The Vampire King's Mate

by C. A. Worley

  Chapter 12

  Not wanting to startle his mate, Viktor ported to the balcony where he could see through the glass paneling. Eden was kneeling in front of the dark chair across from his own, her head bent towards the floor.

  Instead of entering, he watched as she scrubbed at the rug with stiff arms, concentration and determination upon her face. The scratch of the rag sliding across the wool nettled him. Acutely.

  She was erasing the resulting evidence of his touch, scouring it away and leaving no trace behind. His gut clenched when she stood and threw the cloth into the fire. It sizzled and hissed, an acerbic resonance to match his mood.

  It was drizzling outside, but Viktor barely felt it. He was angry. Angry with fate for her atrocious timing. Angry with himself. Angry with Eden. The longer he stared at her, the more aggravated he became.

  Though he was in the wrong, he was especially upset with his sieva. She was wiping away what he’d done to her, as if she’d meant to forget. As if she could not bear any hint of their activities.

  Their passion would not be so easily forgotten. Aside from his actions in that final moment, it had been perfect. She had been perfect. She had been his, fully giving herself to him.

  Eden had not shied away from him, had not acted as an innocent might. She’d accepted him. She’d wanted him—and, Goddess help him, how he wanted her in return.

  Viktor opened the door and stepped inside, pausing before quietly closing it behind him. He approached her slowly, cautiously, unsure what her reaction would be when she saw him. Eden’s attention remained on the flames currently consuming the cloth.

  He waited, but still she did not acknowledge his presence. Viktor did not like her lack of notice. He wanted to be the center of her attention, even if it was undeserved.

  Normally, he would say as much, but he was distracted by the fact she was wearing one of his shirts. No being in existence could possibly be lovelier than his sieva, or more desirable.

  The silence stretched as they waited out one another. Viktor knew, if he touched her skin to skin, she would not resist. The cicatrice would compel her to respond to him.

  He didn’t want her to have to be compelled. He wanted Eden to want to touch him, to choose to touch him.

  He would hold off as long as he could, but he needed to be close to her. In a single stride, his chest was against her shoulder. He strained to keep his arms at this sides.

  “Where were you?” Her voice was almost inaudible.

  “I had to leave. I was not myself, Eden.”

  She turned her face, glaring at him with such intensity he nearly stepped back.

  “That was not what I asked.”

  “You do not want me to answer. Trust me,” he said, bending to nuzzle her hair.

  Eden turned her body and pushed with both hands to back him away. Viktor did not budge, but the message was clear enough.

  “You mean to deny me?” he asked, disbelief and anxiety gnawing at him. He had never been denied.

  “I can smell another’s perfume on you.”

  Guilt, dark and ugly, ate away his other emotions. It was a dangerous thing for one such as he to allow. The last time he’d felt it, he’d behaved recklessly.

  It had been a mistake fleeing to the Komora, but he did it for her. If he explained, would she understand? He wasn’t used to explaining anything to anyone.

  “Eden—”

  “What was her name? Did you enjoy it? Did she?” she asked rapidly.

  Viktor ran his hand through his hair.

  “Did my … taste make you stop? Was it so abhorrent you would seek another to replace it?”

  Viktor was appalled Eden could think such a thing. What made it worse was there was no anger in her voice. She was hurt. He had hurt her by leaving. He had known it would, but seeing what he’d left in the wake of his departure tugged at the place where his heart should have been.

  “No, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Then why did you leave?”

  “I told you.”

  “Not being yourself tells me nothing. I do not know you. You are a stranger to me. But I wanted to know you. I felt something the first time I saw you, Viktor. When you declared I was yours, I knew it to be true. I did not question it. I came here willingly. I let you …”

  Eden couldn’t bring herself to describe what he’d done, so she motioned towards the chair.

  “I thought being your sieva meant—well, that it meant something far different than it does.”

  Viktor stepped towards Eden and she backed away. He growled at her retreat.

