by C. A. Worley
“I know,” he told the vampire. “I like you, Viktor. I’m probably the only Gwydion who does. So, I feel obligated to tell you it’s not Eden’s physical safety that is most concerning to me. She is powerful and could likely handle whatever the Prajna throw at her.”
Viktor believed Edward, judging from her abnormal speed and the way she controlled her heart rate earlier.
“Then what is your concern?”
“Eden guards her heart. She does things to herself to control her emotions. It isn’t healthy, and I’ve never been able to break her of it. So, as her father, I am telling you to take care of her heart. Do nothing to damage it.”
Viktor was nonplussed. Of all the warnings he’d expected to hear from his mate’s father, he hadn’t expected this.
Part of Viktor wanted to tell Edward the bond between he and his sieva was none of Edward’s business. Maybe the elemental was brighter than Viktor knew. Viktor wasn’t known for taking care with others in word or deed.
Regardless, he would not depart with Edward feeling like Viktor would be careless with Eden’s emotions. He could be distant and cold, but he had no intention of hurting or mistreating Eden.
His cicatrice burned at the lie. Admittedly, there was one predicament in his life that would cause her grief, but they would work around it. There was no other option. No vampire would ever willingly let go of his mate once he found her.
“I will do my best. You have my word.” Viktor bowed and swiftly exited.
Edward watched the King of Prajna walk out the front entrance of the temple to wait for Eden. Foley put a hand on Edward’s shoulder.
“You do realize you just asked The Heartless King of Prajna to take care with your daughter’s heart?”
“I assure you, Foley, the irony is not lost on me.”
* * *
Eden exited the temple and came down the stairs, feeling much lighter after having a few moments with her family and enduring Evelyn’s overzealous excitement.
Her sister was a hopeless romantic, spouting off nonsense about not fighting Fate and cherishing an enduring love. Evelyn would have jumped right into the vampire’s arms in front of everyone if she’d been the one with the matching birthmark.
If their father had not been present, Eden would have assured Evelyn what she was feeling had nothing to do with love or romance and everything to do with the natural laws of attraction. Mates were meant to procreate. It was why nature saddled them with outrageously incessant physical cravings.
It didn’t stop the tiny seed of hope from planting itself firmly inside her. She cursed herself for it, but then her mark lit up and she could once again think rationally.
Eden reached the bottom of the staircase and moved towards the awaiting male. She stopped when she saw the severe sloping of Viktor’s eyebrows.
“What are you wearing?” he scolded more than asked.
She looked down at her riding breeches and tall black boots, then she inspected her shirt and cloak. Nothing seemed out of place. She took in his old-fashioned suit and wondered if he’d ever seen a woman in trousers.
“This is what I typically wear when I go riding.”
Eden looked around, expecting to see horses, but there weren’t any.
“Is your horse in the stable?” she asked.
“No. I do not travel by horse.”
He seemed on edge. More so than before. Mayhap he was afraid she could not handle hiking the terrain on foot?
“Is this the fashion of females in Gwydion?” he asked.
“For some. Do you … do you not like it?”
Viktor’s green eyes flashed brightly.
“The problem, mala vestica, is that I like it very much.”
Eden’s body thrummed in awareness that his gaze was travelling all over her figure, and he openly enjoyed what he saw. She was suddenly very hot under her heavy cloak.
Her hand drifted towards his and lightning-fast he grabbed her wrist, judiciously avoiding the end of her limb.
“Careful. This is not the time or the place to start such a thing.”
“I only meant to touch your hand.”
“Come. Once we are in Castra Nocte, I will explain things to you.”
“How far away is it?” she asked. No one, other than the vampires, knew exactly where the King of Prajna resided.
“It is on the far coast, well hidden from anyone wishing to do you harm.”
The far coast would take days on horseback. Weeks, if they had to walk.
“But how will we—”
Before she could ask about their mode of travel, Viktor had his arm around her waist. Suddenly, she was being compressed so hard she couldn’t breathe. A second later she felt a cool breeze on her skin.
“What—what was that?”
“That was how I travel. Porting is much more efficient than riding on horses, don’t you think?”
Eden looked around. They were no longer outside the temple. They were standing on a stone balcony. A single chair and small table sat nearby.
They’d ported to his castle on the eastern coast of Imperium, hundreds of miles from the temple. A snap of a finger and she was in a far-off land.
This was why Prajna had a reputation for being abnormally fast. They could cross a great distance in the span of a heartbeat. It would take some getting used to.
Seagulls cried in the distance. Eden turned her head towards the sound, but she couldn’t see past the thick mist rolling off the ocean below.
“A storm is coming. Let’s get you inside,” he said.
Viktor, still with his arm around her waist, led her through the arched doors and straight into his bedroom.
Chapter 7
Once they crossed the threshold, Viktor released his hold. Eden wanted it back, having relished the feel of his possessively firm grip. But she wasn’t sure she was ready for what would follow if she invited him to touch her.
