Arabella did not awaken for the entirety of four days.
Viscon assured Frederick that she would be well-that it was normal after expelling so much power-and that if he supplied a steady amount of blood then she would wake up sooner rather than later. But the longer her eyes remained closed, the wider a pit of anxiety began to open.
What if she never wakes up.
Dumitri, Gheorge, and Vignolo met with Frederick once every day, the only part of his day that provided ample distraction. When they weren't at Carnelia they hunted for any information on the mystical force that helped Hendlemark attack Thescan.
Gheorge's main source of information came from Yessara-a source he returned to daily since the attack. "Her information does not come freely without a little prodding," Gheorge said with a wink, causing Vignolo and Dumitri to glare at him. Even Errand grumbled with annoyance whenever Gheorge carried on about his trysts with Yessara. And how he did carry on.
Frederick leaned against Arabella's throne as he waited for Gheorge to get to the important parts. The seat was one monstrous glittering rough-cut rock, a space hollowed and smoothed in its center for the queen to sit. Viscon told him that legend had it that a dragon had gifted it to Arabella as a peace offering on behalf of its species. There might have been some truth to it, for it emanated a warmth that Frederick couldn't determine was real or imagined. "Just be careful with her. She's Tessande's sister, so we don't know how much we can trust her."
Dumitri nodded. "Agreed. It isn't necessary to cavort with her. Just find out what we need to know and end it, man."
Gheorge pouted. "But Arabella said I could."
"Have you made your mind up about infiltrating Hendlemark yet?" Vignolo asked, his dark eyes viewing Frederick. The unspoken hatred between them hadn't eased in the last several days at all. But Vignolo seemed to respect Arabella to an absolute reverent degree, taking her orders-even to obey her husband-very seriously.
Frederick sighed and folded his arms. He sorely wished that Arabella was in the right mind to make the decision. She might be furious if she found out that he'd put her men at risk. But by the same logic, Hendlemark had put her at risk, and they needed more than what they'd already gathered by the time she awakened. "If you can get information without being caught, then do it but be careful."
"We'll return within a week," Vignolo finished, and both he and Dumitri vanished, leaving Frederick and Gheorge alone.
"I hope I've just made the right decision."
"Don't worry too much about them," Gheorge said. "They're tough bastards. They'll be all right."
Frederick clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace, Gheorge following at his side. "So, off to call on Yessara today?"
Gheorge shook his head. "No. I think we're done for a while yet."
Frederick raised a brow. "Did it end badly?"
"No, it just ended. She is pining after a mate she lost long ago, and I am pining for a mate who may never come. But she did hint that mine is coming. I do hope so. I would love to have a mate of my own, but I have all but lost hope."
Frederick considered his words. "So these mates are important to vampyres?"
"Extremely," he confirmed. "Finding our gods-given mate is the most important moment of our immortal lives."
"Well, if it's so significant, perhaps you aren't meant to find yours yet."
Gheorge paused. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well," Frederick started, realizing the error in his words, "you seem to be enjoying your freedom, and you're still in your early hundreds. Don't vampyres usually have to wait longer for this sort of thing?"
Gheorge's bitter gaze swept over the halls. "Most but not all. I did not expect to crave my mate so soon. I would just love to be settled with that certain male or female and end my days of being an empty, shallow-minded whore."
Frederick coughed into his fist. "Yes, well, don't lose hope. I'm sure you're fated one is out there, and I hope they come sooner rather than later."
"If I am lucky."
A scrape sounded nearby, a wall opening at their side.
"And what do we have here?" Gheorge asked, retrieving the items. "Booze and dusty chocolate? I'm sure the chocolate isn't safe to eat but the booze, I'll have. Thank you, Errand, but don't offer the chocolates to Frederick either. One poisoned piece of chocolate could kill a mortal with one bite, you know."
Errand groaned as though embarrassed.
"It's an honest mistake, Errand," Frederick called. "You've lived with beasts for so long that you have no idea what humans actually need except for alcohol. But if you happen to find a bonbon that's from this past century, do send it my way."