  “I am the King of Prajna. I am in control of myself at all times. I do not feel. I do not act on emotions. I do not behave in this manner. Not ever, Eden. The cicatrice is driving me to tear open your neck and feast upon your lifeblood. The second your essence hit my mouth I wasn’t sure I would be able to stop myself. I would sooner take my own life than harm my mate. Do not penalize me for protecting you.”

  “Protecting me? You ran to someone else for my own protection? If this is how you shield me, then I do not want to be protected.”

  His glimmering irises grew brighter. She did not want his protection? She’d have it whether she wanted it or not. He reached for her again and she sidestepped him. He could easily get to her, but they needed to resolve this before he did.

  “Why are you resisting me?” he demanded.

  “Is that a serious question?”

  “Of course, it is.”

  “I. Can. Smell. Her. On. You,” she seethed, her temper building with each word.

  Viktor lowered his eyes, as if to hide his shame. Eden hadn’t expected any sort of submission or acknowledgement of guilt. She didn’t think hardened men capable of it.

  His reaction was short-lived. Viktor raised his face, now turned stony, effectively erasing his indignity.

  Whatever he’d done, he felt bad about it. But his pride would not allow him to admit his mistake. Eden would not let it go.

  “Where were you, Viktor?” she asked again.

  Viktor threw his hands in the air. His little witch was beyond infuriating. If she wanted truth, she would get it. He would test her resolve to be his sooner than he would have liked.

  “I went to the Komora.”

  “The Komora,” she repeated, contemplating his meaning.

  “Do you know what a Komora is?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a pavilion, home to hundreds of Prajna. All female. My father built it for all his mistresses, his favorite ones that would do anything he asked. After his death, I dismissed his harem.”

  Some sense of relief entered her chest. It was instantly annihilated with his next words.

  “Then I replaced his with my own. When I’m hungry, I send for them. When I want sex, I send for them. Every single one of them has been in my feeding room to service me. Most of them to give me both blood and sex. I take at least one every day. That’s why there are so many in the Komora. My appetites are large, and it takes that many to keep me satiated.”

  Eden’s eyes bulged, her hand flew to her clavicle. Hundreds? She could never take the place of so many. Had Fate thought she would voluntarily be one of hundreds? The cicatrice eased her and she silently cursed it.

  “The second I knew I might harm you, I went there to feed. I thought if I consumed enough, it would take the edge off, so I could be what you needed. I only went there for blood, Eden.”

  He moved towards her, until their bodies were an inch apart.

  “Normally, one feeding would suffice. I was so unhinged, I fed from seven. I assure you I had no interest in bedding any of them. Not when you’d been so perfect. Are so perfect.”

  Eden’s hurt lessened the more he spoke. She could easily hear the truth in his declaration. Worry laced his words, evidence of his torment.

  Viktor hadn’t gone to his harem to couple. He’d fed. She didn’t like it, but she understood it wasn’t done to upset her or to betray her. He was a male losing control
, desperate to regain it.

  They would need to revisit the Komora issue later. For now, she was willing to let it go.

  Her cicatrice pulled so hard she stumbled into him. Viktor caught her easily and his face softened. He lifted Eden until she was eye level. Her lust had her wrapping her legs around him.

  “You didn’t resist its pull this time, mala vestica.”

  “No, I didn’t. Perhaps now you’ll know to answer me honestly.”

  Viktor chuffed. “We will not be ourselves until we finish this.”

  Eden could feel small tremors moving through his body as he labored to restrain himself. He held himself back, doing so for her benefit.

  “Promise me you won’t leave again,” she said.

  He looked indecisive and she knew he was warring with himself. Eden wanted to allay his fears. She was not as breakable as he believed.

  “I am not powerless, Viktor. If at any time I sense danger, or if you harm me in any way, I will set you on fire.”

  Viktor let out a hearty laugh and her stomach fluttered. His hands tightened around her.

