Entering the bedroom, I pause at the flurry of obsessive cleaning that greets me. While the room was not dirty by any stretch of the word, it could have used light dusting and was filled to the brim with curiosities. Where I find it incredibly comforting and very much 'Stefan,' Verando seemed to think it was a form of torture. 

I spy him stretched on his toes as Stefan is a healthy few inches taller and capable of flying, carefully adjusting a few figurines to face forward instead of their haphazard arrangement of various directions. 

As the door opened, he startled and settled quickly back onto his heels, as if caught doing something naughty.

"I think you have a problem." I muse, setting the tray down carefully on the antique writing desk. Trailing my finger over its surface, I see he's already wiped it off. I'm not foolish enough to think that he takes any particular joy in this activity; it's a coping mechanism, the only thing he can control.

 At least when my world is spiraling, I can rely on Verando to be constant. 

"I made you dinner. Nonoptional dinner." I tell him as pleasantly as I can manage. 

Verando approaches, embarrassed, he obediently cuts off a piece and takes a bite. "You don't normally catch me in the middle of my vices." 

This is true, I really hadn't noticed he was a clean fanatic until much later in our relationship. When I met him, he was blood-soaked and covered in dirt.

"I'm just glad you're not smoking." Snagging a piece of bell pepper, I chew thoughtfully as I sit on the bed that is acceptably soft though not quite what we have grown accustomed to. "Stefan has agreed to meet with us tomorrow morning and discuss whatever intel he has gained over the years. Hopefully, he will have something we can use. Very curious that vampires and Strigoi don't get along?"

Verando nods, taking another bite. It's a compliment to my cooking that he doesn't find a way to excuse his hunger casually. My eyes trail over the carefully tucked-in shirt, now slightly disheveled from being stretched by his reach. His rolled-up sleeves accentuated his forearms. 

"I figured he would at least give us advice; it seems to be what Stefan likes to do. I'm not surprised at all about the vampires, though. I don't think I would get along with my past self, either. Werewolves are free, save for one night a month, but they're completely out of control on that night. Given what we know about modern-day vampires, they seem quite feral compared to Strigoi?"

Murmuring a quick spell, I hold out my hand to bring the plate of vegetables to me. "Stefan likes to be useful. Regardless, maybe that's an angle we can use. No humans means no food for a lot of species. Also, I promised him you'd sing with him." 

I bite my lower lip before snagging another piece of bell pepper. Verando cocks an eyebrow, knowing I wasn't finished with my demands.

"As much as he wants."

Thankfully, he doesn't necessarily look perturbed by this information. "When you say it like that, it makes me think perhaps we are on the wrong side. How are we going to convince a nation to side with equality when half of our 'help' wants to eat them?" He unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops and carefully winding it. "What did he think about your chill?" 

I part my lips, and he gives me a knowing look. He brought up a very valid point: how could we coexist when it would mean deaths to keep a piece of our population alive? Stefan's words twinge in my ears; the wolf is reading me. "He had a few theories... Are you spying on me?" I ask him suspiciously, resting the plate on the bed.

"I'm nearly 20 years older than you; if you think you can pull a fast one on me you're sadly mistaken. I've got ridiculously good hearing. Do you think I sat up here and didn't eavesdrop? You're truly like a bunch of old birds the way you gossip. I'm going to need more than that, darling." 

I shrug, crossing my arms loosely as I look him over. "Or you could be reading my mind," I tell him frankly. His expression almost makes me crack, and I force myself to keep the tone of my interrogation serious.

Verando exhales in exasperation, I must be looking particularly accusing. "I would be in much less of a bind if that were the truth; you're a right pain in the ass when you want to be. Like right now. Do you think I'd do half the shit I do, given I could just have a look about and know the answer you're looking for?" 

I take no offense, I am just enjoying my tiny bit of self-inflicted chaos. It was worth a shot. His long fingers begin working the buttons on his shirt, dismissing me. 

"I know you, but I'm not a bloody mind reader. Seriously, Nic, you've lost your damned mind with this one."

The words make me pause, and I stand up to cross the small space between us. "What am I thinking right now?"

"For the love-" Verando pushes past me to grab the plate off the bed and straighten out where I was sitting. "I'm going to bed."