Gheorge popped the cork and drank. He offered it to Frederick, but he shook his head. He needed to stay in the right mind for when Arabella awakened. "Suit yourself."
They continued for a while longer, and this time he could feel Errand rolling under their feet as though accompanying them. "So, does Arabella have a mate?" Frederick asked.
Wine spluttered from Gheorge's lips, and he choked as he beat his chest. "Pardon?"
"Has Arabella found her mate? Do you know."
"Well," he started slowly, "I know next to nothing about Arabella and her mate."
"Next to nothing?" Frederick said. "But you know something."
"You hadn't thought to ask your wife, old boy?"
"Not before now, no," Frederick admitted. "But the more and more I talk to you about this mate concept, the more I become curious. How can you tell when a vampyre is mated?"
"How can you tell?" Gheorge said, gripping the bottle. "Well, the vampyre always senses who their mate is when they meet them. But before both mates accept each other they are drawn to one another. They become inseparable long before they become mated. Neither of them can stand to see the other in pain, not even for a second. And these are usually signs of matehood before both beings are vampyres."
"Does that mean one of the mates will be human?"
"More often than not," Gheorge said, nodding. "The human doesn't feel as compelled to their mate as their vampyre half does but the vampyre becomes very territorial. But a pair can't be bonded until they're both vampyre, and once the bond is accepted on both sides, then their hearts begin beating with life again."
A foolish sense of disappointment trudged through Frederick. Arabella's heart did not beat, meaning she had not found her mate and he couldn't be hers. There would also be relief to come with that knowledge, but that part would come later, he hoped. They didn't need to be bonded in some eternal, life-altering way. That would be a disaster for his plans to betray her.
Plans that needed to be reassessed at the earliest opportunity considering all that had happened ...
"But the vampyre always knows who their mate is once they meet them," he reiterated. "They do say there is some spiritual, invisible link between mates. But that hasn't been proven."
Frederick was about to ask what he meant when awareness prickled his skin. Energy surged through his body, and he whirled on his heel to scan the hall.
"What is it?" Gheorge asked.
"I'm afraid I must take my leave of you now," Frederick said. "I will see you later.-Errand, would you kindly take me back to the bedroom?"
Gheorge gave him a knowing smirk before disappearing.
Frederick opened the nearest door and found that Errand had taken him straight to Arabella. She stretched in his bed and gave him a feline grin. "I feel better today."
"My queen," he said with a solemn dip of his head, relief blooming through every muscle to see Arabella awake again. "You've been incapacitated for four days. I am glad to see you have recovered."
She arched her back, purposely providing an ample display of her cleavage. "Oh, I am much better, indeed."
Frederick tried to hide to smirk as he neared her-tried and failed. "Completely recovered?"
"Just about right." She vanished, and Frederick pivoted in time to catch her advancing. Wrapped in the carmine-colored blanket, she looked like a queen wearing a mantle, waves of black hair spilling down her shoulders. "Naughty. You didn't put a nightdress on me while I was sleeping."
He backed a step, and then another. "You wouldn't let me."
"That does sound like me," she admitted. "I do so love sleeping in the nude."
She was only a breath away from him now, and he reached out to trace a finger along her jaw. "Did you wake up hungry?"
"Famished," she said, and she forced him to sit on the bed.
He stifled a moan as she let the blanket fall, completely naked to him now as she lowered and settled between his knees. She ran her hands up the back of his boots, his calves, his thighs. His cock twitched with anticipation. "I don't think you can drink the blood in that."
"I'm starving for it anyway."
He swallowed. "You don't have to."
Arabella drew his breeches down and palmed his cock. "I'll have to insist. I haven't tasted this yet."
She stroked him. Hard enough to drive him crazy but soft enough to be torture. He licked his lips, stopping himself from begging for her to end his suffering. Or extend it. The feel of her cool palm against his hot flesh made him want to praise her before they'd even begun.
"Shirt off," she commanded. "Now. My hands are full at the moment."
He hesitated.
