by C. A. Worley
He frowned. “Of course not.”
“Will I have a separate room?”
“No,” his voice boomed, causing her to flinch. He immediately reigned in his displeasure, softening his speech.
“No, Eden. My sieva is welcome in my room. The others are not.”
Unable to stop herself, she smiled, beyond pleased with this information. It was almost sweet that his bed was only for her.
Viktor swore his heart stopped at the sight of her beaming up at him. He dug his fingernails into his palms, needing to find a way to avoid slicing through her clothing and taking her against the stone wall.
He pictured cuffing her, commanding her actions as he commanded her pleasure. How long would it take her to submit? She was nowhere near ready for what he wanted her to give him.
Eden cleared her throat and pointed to the unconventional furniture. “This room is not solely used for feeding, is it?”
The hulking male’s eyebrows drew down and together, not liking where his mate’s questions were headed. It was easily discernible what occurred when he utilized the equipment in this place. Eden was going to make him say it aloud.
Being bluntly honest, which he’d told himself he’d be, was more difficult than expected. It didn’t help that his resistance to her was waning.
“No. It is not solely used for feeding.”
She nodded, processing his answer. Her left hand rubbed absently along her collar bone, deep in thought.
Viktor felt like a piece of her had withdrawn. He disliked it, but for now he would allow it. They had time for Eden to learn how to answer his demands—and he would demand she give him everything.
He stared as she stroked the delicate skin below her neck. He zeroed in on the artery pulsating above her finger tips. He was close to losing it. The cicatrice would not stop him. It wanted him to push inside her, to lap up her lifeblood, and bond his soul to hers.
“You need to leave,” he announced.
Eden’s mouth dropped open.
“Now, Eden.”
Before she could reply, he had her by the elbow, dragging her back into his bedchamber. Eden jerked her arm away, upset at being manhandled, and her mark quickly sent out its calming vibes.
“Do not be upset,” he ordered, locking the door behind him. “It is very distracting having you in that room. It’s easier for me to talk to you in here.”
“You didn’t like me asking questions.”
“Your questions do not bother me. Having you in the room I use for feeding and for … sating many appetites, well, let’s just say I doubt your ability to handle the answer to that question. If I were you, I would give up this topic of conversation.”
Eden wasn’t some immature child. She wanted truth. She could handle his truth. If she was his destined mate, that was how it would have to be. She resented him a little for treating her as though she was less capable than the females he’d had in his feeding room.
At the contemplation of those who had come before her, her palm tingled, transferring its peaceful magic again. This time, she didn’t want it to alter her mental state. She worried it would prevent her from having an honest dialog with Viktor.
She would leave it be, as he suggested. For now. But only because she had a more compulsory line of questioning.
She held her palm up in front of his face. “Why is it, every time I am riled, this birthmark lights up and calms me down? And why am I so quick to anger in the first place? I am never emotional. The longer I am in your presence the more I feel this back-and-forth pull.”
Clever little witch, he thought. Instead of trusting her emotions, she catalogued and analyzed the change in them. They were very well-suited.
“Lower you hand, Eden.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he replied, holding up his left hand, which was still emitting the soft light from earlier. “I want to grab it with my own. If I do so, your question will go unanswered until much later, if at all. We’ll be so caught up in one another, I doubt you’ll even remember what you wanted to know.”
Eden lowered her arm, comprehending his meaning. Then she remembered she was in her riding clothes and reached into the pocket of her cloak.
Viktor watched as Eden extracted a leather glove from within her cloak. She waved it in front of him, her lips shaping into a self-satisfied smirk. Then she slid her fingers into the opening.
It would cover the cicatrice completely. She really was sharp as a tack. It made her all the more attractive.
Her small hand pulled at the leather, sliding it down to her wrist until it was securely in place. It would help, but only for so long. Sooner or later, the cicatrice would ensure the soul-bond took place, whether they wanted it or not.
Eden removed her cloak and put it on the bench next to the door. Then she dropped into the chair on the opposite side of the fireplace from the blue wingback and indicated he should also sit. Viktor remained standing.
“Please?” she requested.
Viktor liked hearing ‘please’ come from her mouth, so he lowered himself into the chair. She would be saying the word again. Soon.
“Will you help me understand what’s happening to me?”
“Very well.”
“Thank you,” she exhaled. Finally, some answers!
“As I told you in the temple, the marking is what the Prajna call a cicatrice. We are all born with one. Our sievas, our true mates, are born with the identical mark. When we touch them together and exchange blood, we will be bonded. It is important, Eden, for you to understand Fate chose you as mine from the time of your birth.”
“Which would mean you were mine, as well, yes?”
Viktor smirked.
“Yes. Though, it is extremely rare for a sieva to not be a vampire. A handful of demon mates have been found, but I have not heard of anyone from Gwydion bearing the mark.”
“Yes, well, we are the only faction to be born without a pre-ordained mate.”
Viktor’s smirked vanished. “I would think, with your sister being a true mate to a wolf, and you being my sieva, that statement is not entirely accurate.”