I wasn't convinced of his innocence yet, even if it was unintentional. He was not in 'my' world; he couldn't tell me what I wanted to know because I couldn't ask him in a way he could fathom. Chewing my lower lip, I ponder this as he sets the plate back on the tray. Often, it was as if he knew what I was thinking before I could get it out; one could say it was because he knew me better than anyone else.

 As I circle the possibilities, one continuously stands out. Whitewind hadn't dared to show his face until only recently. There was enough energy to climb out of the depths and show himself.

 The only other time he had done that was when I had expended all of my energy to kill Corina. 

Perhaps Stefan was onto something? Curious, I think of my mother, her death, and the pain it brings me. Without looking at me, I see his shoulders sag in defeat, "Darling, I don't mean to snap at you. I'm just tired. Whenever I think of mind reading, I think of our past dealings with mind control, which isn't a comfortable place for either of us." He turned to face me, and I stared at him, trying to comprehend if I was putting too much thought into this. 

"How did you know I was upset?" I demand, trying to keep my tone light.

Running a hand through his hair, I know I'm reaching the ends of his patience. "You were quiet? You're never quiet? I've been trying to teach you the art of silence since I met you?" 

At least I have a piece of him back with his sarcasm. But he didn't look at me; he couldn't see it on my face, and I wasn't upset. I was purposefully making myself feel upset. 

I near him, wrapping my arms around his waist to lay my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. "I don't mean to poke at you-"

 It sounds silly now to say it out loud. 

"At the risk of sounding horrendously offensive, it never made sense to me how in tune you can be. You're often right about people's intentions without hardly speaking to them. A sixth sense would be quite useful."

Verando's fingers trail lightly over my back as he considers this, resting his chin on my head. "People wear their intentions quite clearly if you allow them to show you." 

The low tone is soothing; he holds me against his chest, relaxing against my touch just as I melt against him. 

"Consider those thoughts as why humans reject magical beings. I know you mean well; your thirst for knowledge is one of the things I love about you, but dissecting people down to explain why they aren't unique, talented, or rightfully obsessed with their partner,  isn't exactly a well-received thought process." 

"Does it offend you?" I peek up at him.

Verando considers this, "No, but I'm not one to spare feelings. Just something to consider, we will attempt to rebuild another nation. It's not the same fight as last time."

Feeling ridiculous, I hide my face in his chest, enjoying his scent. I changed the topic back to the wolf and explained myself a bit. It isn't like him to care how people perceive us, and it's admittedly thrown me off guard. 

"Stefan thinks you're pulling magic off of me with the wolf. With dragons, we must give magic to keep them. I thought it was just your warmth keeping me from freezing all the time, but I think it might be your grandfather's spirit using me to charge himself.  I think our connection goes deeper than we like to think." 

Unimpressed, he almost seems to find me amusing. "And you think I'm reading your mind and making an ass out of myself on purpose?"

With a groan, I slip away from him to flop onto the bed. "I don't know, Randy." It sounded better in my head; it felt like a much more viable option before he accused me of being insensitive."I'm just trying to make sense of it all. We're trying to be honest with each other; this is me trying."

In silence, he sits on the bed beside me; I feel the weight and allow my body to be carried by it. Rolling onto my side, I glance up at him from the corner of my eye. Carefully, he adjusts my hair to see my face more clearly. "I don't think it's you who had a problem with honesty."

"I'm sure it's nothing. We need to keep it managed. What we're doing is working; I will figure it out when we get out of this." Sitting up, I fall against him, his weight pulling me easily off-balance, given the laxity in the mattress. I clear my throat to distract myself from his body's warmth and his lips' closeness to mine. 

"In the meantime... we could do with some practice and meditation. We need to establish clear channels to communicate with Whitewind openly. I'd rather not have a repeat of the massacre in the compound if I can help it." 

For once, he doesn't look like he wants to jump into the fray. My usually willing warlord almost looks forlorn; extending my hand, I skirt the back of my fingers over his cheek. Capturing my hand with his, he kisses my palm. 

"It's okay to be worried. We're going to figure this out. I'm not going to let anything happen to you." I clutch his hand tightly, shoving him back onto the bed and straddling his hips as my hands crash against his chest. 

Verando grunts painfully, arching off the sore shoulder but allowing the intrusion. Those light eyes take in every inch of my face, jaw tight. He was spiraling with concern for me, and I couldn't stand it. 