It was dim inside the chamber, the overcast from the storm made it feel like it was dusk. There was just enough light to see.
She was curious how the King of Prajna lived, what his quarters were like. Did he find comfort here? Her eyes flicked to the bed, knowing she would not be the first to comfort the king in this space.
The bitter flavor of jealousy was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected. They’d only met today, yet it didn’t stop Eden from feeling possessive of him.
She slowly explored with her eyes, then moved about, seeking information. Her bedroom was surrounded with things that made her happy and reminded her of those she loved. She wondered which of his possessions held any sentimental value to Viktor.
The King watched as Eden walked around his chamber—their chamber—touching his things, taking in her new surroundings, her new home. He’d never imagined having a female share this room with him.
Even with Bianca, he’d intended for her to live in the Queen’s quarters, having no desire to spend time with her outside of feedings or bedding her. It would be the same arrangement they’d had for decades, only she would hold a title.
Viktor’s cicatrice burned and brought his attention back to his sieva. So easily the mark seared away reflections of another. The powers within would not tolerate any deviation from the path towards joining with his mate’s soul.
He had removed his arm from Eden the second he saw the bed, afraid he would not be able to hold back if he was touching her in any way. He’d never felt as though he wasn’t in control of his actions. The longer he was around her, the more unmanageable his compulsions became.
It was the influence of the cicatrice. It was how the Prajna knew they had found their sieva. It possessed prevailing magic to push mates into coupling, into bonding. The sooner they shared blood and completed the soul-bond, the sooner he would feel more like himself.
His fangs ached, thinking of taking Eden’s blood, and of her taking his. If not for the cicatrice on her palm, he would worry what ingesting his blood would do to an elemental. Destiny would not bring them tog
ether if they were not a match in every capacity.
The image of feeding from his mate was interrupted when Eden raised her hands and simultaneously lit all the candles in the room, then ignited the large fireplace behind him. He wondered if she knew vampires were drawn to fire.
With the illumination from the candles around the chamber, Eden could better see her surroundings. The room fit what little she knew of Viktor.
The decor was dark. Red and black tapestries hung on the walls. A black and gold quilt covered the bed. Smatterings of dark wood peaked out from the cushions covering various pieces of furniture. It was very masculine, as well as a little morbid.
What it lacked in femininity, it more than made up for in opulence. Virtually every piece of furniture was oversized and gilded in some manner.
The bed was huge, the top of each of the four posts crowned with the head of a hawk. Her elemental senses told her they were pure gold. The eyes were made of emeralds.
Numerous items secured precious jewels as decoration. Several chairs were adorned with rubies. One of the tapestries was an image of what had to be Viktor’s family crest, the outline of which looked to be lustrous, precious gems. Even the letter opener on the desk was jeweled.
Viktor was certainly living like a king. Her family’s royal dwelling was quaint in comparison. Even their castle near the Gwydion coast drew short in its simplicity.
Eden preferred simplicity.
As she circled back to where he was standing, she noticed a piece of furniture incongruous compared to the rest of his chamber. His hand was resting on the back of the large, plush chair. It was sky blue with a pattern of minute white roses. The ottoman in front of it matched. She couldn’t picture him sitting in it.
Simple and worn. It was her favorite item in the room.
Eden pointed to the chair. “This seems a little out of place. A little feminine for your tastes.”
He squeezed the soft material under his fingers, thinking back to when the previous owner used to sit in it. Eden was right, it stood out from the others.
“It was my mother’s.”
Eden swallowed. The Heartless King had a soft spot for his mother.
“She didn’t want it anymore?”
“It was of no use to her in death.”
Eden made to raise her hand to his in comfort, then thought better of it. He had warned her about touching him.
“I am sorry, Viktor.”
“No need. It was long ago.”
He ran one finger across the arm. “I’m not even sure why I dragged it in here.”
Eden understood why. It was the same reason she wore her mother’s necklace and rarely took it off.
They stood for a moment, staring at one another. His eyes made her feel unguarded, like he could see so far inside her she no longer had any secrets.
She’d spent her life ensuring the world around her only saw her exterior. Things would be different when it came to Viktor.
“Do you have any other family?” she inquired, wanting a way out from under his inspection.
“My brother, Luka. But he’s … I would prefer it if you kept your distance from him. He can be difficult, and that is putting it mildly.”
Eden wasn’t positive, but she perceived a trace of regret in his tone. She couldn’t imagine life without her doting father and loving sisters or what it would be like to be at odds with them, unable to trust a loved one.
In her peripheral, she noticed a door next to the fireplace with an odd metal lock. The paneling was made of oak, but bars of iron were evenly spaced up, down, and across, making small squares atop the natural grain of the wood. It looked like the doors in Gwydion’s jail.
She knew it wasn’t the main door to exit the room. That door was large and arched, similar to the one leading to the balcony.
“Where does that lead?” she asked, hoping to give him a reprieve from his mother’s memory.