Evelyn’s face popped into Eden’s mind. If anyone would be open to such a notion as fated mates, it would be Evelyn. She’d acted all starry-eyed over Nora’s experience and almost envious of Eden’s.
If the powers of the universe created a mate for her sweet Evie, her sister would run into his arms and ask questions later. Eden wasn’t quite so fanciful in her concept of love.
“The cicatrice?” she prodded.
“Yes, well, it is first and foremost how one knows he or she has found their intended,” he paused, wanting to choose his next words carefully. He would not risk Eden misinterpreting its effects on her disposition.
“What else is it, other than a means to make me question my sanity?”
Viktor chuckled, and Eden thought it the most wonderful sound she had ever heard. She had a feeling it did not happen often.
“Trust me, I understand your frustration. It makes you question if you ever felt what you knew you had been feeling. But that is the magic of the cicatrice. Its power will placate its bearer, wanting to ensure there is no animosity between mates.”
“Why? It sounds almost like trickery.”
Viktor narrowed his eyes. “It is not trickery. It is insurance that the soul-bonding will occur in a timely fashion. Once it does, the power it has over your emotions will fade.”
It was temporary. Thank the Goddess.
“So, my . . . annoyance will also be more manageable?”
Viktor chuckled again. “Doubtful. The cicatrice mollifies you, erasing your vexations. It would not push you into feeling such negative emotions. That, my dear Eden, is all you.”
Chapter 9
“More like it’s a result of being near you,” she muttered in response.
Eden gulped as the huge male was suddenly in front of her, one hand on each thigh, holding them apart, as he knelt between the V of her legs. He had moved so
fast, he must have ported. Her heart pounded, and she used her magic to force the oxygen in her bloodstream to slow its speed.
“Do not do that,” Viktor snarled and tightened his grip on her thighs.
“Do what?” she whispered, adrenaline flooding her system. Her skin felt tight as her hormones surged.
“Whatever you are doing to your heart. It’s contracting, and you are denying it its natural response. You could harm yourself. I will not allow it to continue.”
“You think I am hurting myself?”
“Of course, you are. And I. Do. Not. Like. It,” he gritted through his teeth.
Despite his domineering attitude, his command was endearing. In his own way, he was trying to protect her. Her palm buzzed, then pushed itself to the side of his face.
Viktor held still, feeling the cool leather of her glove touch his cheek. He could feel the cicatrice’s pull as it beckoned to his own. He wanted to feel her skin slide along his, to join their hands as he emptied himself inside her.
Eden released the hold on the oxygen in her veins, allowing her heart to thump wildly while her blood flowed through it. Her breathing accelerated.
Viktor’s eyes moved to the artery on her neck and his fangs elongated as his cock became fully erect. He would need to feed soon. First, he would sample her flesh.
He mimicked her touch and ran his thumb along her bottom lip.
“Tell me, mala vestica, has anyone tasted these before?”
“No,” she panted, reveling in the feel of his skin upon her face.
“Good. I’d hate to have to kill anyone who had dared.”
He barely got the words out before his lips were on hers. She groaned when she felt his tongue enter and explore her mouth. Eden tentatively pressed her tongue to his, and a purring sound came from his throat.
She’d been wrong about his laugh. This was the most wonderful sound to ever reach her ears. Her undergarments flooded with her juices and she inched forward, pressing as hard as she could into his stomach.
Viktor’s hands moved to her backside, lifting her slightly off the chair and rubbing her up and down his abdominal muscles. The scent of her sweet honey filled the air and he couldn’t wait to lap it up.
Eden twisted and pulled at his hair as she wrapped her legs around his waist in a feeble attempt to get better purchase, to feel more pressure between her legs. She could sob from the want.
Viktor broke the kiss, needing to see the yearning in her eyes, wanting her to feel as uncontrolled as he felt.
Eden’s lips were swollen from his sensual assault. Her hooded eyes implored him for more. She squeezed her legs tight around him and his fingers dug into her flesh.
When she whined and stretched to kiss him again, his heart thudded heavily. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his jacket and slid it down his arms. He let it drop absently to the floor, in a hurry to get her body back in his hands.
Viktor slowed the kiss and his lips drifted across her cheek to her ear.
“Do you have any idea what I’m going to do you?”
Eden whimpered and nipped at the skin on his neck. It nearly made him spill inside his pants. He had never allowed anyone near his neck. If he could, he’d keep her mouth there forever.
His control was slipping. The feel of her in his arms, the scent of her sweet arousal, it was all overloading his senses. The chaotic sensory overload was almost more than he could bear.
His cicatrice was quiet, it’s power unnecessary. His predatory nature had taken over, a driving force demanding to join with its mate.
Viktor grabbed the front of Eden’s shirt and tore it open. Buttons flew in all directions, bouncing off the floor and rolling around in circles.
Eden was still kissing and licking his neck, unconcerned with his aggression. She did not feel in control of her body and it did not bother her. It was exhilarating, untamed, and life-affirming all at once.
Viktor placed both hands on her shoulders and pushed until her back hit the chair. He wanted to look at what was now his, what would always be his.
Unlike female Prajna, Eden wore another layer under her blouse. It compressed her breasts in and up. He couldn’t decide if he loved it or hated it.