"Do not even start with that. Randy, I haven't discussed this with you because I don't want to think about it now. We have too much going on to worry about my damn temperature."

This does little to appease him; I traced my fingers roughly back up his torso. With little effort, I coax a sigh from him, heavy on his lips. It wasn't often he bowed to my will given the circumstances, stress tended to put him off anything but rough play. 

I take advantage, rolling my palms greedily into the pectoral muscles that warm my chilled hands. "Are you sure you're not reading my mind?" He asks dryly, his breath hitching as I trail a finger down the line of his abdominals, stopping just before his navel. 

Considering this, I tilt my head once more as if it might give me a better understanding. "I'm not sure; think of something and stay relaxed." I would get to the bottom of this one way or another. 

A small smile curls onto his lips. "Do you know the first method one would use to make someone not relax? Telling them to relax." 

My hand slips up to clutch his throat, knowing his preferences and feeling him shiver under my fingertips. 

"Shut up and do it," I demand. 

Shutting his eyes, he tilts his head back as I trace patterns on the planes of muscles. His arms stretched above his head, hands loose, lips parted in anticipation. His body felt alive and vibrant, electric under my fingertips. I'd often trailed my fingers over these same lines, memorizing them as I reached out with my mind's eye. 

I wet my lips, drinking him in, "Do you remember when you tortured me to get information out of me?" 

His body grows rigid. 

"I recall giving you an incredible evening?" He suggests a correction for my poor memory. 

Lowering to trace my nose over his collarbone, I kiss the base of his neck, dragging my teeth over the tanned skin. "To achieve this, I need strong thoughts and complete cooperation. So I need you to play along." 

Impulsively, I stretch to bite his bicep through the thin material of the shirt, straddling those sinful hips. In a quick movement, he pounces, pinning me beneath him as he kisses me. I clutch his neck, lost for a moment, only to hear him curse and feel him nearly collapse onto me. He catches himself on his knees and right arm, favoring the left. 

"Which means you have to behave." I remind him I exhale, breathless.

Much as he liked to have his way, I shoved him, climbing on top of him again as I took in my canvas for the evening. "Maybe this is a bad idea." Verando manages, though I can feel the hesitation in his voice without any need for mind reading. It was an almost half-hearted tone, tempting me to play with him and encouraging me to push his limits.

"Mmm, it is past your bedtime." I tease, lazily running my nails over his exposed chest. I marvel at the lines it makes, running my tongue over my teeth. "Maybe this is the perfect time to practice? You can't move and distract me." In one quick move, I pop the button on his pants, "Oops. I suppose it was for the best; this seems like it wants out." I grope him beneath the jeans, fondling the sizeable bulge in my hand.

His gaze falls warily on me, bordering between turned on and offended. I can tell by the response beneath my hovering seat that I have his interest. He was playing coy, uncertain if he wanted to entertain me, yet I knew him too well to think he could turn me away.

Verando stretched his arms over his head, dragging his fingers through his hair, flexing his arms in a way that made my mouth water.  I catch the playful glint in his eye, smirking as he rolls his hips upward against me until I shove him back down with my hand on his navel.

"How do I always end up in this position with you? I've never given in to anyone, yet in moments, you have me exactly where you want me. If you are considering mind control, I suggest you look inward."  

With a grin, I hook my thumbs into the loops of his pants and jerk them down, sliding with them to the edge of the bed. "That one is straightforward; there's no magic there." I kiss the inside of his knee as I slowly climb my way back up his body, dragging a trail with my lips up his inner thigh. "I belong to you, just as you belong to me."

 As he writhes beneath me, my hand finds his cock, and I'm pleased to remember that he had to forgo underwear. "Besides, nobody knows you as I do." 

I stroke upward, grasping him firmly in my hand. His body grows rigid under my touch, responding to me just how I'd hoped he would. He was too tired to play 'Alpha'; I would happily settle for my Randy.

Foreplay wasn't my specialty; I was more interested in getting to the part that satisfied me most. Yet, as my mouth closes around him and I drag my tongue across the sensitive skin, hearing him groan in appreciation, I find my body pleads for more. I wish for him to make all the sounds he coaxed from me, as I'm not often rewarded with such participation. 

I hum in appreciation against him, earning myself a hand tangled in my hair, caressing more than holding me in place, yet his palm encourages me lower as I swallow more of him. I want more, need more.