In this room, the lighting of the candles provided her with an accurate view of his features. His flaws. This place offered none of the darkness or distance they'd had before when they'd been intimate. If he removed his shirt, she would see every ugly, twisted scar up close, including the one that embarrassed him the most.
Red.
Everywhere.
The man in Hendlemark.
His breathing hitched. Suddenly the maroon that colored the room no longer held the sensual appeal it held moments ago. The red blanket under her knees resembling a pool of blood-
She released him and rose to her feet, standing bare before him. There wasn't a single blemish on her skin. All of it smooth, pale, and perfect. He'd never seen anything like it. It reminded him just how unworthy he was of a creature like her, and for the first time in his life, he truly, truly hated his body.
Arabella cupped his cheek, and he was almost too ashamed to meet her eyes. "You know, your body is irresistible to someone such as me."
"Is it, then," he asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He jerked his face away from her touch. "We shouldn't be exerting you so soon after the battle with Hendlemark. Let me feed you so you can rest."
"Frederick."
He raised his gaze to hers. "What?"
She draped her hair over one shoulder as she wedged herself between his legs. He softened a little as her hands roved over his shoulders, unable to stop himself from placing a kiss on her collarbone.
"I have only to think of you, hear your name, or glance your way to become wet for you," she breathed in his ear. "You, Frederick, are the most beautiful man I've ever seen. And that's the truth."
His mind swirled from her confession, the air becoming impossibly thin.
She kissed his temple, his earlobe, neck, collarbone, lowering herself onto her knees before him once more. "Gorgeous male, you carry so much shame when you should feel none."
Her hands gripped the hem of his shirt. A silent question. His answer was a gulp.
"Vulnerable-for me? Are you trying to make me lose all control, Frederick. You keep revealing all these sides to me, and I won't be held accountable for the filthy things I'll be helpless to do to you."
He was already panting for her, his cock straining for her touch. "What are you trying to do to me?"
"Everything," she answered simply, and with that, she pulled the shirt over his head.
Her eyes traveled over his chest, his torso, his abdomen. Revealing nothing.
"Woman," he rasped, "you're killing me."
She leaned up on her knees and kissed the scar on his breast, kissing each imperfection on the way to his navel. "Such enthralling skin. So lovely. To see you marked in pain brings me nothing but pleasure, and you should wear these marks with more pride than your precious, princely medals. To see you healed and strong. Every muscle bulging and delicious." Her fingers trailed over the largest scar on his stomach. The one he inflicted on himself. "To see the pain you rarely reveal to others exposed to me alone ... Gods, I am proud of my male. Aroused by my male. Never think to hide these from me. Never."
"Ara ..."
To his surprise, she leaned into him, nuzzling his sack against her cheek as though she truly adored that part of him. He didn't know if that one gesture made him want to shower her with affection or fuck her throat.
All conflicted thought disappeared as her tongue took a long lick of his shaft. She lapped him up lovingly, caressing his balls as if they were precious to her. He blinked once. Twice.
Gods, that felt right.
He thought he might come from this teasing alone, and he jerked into her grip. Her tongue dragged up the length of him, and she flicked the tip before blowing on him. She did it over and over, taunting him, delaying his release for as long as possible. She seemed to know when he couldn't stand it, and finally, she opened her mouth and captured his cock between her lips.
He panted as she slid him in slowly. But she didn't stop. The tip of him squeezed until he thought he wouldn't be able to stand it, reaching until she enveloped him completely. Her lower lip massaged his sack, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
He didn't know a woman could take him in that far, crushing him at the back of her throat. Bending his cock until it rested within her at an unnatural mend.
And then she groaned, the vibration rattling his dick from the tip to his stomach, chest, and toes.
Not again not again-
She sucked from him deep and closed her eyes, reveling in the effect she had on him. Every greedy pull from her lips nearly made him spend. He would have to plead with her before she made him come down her throat.
"Stop," he panted. "Don't-"
Her hands cupped his ass and gripped, thrusting him even further than he thought possible. He had to be hurting her but she didn't seem to care, clutching him until her nails dug into his skin. A predator trapping her prey.
Curses rained down from his lips. His vision blurred as she urged him harder and harder, fucking his cock with her mouth.
