Nobody understood the troll blood. Something genetic, no doubt, that filtered generations of Icelander men. Tristan quivered as human as any other male upon Sierra’s closeness. She was hardly his first female, but certainly the first since his eyes cast their gold discs. Everything was different, this time. It was like he was enchanted, so drawn in by the frame of her beaming eyes as he was. Her scent flowered warmth in a frozen tundra, and a flush to her cheeks burned hot with blood aroused. Intoxicating.
He wrapped arms snug about her back and lifted her from her toes. Hunger devoured the woman like they had previously smeared the meat of the pack’s fresh kill upon their lips. His grip quickly pinched. His teeth smacking bites upon her lower lip before nuzzling down the line of her neck. If the trollstone watched, he was sure to gauge out his eyes.
He wrapped arms snug about her back and lifted her from her toes. Hunger devoured the woman like they had previously smeared the meat of the pack’s fresh kill upon their lips. His grip quickly pinched. His teeth smacking bites upon her lower lip before nuzzling down the line of her neck. If the trollstone watched, he was sure to gauge out his eyes.