Not wanting to lose the purpose of the exercise, I release him from the torment of my mouth when I feel the tremble in his breathing, allowing him to come back down from near completion.

"Do you feel relaxed?" I tease, casually trailing my fingers over the sensitive skin. 

"I wouldn't say relaxed is how I feel." He manages, though his experience is almost disappointing; Verando was much more capable of riding the cool-down than I was. "You wicked thing."

I chuckle, kissing his thigh affectionately. "All part of the game, babe. I have to admit, this is sexy. I'm starting to get a taste for this whole dominant thing. Though, you're a whore of a wife, considering how hungry you are for me to torment you. You're too good at this; any normal man would desire completion; you seem to want me to be mean to you." 

While my words catch him off guard, I see his cheeks darken as if he were caught red-handed. The tangles of gray hair fall towards his eyes, sultry, messy, eyes burning as he considers his options. "What're you going to do about it?" He grins, propping up on his elbow.

At that moment, all is forgotten; my goal slips through my fingers. Crawling up his body, I throw my arms around his neck, cursing under my breath as he flinches under the impact and quickly releasing him to support myself. Meanwhile, I'm kissing him like I might never get this opportunity again. The taste of him, the way his lips melt so perfectly into mine. "It's ok. It doesn't hurt that bad." He manages, encouraging me.

"You're such a masochist." I exhale through my teeth, sitting up quickly to scramble out of my pants while he hooks his thumbs in the loops and appears tempted to shred them. "Don't you dare." I snap, narrowing my eyes at him as I climb off the bed to go to the suitcase and grab the lubricant. 

Verando drags me back the moment I'm within reach. I place one hand on his shoulder while my knees support my weight, using my fingers to prepare myself with the lubricant. Tedious as it was, I knew better than to jump right into sex with this sinful man. His lips meet mine, and he claims my mouth with his tongue.

Gripping his throat, I shove him back onto the bed to hold him beneath me; Verando reaches up to collect my jaw, slipping two fingers into my mouth as I clutch his wrist with my other hand. I lower myself onto him, sinking my teeth into his fingers as we moan in unison. My intentions had all been forgotten, it was a silly idea, one that I would explore more tomorrow when I didn't have a god beneath me.

I suck on his fingers, loosening my hold on his throat to dig my nails into his shoulder. I must have hit a sore spot, for before I knew it he was before me. 

In a quick maneuver, Verando manages to flip us so that I'm on my back, and he towers over me on his knees. Wide-eyed, I look up as innocently as I can manage as his hands grip the backs of my thighs, exposing me to him. "Now who's the whore wife?" He muses, sinking into me, and making me cry out as I quickly cover my mouth. My thighs tremble as I attempt to control my volume, each stroke slow and merciless. "You take it too well to be a dominant. This is where you prefer, beneath me."

Rolling my thighs to the side, pressing them together, he grips my hip to pull me back into him, his other arm wrapped under my knees. It's everything I can do to keep from melting, sinking my teeth into the back of my hand as he fills me. The position was deeper than I anticipated, and my thighs pressing together only accentuated every stroke. I curl my toes; close to the edge, gripping the bed sheets over my head.

But, much as I was at my limit, he was also at his. I could tell he was sore by his reluctance to take me as a form of punishment for my audacity. The slow, hard, deep lovemaking I was subjected to was better than I deserved for how I'd questioned him. "Gods, Nic." He manages through his teeth, hovering over me on his hands as he finishes. His satisfaction brings me to completion, and I'm left a trembling mess beneath him. 

"The things you do to me..." He murmurs, kissing my temple, then my nose, then finally my lips. I'm too limp to respond, just attempting to catch my breath from trying to conceal my pleasure for so long. For once, he tosses the articles of clothing to the floor as he climbs back into bed. Dragging me with him, I'm happy to cuddle my back up to his chest as he trails his fingers over my side. 

"You look content." Verando kisses the nape of my neck, those warm hands kneading the aching muscles of my thighs. It was one of the few moments I was happy to be so much smaller than him; I fit perfectly for him to enclose me with warmth. I practically melted, enjoying the way his fingers trailed over my body.

"Quite. Thanks for humoring me." In my fading moments of consciousness, I wrap his arm firmly around me to trap him in place as my heater. "We're sleeping in tomorrow; don't even think about sneaking off."