Ewan stood, still and mesmerized, beneath the castle window. It was the darkening hour, around midnight, when his longing was greatest. Not the longing to feed, no. He had satisfied that some hours before, from his stash of blood red vials he kept in the cellar beneath the expansive orchards of this vast abode. The hunger and longing which brought him to this very window each night at the same hour was caused by Elysia, a princess in Sir Douglas’s castle, and the fairest maid ever to set foot in all the land of Scotland.

The year was 1381, a year of splits, of divisions, in the dynastic house of Douglas. The two eldest brothers could not stop feuding constantly, over what else but the love of a girl, the pale and fair maiden Vanessa from the house of Canton to the north. Vanessa, in fear of losing not only her heart but her very life if she married either, ended up wedding a young man from the Trippian household to the east. The rift between the brothers caused them to split into two branches, the “black Douglases,” and the “red Douglases.” The current clan leader within the Tantallon castle was Sir Bruce Douglas, the junior of the two dissenting brothers.

Elysia had shown up on the Douglas’s doorsteps, years before, around eight years of age, most surmised. She had been wet from the gale force storm that had raged that evening, and almost comatose from lack of food or proper attire. The maids took the little girl in, and she was so fair of face and graceful in temperament, that she was soon made into their own little princess, with her own title drafted. Princess Elysia grew in both beauty and poise, and drew upon the hearts of many men. When the split occurred, Elysia chose to go with Bruce, for she was closer to him by far, and they had a strong familial bond that was closer than any blood ties.

She was now eighteen years, and full of the passion and fervor that life brings at that age. Ewan had watched her grow up and lately become increasingly fascinated by both her body and her demeanor. He loved her; his heart was forever tortured and captivated. There was a slight catch and dilemma, however, for Ewan was a vampire. Doomed to remain young, pale, and a lover of moonlight, as he watched those he grew to love age and pass on. It was a soul torturing existence, and one he did not handle well at times. Ewan did not like to think about how he came to be in his current state, and kept that dark and distant memory tucked far back in his mind as much as possible. He was now 187 years of age, by human standards.

Ewan was known to Elysia as the stable boy, the one who groomed and maintained her favorite horse, Ebony. Black as midnight, but for white rings that went around each of her legs above the hooves, she was beautiful. And spirited. No one really enjoyed riding her, ‘cepting Elysia. The two seemed to have a strong attachment to one another. Ewan was the one who taught her to ride, giving her some moments of happiness in the beginning. ‘That was back when Elysia didn’t smile much,’ he mused. She was tortured with nightmares for almost a year, and everyone tried not to think of the poor girl’s past, and what horrors she had possibly faced before she got to the castle gates a soaked and disconsolate mess.

Ewan always listened, outside Elysia’s bedroom door some nights, others beneath her window; always guarding, always protecting. Over time, his heart grew more and more fond of her, and soon he knew his heart was hers for good, as love of epic proportions took hold. In those times, the times of the Vampires of the Aeyoin, once a vampire’s heart belonged to someone, it was sealed, no going back. They did not have to worry over fear of the sun back then; it was the fear of their hearts that was of the utmost concern. They fiercely tried to guard against falling in love at all.

Poor Ewan fell however, and fell deep, headfirst into the abyss, abandoning himself to it. He was her protector, her ageless, beautiful protector, and she was the light and love of his life. With a vampire’s devoted love comes fierce desire and need, sharper and more poignant than any a human might feel. In the still, dark hours of the night, the hunger always hit him hard, and he had to fight not to go into her bedchamber and assuage its rampant appetite.

The nights built one on another, nights he would spend watching over her, fondness in the beginning, to the blossoming of love, to the heated passion of desire that had driven him crazy more recently. Ewan felt consumed with guilt, for he knew of none more pure and full of light than Elysia. Her smile pierced his soul every time she aimed it his direction, which was often. They talked of everything and nothing sometimes, enjoying each other’s company, often slipping away from the demands of the castle on their horses, taking off for the vast green fields beyond.

They were each other’s favorite source of companionship, and Ewan wondered at times, when she looked at him in certain ways, or even in her little glances, whether she loved him to any degree. He kept his desire at bay, and his love for her hidden, at least he hoped. Ewan didn’t know how she might handle the truth, and he did not want to live without her presence in his life. So he kept his inner turmoil to himself, and fought every night for control.

This night would turn out differently, however. Ewan sat just beneath the window, lost in some thoughts and trying to fight others as usual, when he saw a shadow steal inside. Immediately, he was on dead alert, and crept onto the windowsill, his vampire eyes piercing the darkness within. A candle illuminated golden eyes, and he recognized the intruder as a small wolf, probably one from the pack that howled out along the moors not too far away.

Carefully, stealthily, he crept toward the wolf, making an effort to try and not wake the sleeping Elysia.