The pleasure pounded in his every pulse point, curling in his chest, hands, toes, and spine.
And he exploded, roaring as he came.
#
Frederick watched as Arabella raised the ladle to her lips and sipped. He fought the erection that begged to rise as he stared at her mouth. Stared and stared and stared at that incredible mouth. Imagining her licking and swirling and-
"Maybe five minutes more," she said, resting the ladle by the stove.
He parted her robe so he could rest his hands on her bare hips, loving the indecent strip of skin from her breasts to womanhood that was his to enjoy. "I've missed your cooking. The food in Thescan doesn't compare."
"I'd say that you're only trying to flatter me, but I did taste the food. So I know it doesn't compare. Thank you for cutting these vegetables."
He tucked his finger under her cherry-colored nipple and gave it a light tease, delighting in the way her skin pebbled. "Thank you for wanting to do this."
Her eyes locked on his throat. "Well ... if my husband has been left to the mercy of Viscon's cooking, it is only fair that I will be the one to feed him now."
"Yes, Viscon is good at many things but cooking is not one of them." He lifted her onto the kitchen counter, causing her to squeal. "But you must be starving, and you haven't fed from me-and don't you dare turn that into an innuendo."
She bit the cuff of her robe, widening her eyes with exaggerated innocence that made him itch to slap her ass. "I did so want to turn that into innuendo."
"Naughty minx."
She poked her tongue. Her wicked, talented tongue. "Prude."
He barked a laugh and placed his hands on the counter on either side of her thighs, inserting himself between them. "Feed from me, Ara. Take from me now."
She dropped her eyes from his, something almost guilty crossing her expression.
"What is it?" he asked softly.
"I can't keep feeding from you," she murmured.
"Oh? Is my blood ..." He cleared his throat, embarrassed for something that might be beyond his control. "Is my blood not to your liking?"
"No-gods, no. Your blood-" She bit her lip, stifling a growl. "Your blood is delectable. Addicting. But I can't afford to become addicted to you, Freddie."
He trailed his palms up her bare thighs, his gaze drifting over the prim nest of hair that covered her womanhood. She was so comfortable in her own body. So comfortable around him. To have this vampyre in his keeping ... "I would never deny you my blood."
"It's not that. If I keep drinking for you, I'll turn you into a host."
"A host?"
"Your body will produce more blood to keep feeding me. And if I take too long between feedings, you'll become uncomfortable. I'll become entirely too reliant on you. And if I'm honest, Frederick, I think about your blood too much as it is."
"I see," he said softly, unable to understand his disappointment. He'd begun to enjoy being the only one to feed her. There was just something so satisfying about it, to be able to dominate her every sense.
Not to mention the unspeakable pleasure every time she fed from him. He'd begun to wonder ... to fantasize ... just what would it feel like if she bit him in the throes.
He would never know.
"I'm not saying I would seek others for blood," she added hastily. "I'm just saying that I should space feedings. I should only feed from you if I really need it, and that will prevent either of us from becoming reliant on it. It shouldn't be something you offer me regularly. Quite the opposite, in fact."
He raised her palm to his lips and placed a soft kiss inside it. "Of course. You know best in these matters. Thank you for telling me."
She rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. "Thank you for not beheading me in my sleep while I was weak."
"And the little beast is back."
She laughed and held his jaw. "Why is it that after what we just went through, I'm still terrified of kissing you?"
He slid his arms into her robe and wrapped them around her waist. He couldn't get enough of the feel of her skin. Couldn't quell the simple need to touch her. "Why is that, indeed? I don't think you've ever initiated a kiss between us."
She tilted his face up toward hers. "I'd like to fix that. If you'll let me."
"You don't have to ask me," he said, leaning into her. "Whenever the mood strikes, just take it from me. You shouldn't have to ask your own husband."
"My own husband," she murmured, brushing his hair from his forehead. "In name only?"
"What do you mean?"
Her eyes absorbed his whole world. Feline shaped. Earthy. Rich. Those lashes-gods, he loved those thick lashes so much. "Did you seek the comforts of someone else's bed while in Thescan? An old companion, perhaps."
