing her in a fit of fury would not yield the results he needed.

Grey made his way to the shower, where he wished Faine was there with him, so he could tenderly clean her and wash her long, auburn locks, savoring every second of their time. But, he shook off those thoughts, reminding himself of the pack business that needed his attention.

As he handled pack matters, he managed to avoid dealing with Wynne, for which he was grateful. With his responsibilities tended to, Grey decided to hunt and then run the borderlands, while awaiting Faine's return to collect the wretched male witch, Sharpe. He wanted her there immediately. He needed to pull her ever so close, shove his face into her hair, kiss her soft throat and dig his claws into her hips. He needed her now even if it meant releasing the detestable witch and he had little interest in other's opinions on the matter.