  “Yes, well, that would certainly get my attention.”

  Eden nodded towards the bed, but Viktor shook his head.

  “No, little witch. Not yet. There is something else I want to do first.”

  Chapter 13

  Viktor carried his mate into the bathing chamber. He sat her on the vanity and went to the stones to make sure they were heating in the open flames of the pit next to the bath. He had no issue with immersing in cold water, but he wanted this to be an enjoyable experience for Eden.

  He opened the large spout and water rushed into the pool. It would fill fast and he would be able to wash away the perfume Eden had detected on his clothing. The lingering scent made him uneasy and he wanted it gone.

  As the bath filled, Viktor stood in front of his mate. He watched her as she watched him slide off his shoes, then his stockings.

  Eden wet her lips when Viktor removed his shirt and threw it aside. He was a work of art, a giant marble sculpture come to life.

  Every part of his physique was incredible—and large. His pale skin stretched tight across sinewy muscles shaped to perfection. The dips and curves were a landscape Eden wanted to explore with her touch.

  Viktor’s broad shoulders dwarfed everything around him. They held the weight of arms that could easily crush her.

  His chiseled chest gave way to defined abdominals. A smattering of dark hair trailed below his navel and disappeared behind his trousers. The large bulge in front had her coughing nervously.

  Viktor grinned at the panicky look on Eden’s face. She would soon learn not to fear what was so uncomfortably hard for her. His throbbing flesh would give her nothing but gratification, especially when his fangs were piercing her supple flesh.

  He dropped his pants and Eden looked away.

  “Give me your eyes, my sieva.”

  Little by little, she did as he ordered. They drifted from his feet, up his powerful legs, which he was steadily widening.

  Viktor grabbed his erection and stroked it leisurely. It was the most erotic thing Eden had ever witnessed, had ever fantasized. She wanted to know what it felt like in her own hand.

  Abruptly, he ceased his motion and Eden made a small squeak. She wanted to watch.

  “Soon,” he promised. It would have to be soon. His hold over himself wouldn’t last much longer.

  Viktor went to check the stones again, dying to get them both in the water, to get his hands on her once more.

  “I can heat the water. If you would like,” she offered, hopping down from the vanity.

  “By all means, warm our bath, Sieva.”

  “I already washed.”

  “I know. Next time, I’ll be the one to clean you. You’re not to wash it away again. Understood?”

  “Of course, my lord,” she replied in a saccharine-sweet tone. “Unless you disappear on me. Then, who knows what I’ll be inclined to do.”

  He ignored her little barb, curious how she would heat the pool. Eden knelt and placed her hands in the water, shooting her energies down into the pool. The water bubbled and fizzed.

  The shirt she was wearing shifted and Viktor caught a glimpse of what was underneath. He tore his eyes away and focused on the water, lest he mount her from behind.

  Eden didn’t shoot actual flames underwater, but the magic that produced fire still pushed out the same amount of energy. It was more than enough to boil the liquid, if she chose. If the vampire continued with his overlord attitude, she just might cook him alive.

  Viktor found her use of magic just as stimulating as the sight of her bared under his shirt. When she withdrew her hands, the water was steaming.

  Viktor took her elbow, helping her stand. “Raise your arms.”

  Eden put both hands in the air and Viktor pulled the shirt over her head, dropping it beside her feet. He picked her up and waded down into the deepest part of the pool, pleased she didn’t shy away from him. He moved her body so they were face to face.

  Eden automatically spread her legs to straddle his waist, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She slid her arms up his chest, over his shoulders, and encircled his neck.

  Her nudity hadn’t made her uncomfortable. His nudity hadn’t made her anything other than aroused. She felt a sense of belonging—of rightness—wrapped around the Vampire King.

  It could be the result of the cicatrice, but it mattered not. She’d felt Viktor’s pull the second she’d laid eyes on him, the first male to ever spark her desire.