The wolf growled, but Ewan persisted, eyes looking into eyes. Perhaps the wolf felt some sort of kinship to Ewan’s kind, or perhaps Ewan managed to stare him down at last. Either way, Ewan won, and the wolf crept out of the room as quietly as it had come in.

The realization hit Ewan that he was now in Elysia’s bedroom, forbidden territory for sure. One look, he would just get one look at her sleeping form, then make his way out once more to his watchful place. That one look was to prove his undoing. For that look led to the touching of her long, golden hair, framing her face on the pillow, which led to his fingers tracing along her face, which led to her waking, and the realization that he was there with her at such an hour, which led to eyes looking deeply into eyes in the candlelight.

Ewan could not leave, but instead was held fast, transfixed by her intense gaze. Her arms reached out to him instinctively, and he fell into her embrace, his lips finding hers, soft, warm, and yielding. His kiss began softly, searchingly, then the pent up hunger and passion erupted, and he kissed her deeply, tasting all of her mouth at once it seemed, drinking her in, not able to get enough.

Elysia responded, soft moans escaping her lips, her nails finding their way beneath his shirt. He divested himself of it quickly, relishing the feel of her touch on his skin. Ewan’s skin was on fire, as he deeply felt every touch, every scratch, and his entire body was acutely aware of her scent, and it was driving him insane. Vampires and their enhanced sense of smell and touch were responsible for his current state of mind. So long had he desired this contact with his beloved Elysia, but never daring to cross the line for fear of losing her. Yet here she was, yielding to him, desiring him. It was overwhelming.

Slowly, he made his way down her body, her nightgown gone in an instant, so he could revel in her beauty. His mouth followed his hands, in complete adoration of every part of her, the graceful curve of her neck, the slender shoulders, her full breasts which seemed perfectly formed for his hands and mouth. So long did he spend, sucking, licking, biting at her breasts, that he left her breathless. Ewan was fighting hard to keep the beast part of him at bay, wanting to try and relish each and every exquisite moment before the rush of passion sought its fulfillment. It was difficult; he grew painfully aroused just feeling her body beneath him.

Eventually, he worked downward to her soft, flat stomach, tracing every curve with his tongue, hearing her breath coming faster, feeling her movements beneath him as she sought a release she had never felt before. Determined to make her first time with a man the best it could possibly be, he continued with urgent, feverish kisses along her skin, making his way down to the center of her womanhood. Elysia’s state of arousal caused her scent to become stronger, and Ewan began to wonder if he would be able to contain himself long enough to satisfy her to the level he wished before abandoning himself completely in the tide of his vampire desire. Swiftly, he delved into her mound, his tongue probing, tasting her sweetness for the first time.

Elysia’s body tensed, and her legs began to quiver, words of passion escaping her lips. Her hands went into his hair, pulling, tugging. Ewan’s strong hands went around her body, one over the top of her right thigh, and one beneath her left, fingers wrapping around her so that he held her firmly in place as he began building her slowly to her first climax of that nature. His right thumb slowly caressed her folds, opening them like a fragile flower as his tongue began tasting deeper, thrusting and dancing within her core. Her hands clenched his head, keeping him close, her legs trembled even more, squeezing his head lightly, her feet on his back. Ewan was in heaven, lost in the sensation of taste, touch, smell. Closer and closer, he drew her to the edge, and a few precious moments later he had to cover her mouth as she moaned loudly, her orgasm washing over her like the tide, while he finally savored her sweet nectar, not leaving a single drop.

Oh she was astounding, he thought. His mind reeling, he moved his way up her body, his mouth finding hers. She tasted herself on his tongue, as he kissed her deeply, passionately. Slowly, he maneuvered his body on top of her, spreading her legs, and letting her feel his manhood pressing against her wetness. Looking her deep in the eyes by the light of the candle, Ewan eased himself inside her, and she moaned, full of longing, as she got used to his size. He quickly broke her seal, causing her to only wince slightly, showering her in kisses as he did so. Ewan began with slow, rhythmic movements of his body, his eyes never leaving hers, building and building as his vampire desire began to take a stronghold, until he could no longer contain himself and began thrusting hard and fast. Elysia climaxed suddenly, caught unawares, and he felt her entire core tighten around him. 

That finished him; he was gripped in the most powerful, intense orgasm he’d ever experienced in all his hundred plus years. Ewan was lost in her, floating in the space between spaces, where nothing but feeling exists. Finally, he sensed her hands, holding him tight, as their bodies remained intertwined. He looked at her, trying to form the words to tell her of his love, of his condition.

She surprised him by the soft words that came, “I know Ewan, I know about you. I’ve always known. And I love you, have for a long time.”

And he was utterly and completely content in the fact that he belonged to her...

Author's Note: This story was inspired by a poem from GreyHound.