Taken by the Vampire King

The design was so tightly drawn that the strength of the blood match could not be denied.

Her pulse tripped into a sprint, fluttering against his skin everywhere they touched. “What is this? What does it mean?”

“It’s a mating mark, precious Kaira.” He tilted her face toward his and steeled himself for what he’d decided to say if this match came true. “And it means you have some decisions to make.”

Chapter 11

Mating mark?

“What do you mean?” Kaira said, studying the black knotwork on her hand and tracing the tendrils of it up her arm. It was breathtakingly beautiful, all the more so because it matched the pattern on Henrik’s hand, but also terrifying. Because her very blood seemed to sing of its significance.

He grasped her hand, showing her how their marks weren’t just mirrors, but that his actually continued onto her skin, and vice versa. “For a vampire, blood is the source of all life. It is magical and powerful. When two people with an especially righteous pairing of blood are joined together, the magic identifies them as a good match for mating, as a couple who would well sustain one another and bear strong offspring. I have never seen a knot this tight or this extensive. It is a good match, Kaira.” He trailed a finger up her arm, the touch so light it tickled her skin.

Bracing himself on an elbow, he gazed down at her face. Kaira gasped. As if the night hadn’t been filled with wonder enough, Henrik’s eyes were a brilliant royal blue and the wrinkles that had aged his face were entirely gone. The dark circles under his eyes had lightened, and the hollows of his cheeks weren’t as deep. She’d noticed his eyes before they’d made love, but he appeared to have lost twenty-five or thirty years since then.

Happiness filled her heart and tightened her throat, not because he was more handsome. Bonds of affection had already drawn them together, and never would she have imagined that curing his illness meant reversing the age of his appearance. Rather, her happiness flowed from the avid hope that this was proof he was in fact cured. Or could be. “Henrik,” she finally managed to say. “You have to see yourself.”

He touched his fingers to his face and frowned in concentration. After a moment, he rolled off the bed and retrieved his robe from the floor. He held it open to her. “Come with me?”

She nodded and eased off the bed. He wrapped the heavy fabric around her. Miles too big, she wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Infused with his scent, it was almost as good as being in his arms. Almost.

Fingers interlaced, they crossed the room to the bathroom in the corner, where earlier she’d showered and dressed. Henrik flipped on the light and froze, his gaze glued to the mirror. At first, his expression gave nothing of his reaction away. “You should know it may not last.”

Her heart squeezed. She threaded her arm through his and met his reflection’s gaze. “I hope it does, only because maybe it means your illness is cured. Or better, at least.” She tugged him to face her and placed her hand over his heart. “But, Henrik, the man who saved my life, who attracted and intrigued me, who admired my work and who made me feel things I’ve never felt before—that man is in here.” She pressed her skin more firmly against his and struggled with how to phrase what she next wanted to say. “No matter if your eyes are dark or pale, that man will still be here, for me.”

“But you deserve a male who—”

She pushed onto her tiptoes and kissed him. It broke her heart to think he feared she couldn’t accept him because of how his illness had changed him on the outside. Her heart? So much had happened in such a short time, she couldn’t say for sure how she felt about all of it. But there was no doubting that her heart was involved.

When she pulled away, his eyes flashed a vivid, warm blue.

“So what does the mating mark mean in practical terms?”

He licked his lips, the tip of a fang peeking out. “I agree with the magic, Kaira. I feel like I have been waiting for you my whole life. Not just because your blood has the ability to heal me, but because when I am with you, I feel whole in my heart. I feel peace in my soul. We know very little else about one another, and I understand this is all very fast in human terms.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his tenderness so remarkable for someone so big, so powerful. “But to answer your question, the mark gives us the opportunity—three days—to decide whether to become mates, to build a life together, with you at my side as my queen and my partner. I would share my whole life with you, my blood, and, if this healing takes, I should be able to share my immortality with you, too.”

Her brain struggled to keep up with the flow of truly amazing information. That real feelings had already taken root in his heart. That she could have a place to belong. And that she could be with him...forever. “You said the mark gives us three days?”

He nodded. “There is a ceremony that consummates the mating, but it has to be performed within three days of when the mark was made, or it will fade, and the opportunity to mate will go with it.”

Three days? How was she supposed to decide what essentially amounted to the rest of her life—and a version of her life she never could’ve imagined before this moment—in just seventy-two hours?

He kissed her with warm, soft, commanding lips. Looking her right in the eye, he said, “This is why I said you have a decision to make. Everything about our time together has been intense and overwhelming. I know that. And I don’t want you to feel any more pressured than you already do.” His hands slipped around the back of her neck and massaged. “I want you to go back down to Tromso.”

“What?”

“Wait. Just listen. I want you to go into town and enjoy the rest of your exhibit and the judging ceremony the day after tomorrow.”

“How did you know about that?”

“I have been thinking about this all day, about what would happen if we matched. So much will change for you. I know the sacrifices are unfairly weighted on your side. No matter what, I didn’t want you to have to give up something you’ve obviously worked so hard at and have such a talent for.”

At those words, her heart got a whole lot more involved. She hadn’t had to say it, or beg for it, or rail about the injustice of it. He’d just known how important the show and her photographs were to her. He got it.

And, honestly, she had no one in her life. No family. No real roots. The sacrifices weren’t as many as he thought.

“I won’t send you alone,” he continued. “One of my warriors will drive you down and get you checked in at a hotel right in the center of town.”

“I don’t need—”

“Yes, you do. I won’t have it any other way.” He arched an eyebrow that was as sexy as it was humorous. “He’ll stay in town with you, out of sight but watching over you just in case. I will give you a phone number. After the show, call and let Jakob know what you’ve decided. I will respect your decision, Kaira, whatever it is.”

A tidal wave of emotion crashed over her. Confusion. Fear. Uncertainty. Excitement. Love.

Love?

Very possibly love.

“I don’t know what to say.”

He pulled her in for a long, slow kiss, one she felt into the tips of her left-hand fingers and all the way down to her toes. His arms wrapped around her and he bent her back with his height and the intensity of their connection. His taste, his smell, his touch—it was all-encompassing. And it was also goodbye. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes before they’d even broken apart.

She’d remember that kiss for the rest of her life. Which is exactly what he intended. Just in case.

He pulled away and caught a stray tear with his thumb. “I don’t want you to go. I need you to know that I want you. I want you, Kaira Sorensen. And I hope to God you come back to me.” Another stray tear straggled to his hand holding her face. “But, for now, I want you to get dressed. My warrior will be waiting right outside the suite ready to take you back. Go, and live your life, and think this through.” His voice cracked and he swallowed roughly. “And kick some ass in the competition.”