The words, spoken aloud, sealed the pledge he’d once been told he’d make. To serve his Merytkhent—“Beloved of Khent”—and protect her through the trials that might very well break the world.
Khent didn’t worry, didn’t fear, and didn’t normally do what he didn’t want to do. He fought because he enjoyed conflict. Violence soothed that hungry part of him for action. But he also loved learning, figuring out new and exciting paths toward knowledge. Death remained the great unknown, an eternal calling that forced him to wake each day just to learn its mysteries.
Though he understood the mechanisms of the Liminality, he had never been able to stand between worlds like Hecate did. And he had no knowledge of an afterlife. He only knew he never wanted to be condemned to serve an eternity in a place like Irkalla.
That thought in mind, he undressed and slid under the sheets in his bed, waiting for Valentine to finish in the bathroom. She emerged, dressed in a long sleep shirt she’d fetched from his wardrobe—courtesy of Hecate’s magic—and joined him.
Instead of facing away, she curled toward him, and he felt her gaze as well as her soft breath over his chest. The dim lights would probably be too low for her to see, but his superior vision allowed him to see just fine.
“You’re not tired?” He stroked her hair, enchanted with the soft strands. Hell, enchanted by all of her.
He’d been attracted. Now he feared becoming besotted, because since saying the words that bound them, he… No. He couldn’t lie to himself. Before those magic words, when he’d decided to take her as his mate, he’d felt the connection between them snap into place.
“I’m tired, but I have so many questions.” She sighed.
He pressed a kiss against her hair, inhaling her scent, pleased she smelled of him as well. “Ask.”
“Do you mate a lot?”
“A lot? Not at all. I will mate once in my lifetime.”
She tensed. “Once? What if I die?”
“Everything dies, Valentine. You and I know that more than most.”
“But… You can’t mate me if I’m going to die.”
“I can do whatever I want.”
“Does that mean you love me?”
He paused. “I don’t know that vampires know how to love.”
“Oh.”
She sounded disappointed, and the blasted ache in his chest returned. The foreign sensation was anything but pleasant. Like when she cried or felt pain. He didn’t like it.
“I should say that my kind do feel affection. My Night Bloode kin are odd though. They have kept their mates here. Even Orion, whose sea witch is close to giving birth, intends to keep the child and his female even after the birth.”
“You don’t normally?”
“Vampire customs involve brutality, violence, and often death. Raising vampire males takes skill, so as to create hardy offspring who will survive into adulthood. Varu started all of our nonsense, actually. When he took Fara to mate, he insisted she stay with us. And she’s not even breeding.”
“Yeah?” Valentine snuggled closer to him, her heart rate easing, thumping in time with his.
“Then Duncan fell for Macy, a human witch. Like Varu, he refuses to let her go.”
“So she’s here against her will?”
He huffed. “I doubt anything could make that human do what she didn’t want to. She’s stubborn.” A true compliment he’d never admit in her hearing.
He swore he could feel Valentine smiling. “You sound like you like her.”
“For a witch, she’s not too bad. She helped defeat a major demon, and she fought by her mate’s side. Duncan cares for her.” Khent admitted, “She’s also the clan Bloode Witch, and that title carries great power.”
“You respect power.”
“I do. I respect you.”
