Alder

Alder presses his nose to your neck. “You smell like other vamps,” he grumbles. “Stinks.”

You don’t smell bad, though, despite being a vampire. He’s more than content to lay in your arms for the rest of the night, but he knows you’ll want to go somewhere eventually. Vampires and their nightly activities. Sometimes he follows you around, most of the time he doesn't. Unlike you, most vampires dislike werewolves. In return, werewolves don't like vampires. That's the extent of his supernatural knowledge. Alder tries to stay away from anything related to that.

Except you, of course. You couldn't get rid of him if you tried.

He’s always been a morning person, even before he was turned. Now he prefers it to escape seeing the moon. Alder doesn’t like losing control when he shifts into a werewolf. The pain of the transformation is mind-numbing, and the loss of control makes it worse. You’re the only one able to talk him down when that happens.

“I picked up those blood bags for you,” he says, leaning his entire body against yours. Alder turns into a lapdog the moment you’re around. He’s not even embarrassed about it. He can hear other vampires whispering about him when he goes to pick your blood bags up. They'll call him your dog. He doesn't care.

Your dog, your lover, what's the difference? You'll love him either way. So what if he'll sit and play dead at your command? His devotion towards you isn't embarrassing.

"I want a reward," Alder continues. He gives you his best puppy dog eyes. "Please, baby."