“Are you fond of this garment?” he asked, running his fingertips down the valley of her chest.
“I—”
Before she could respond, he’d ripped it down the middle, her breasts now on full display for him. Impatient to touch them, he dove forward, laving and sucking at her erect nipples.
Eden cried out at the sensation of Viktor’s hot mouth on her chest. With each suckle, her core pulsed and throbbed. He was making her crazy.
The heat from her birthmark had stoked a fire within her as it spread through every inch of her being. No thought or reason fought against his claiming. Everything inside Eden was welcoming Viktor to do as he pleased.
All these years, Eden had believed herself incapable of ever wanting a male, of thinking her friends ridiculous to seek them out. As Viktor’s tongue slid across her sensitive skin in a loving caress, she knew why those females agreed to meet males in the woods at night. Finally, she understood.
Viktor’s respiration was increasing. She could feel it against her breasts. His hot breath added to the eroticism of what he was doing. Eden held on to his hair, unsure if she was pushing or pulling. She needed more.
As if reading her mind, Viktor cupped her between her legs, pressing and rubbing over her pants. Eden gasped, rejoicing in the pleasure mounting from the base of her spine to the skin of her core.
“Viktor,” she begged, “please.”
For what she was asking, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was only he could give it to her.
Viktor smiled against her chest as he heard her plea. He could make her come like this, but he wanted to see her bared—all of her—before he allowed it.
He lifted from her supple body, grabbing the front of her trousers to unbutton them. Slowly, he lowered the zipper. Eden closed her eyes, too embarrassed to watch.
“Open your eyes, Sieva. You will watch as I bring you pleasure. If you close them, I will stop.”
Eden’s eyes popped open.
Viktor reached for the fabric on her hips and pulled. Eden lifted her lower half to assist him. The riding breeches were tight-fitting and did not easily slide down her legs.
He eyed her boots, which were still on. They would hinder his progress with her trousers. With his patience shot, he grabbed the offending fabric and tore it down the seam. The material hung loosely to the sides of her legs, but he paid it no mind. His focus was zeroed in on what lie at the apex of her thighs.
Lace. Eden’s nakedness was covered in white lace, a stark reminder of her innocence. He leaned forward and put his mouth to the top of her mound, kissing it reverently.
Eden’s heart softened as she watched Viktor kiss the lace of her undergarments. His gaze met hers, so full of heat and determination she had trouble keeping her eyes open.
Without looking away, he fisted the delicate fabric, tearing it from her body. Air hit her pinkened skin and she exhaled in anticipation.
Viktor ran his nose along her folds, committing her scent to memory. Nothing had ever smelled sweeter.
He shoved her legs further apart and licked up the seam of her center. He should have taken his time, teased her, but all he could concentrate on was swallowing her essence.
“Ah!” she squeaked, her body trembling.
Eden’s reaction set his body aflame. Viktor growled as he lapped furiously at her, unable to get enough. He used his thumb to press against the pinnacle of her cleft, as his tongue dipped inside as far as it could go.
With that single touch, Eden flew apart, screaming so loud she was sure someone would think he was killing her. In a way, he was. Her body spasmed and euphoria flooded her system.
Her heartrate was out of control, but she left it alone, thinking it would slow on its own. It didn’t.
Viktor gave no reprieve, continu
ously licking and sucking until she felt like she was going to peak again. He slid a long finger into her channel and sucked hard on her nub.
Eden fisted his hair, pulling his face forward as she rocked her hips against it. He added a second finger and another climax rushed to the surface.
She was too overwhelmed to keep her eyes open. She shouted his name and he roared, porting away abruptly.
Eden suddenly felt bereft at the loss of his touch. She opened her eyes. He was across the room, looking unsteady on his feet. His chest was heaving, his eyes wild.
Viktor lifted his hand, and she was shocked to see how much it was shaking. The tip of one finger was covered in blood. Her blood. He must have breached her maidenhead and she’d been so enraptured she had felt nothing but pleasure.
He deliberately placed his finger in his mouth and groaned. The drugging effect of her taste combined with her blood awoke something inside him.
If he didn’t leave her now, Viktor would feast upon her virgin blood and he didn’t know if he would be able to stop drinking. He wanted to tear into her, to swallow her lifeblood and mix it with his own, to take so much she would live inside him forever.
His damned cicatrice only encouraged him to do just that. Viktor was too dangerous to be anywhere near Eden right now. Once his fangs punctured her ivory skin, he would rut her like an animal. He feared he might drain her dry in his excitement.
Not once in his life had he been unable to control the bloodlust. Not until this moment.
Viktor had foolishly believed he could go slow with her. With Eden there was no such thing. He needed to leave and calm the beast inside.
Unfortunately, only one thing would curb his appetite. He took one last look at his mate and ported out of the room.
Chapter 10
Viktor teleported directly into the center of the Komora, landing behind one of the pillars lining the courtyard. The large pavilion housed hundreds of female Prajna, most of which served him directly.
Some worked in the castle or at various trades around the town outside of Castra Nocte. Others were here solely to feed the king. It was a practice existing since well before Viktor had ever been born.