  If her attraction to him hadn’t been a sign, then she had to consider their marks. She didn’t believe in coincidences. The cicatrices were perfect matches, created by forces beyond her knowledge or comprehension.

  Even if she mistrusted her new libido, all her logic pointed to the evidence that she was Viktor’s sieva. Eden would not borrow trouble by fighting it, and she would never question the Goddess above.

  Viktor kissed Eden chastely, a reward for her boldness, then whispered, “Hold your breath.”

  Her nose crinkled in confusion, so adorable he almost changed his mind. Almost.

  Eden was suddenly pulled under the surface. Just as fast, they shot out of the water. She wiped at the water streaming down her face, giggling.

  “What was that for?” she accused, trying to sound indignant.

  “That was for how you spoke to me. I didn’t like it.”

  Eden snorted, causing Viktor to grin at her impish and unladylike manner. People did not speak to him in such a way. And no one questioned him. Ever.

  He didn’t know why he liked it now—or why he was smiling. Viktor was being truthful about Eden’s words from earlier. He did not appreciate her attitude, and he certainly did not like the reminder he had disappeared on her.

  “Yes, well, I didn’t like how you spoke to me, either, Viktor.”

  She was still smiling, and it did things to him he could not put into words. Needing to occupy them both before he divested her of her virginity in the bathing pool, he moved to the edge and grabbed one of the soaps.

  “Wash it away, Eden.”

  Eden’s smile waned, recalling what “it” was. She made no move to take the bar from his hand.

  Viktor waited her out.

  She bit her lip, drawing his eyes to her mouth. A thrill danced along her spine, feeling sexually powerful when she’d been anything but all these years. Determined, she took the soap, meaning to lather it between her hands, but her glove was still on.

  Viktor could tell she wasn’t sure what to do, was likely afraid to expose her cicatrice after he’d all but ordered her to keep it away from him.

  “Remove the glove,” he told her.

  “Are—are you sure?” Washing him, she believed she could handle. Soul-bonding in the bath was far more intimidating.

  Viktor nodded, feeling the gravity of what they were going to do. It was more than blood and sex. Today he would bind his soul to
his sieva. To Eden.

  He’d never thought he would want it, had previously believed it an inconvenience, a curse. It interfered with his long-standing obligation to his dearly departed friend, Dmitri. Now that Eden was in his arms, Viktor could not deny it was what he wanted.

  He would have his mate, be bound to her, and still fulfill his end of the contract he’d agreed to so long ago. He believed Dmitri would have understood, having been bound to his own sieva for hundreds of years. Though, he did not look forward to explaining it to his mate.

  Eden slipped her hand out of the glove, expecting it to force itself upon his skin. She observed it closely, but the cicatrice only hummed slightly. She pitched the glove across the room and rubbed the soap between her hands.

  Viktor groaned when Eden began working the soap into a lather against his skin with her fingers. She started at his head and massaged down his neck, tenderly. Suds dripped down his face and she wiped them away from his eyes.

  “You should go under to rinse before it stings.”

  He ignored her words and brought her mouth to his. He couldn’t be so close to her and not kiss her. As his lips worshipped hers, he slowly lowered them below the surface.

  Under the water, they continued their kiss. Eden rubbed his hair, getting rid of the lather. When they resurfaced, she clung to him, undulating against his front.

  The crown of his erection was poking her bottom. She arched her hips away until there was enough space for it lay in between them. Once it was where she wanted it, she ground against it, shamelessly.

  Viktor’s fangs extended, and he grazed her throat with one. She mewled and rocked frantically, daring him to do what he wanted.

  She needed him inside her. Brazenly, she reached for his shaft and he flexed at the feel of her small fist around him. She positioned the head where she wanted it most and tried to lower herself.

  They were both panting. Eden licked at the water trickling down his skin and nipped at his shoulder, feeling as though she should bite it, being encouraged by the cicatrice to draw his blood. So, she did.