“Nowhere,” Viktor replied, not bothering to look where she had indicated. He knew very well to what she was referring.
Eden’s mouth had gone dry under the intensity of his scrutiny. Her birthmark pulsed with an erotic heat. Its power circulated throughout her system, warming her from the inside.
It would be so easy to step into Viktor, to touch him and lose herself to his magnetic lure; but his answer bothered her.
“You don’t want me to know,” she stated.
Viktor ran his tongue across his upper teeth, debating. He wasn’t hiding anything, he simply had other things in mind to do with their time.
Eden would need to acclimate, and quickly. He wasn’t a gentleman. He rarely had consideration for his partners aside from making sure they climaxed. It made females more malleable to his sexual impulses if he allowed them to come.
With Eden, he needed to tread carefully. She was untouched—or, at least, very inexperienced—and would not know what he expected until he taught her. He hardened at the thought.
Viktor had never taken anyone’s innocence. He required experienced females to slake this thirst. For blood. For sex. For complete and total domination of their bodies.
He was confident they would be more than compatible in his bed. It was only a matter of training her. He’d also need to acclimate her to being bitten on a regular basis.
Male and female Prajna fed from one another often because they could not live without blood. They could eat the same foods as other factions, but blood was what provided the nourishment they needed to live.
Eden did not consume blood, but he wanted her to enjoy that part of their experience, to crave his as he craved hers. The exchange was an intimate experience between mates.
He’d never let a female feed from him. Sharing blood during intercourse would start the blood-bonding between those who were not true mates. He greedily drank from his partners during their interludes, but they were never allowed to take from him.
As long as it was one-sided, there was no risk of an unintentional mating. It was why he never went near Bianca’s teeth. She was ambitious, and he knew better than to allow her to ‘accidentally’ graze him.
Viktor glanced at the door.
Behind it was his feeding room. It was where he took blood almost daily. The stronger of the species required more feedings. Most Prajna could go a week or so without it. Not Viktor, especially once his cicatrice had awoken. His hunger had grown to an almost insatiable level, pushing him to find his sieva and subdue his need.
The room was also where he copulated with a plethora of Prajna females. They were never allowed in his bed. He trusted no one to be in his personal domain, especially when he was sleeping. Eden would be the first. She would also be the last.
Viktor walked to the door and scrolled through the lock’s symbols until the combination released the pin. He swung the door open with one arm and held it. It was an open invitation for Eden to enter.
As she stepped in front of him, her arm grazed his stomach. Viktor bent, putting his mouth to her ear.
“Careful what you ask for, Sieva, especially when I am inclined to give it to you.”
Chapter 8
Eden shuddered at his breath tickling her ear and the reminder she was his mate. She pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth to prevent any sound from escaping her lips. She focused on the dark room before her.
This room had no windows, and, thus, was much darker than the bedroom. She could make out the candelabras inside and used her magic to light them.
The flames flickered brightly. There had to be well over a hundred candles lining the walls. Once she realized what was inside the room, she considered snuffing them out.
In the middle was a bed, covered in only a dark sheet. No pillows, no blankets, just the sheet.
To the left was a wooden chair. Or, she thought it was a chair. The seat was awfully small. It had rope attached to the arms and legs and was tilted so that whomever sat in it was reclined. It was also high off the ground. She would have to be lifted to sit in it.
/> To the right of the bed was a couch, of sorts. It was narrow and oddly shaped, looking like the back of a serpent, or a rolling wave. It would provide a comfortable position in which to lounge and read, but she knew this item of furniture was not meant for reading.
There were chains and cuffs attached to the walls in various spots, anchored to the grooves within the stone. Shelving stood near another door, which she presumed exited into the hall. It held a dozen or so towels. She’d never seen black towels before.
Eden may not have known much in the ways of sex, but she was intelligent and had a perfectly good imagination, one that was now giving her quite a show inside her head.
She should be frightened, not intrigued. She imagined his teeth penetrating her skin, how it would feel. Would he cuff her to the wall, so she could not flee? What else would he do to her?
Eden pictured countless Prajna coming and going from this room to service their king. She knew they offered more than their veins. How many of them had he allowed into his bed of gold?
“Why do you have this room? Why—why is it important enough to be attached to your bed chamber?”
Viktor tried to see it through her virginal eyes. It was fairly obvious what occurred in here. Sex often followed a feeding, and he almost always partook of what was so freely offered.
Eden, of course, would have to become accustomed to his bite, as well as to whatever preceded and followed. He was guessing she lacked knowledge of what a Prajna’s bite was like, that it could be highly pleasurable.
“This is my feeding room,” he told her.
“Your feeding room.”
“Yes.”
“This is where you … drink from others?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why do I feed from others or why do I do it here?”
“I know why you feed. You need blood to live. Why here?”
Viktor shrugged. “I do not care to have anyone in my personal quarters.”
Eden tensed, thinking he did not intend to have her share his room. “Is this where I am to sleep, then? In your feeding room?”