He hadn't, but the nervousness in her voice made him curious. "How would you feel if I did? You said you wouldn't have cared if I'd dragged Lady Lucille into the gardens to fuck her. Am I to believe you were lying?"
Her sigh sweetened his mouth. "All right. So I lied." Frederick's heart sped into a gallop. She did care. "If you took someone else to bed, I would feel devastated. The old me would have wanted to cut your cock off."
"And this new you?"
"Likes your cock too much."
He laughed. "Well, thank the gods for that. But be assured that I did not stray in those nineteen days. I did not even think of bedding another."
"You really missed me that much that you know how far apart we were down to the day?"
"I was pathetic without you." She bit her lip. "You don't believe that I would miss you?"
"You wouldn't have even wanted to be married to me in the first place. Why would you miss me already? I suppose I had expected you to be glad to be rid of me, though I don't think you'd admit it." He studied her for a long while, her cheeks blooming with red. "You can say whatever it is you're thinking, Freddie. I can take your honesty but not your lies."
"You once said that I wasn't forthcoming with my honesty. And I wasn't." A severe understatement. "But I've been parting with a lot of my secrets since you came to Thescan, and I'm not too sure what to make of it yet."
She looked as if she wanted to speak, a flicker of thought crossing her features. "You're right, of course. I've learned much about you recently. Please don't feel obligated to share if my curiosity has been making you uncomfortable."
"It doesn't make me uncomfortable. It just makes me aware. You know much about me now, but I know nothing of you or your past. I part with my secrets, Ara, because I don't part with them freely. These will cost you one day, and you will be expected to pay in the like. Understand?"
Her lips parted. "Why?" she asked quietly. "So you can run to your father and tell him everything about me?"
He winced with regret. "I am sorry for that. But I want to tell you another secret, and though it won't atone for what I've done, perhaps it will put your mind at ease just a little bit."
"Don't," she said hoarsely. "I don't think I can hear this-"
"I chose to marry you, Ara. No one forced me to do it." Her body stiffened. "Bront fled, so the next day I went for a morning ride, just as my father expected me to do. And when I knew my father would be busy at Aldren Heights, I marched right back into the castle. I went to meet with the Gentle King-alone-and I asked to present myself to you instead."
Her nostrils flared.
"He didn't order me. He didn't command me. He didn't force me. He didn't even send for me. He asked if I was sure, and I told him with utmost certainty that I made my decision, and that if you accepted me, I would be marrying you. My father thinks the Gentle King made me do it, and it was easier to let him think that. The truth is, I asked the Gentle King for his permission to present myself to you. I didn't know who you were, but I knew what I wanted."
She yanked her robe shut, unable to look at him as if she desperately needed to put distance between them. "Why?"
"Many reasons. I didn't want you to take offense in Bront's actions. I didn't want to lose the potential alliance with Carnelia. I needed to protect Thescan against Hendlemark's retaliation. Every time I tried to think of how to fix those things, you were my only answer."
She became silent, mulling over his words.
"We both entered this marriage based on what the other could provide," he continued. "But it's different now. It's different for me, and I know it's different for you, too. I think one of the secrets you'll eventually tell me is that you like being my wife."
She gazed at him warily, tension uncoiling from her body. "Yes, well. I bet you didn't imagine someone like me being your wife. I don't look anything like those Thescan beauties. So thin and small and golden-haired."
"I didn't imagine anyone as my wife. I had no expectations in that regard."
She raised a skeptical brow. "You never felt the need to marry?"
"The pressure? Sure. I am rather old for a man to be unmarried. The need? Never."
She blinked. "I don't think I've asked but how old are you, Freddie? When is your birthday."
His mouth tilted at the corner. "I'm thirty-two. My birthday is in the late spring. I celebrated it quietly here in my second week of arriving."
She punched his shoulder and he laughed. "Are you jesting?"
"No, I'm not. But it doesn't matter. I've never cared for such things."
"Oh, yes it does. We will celebrate it at once."
"Forget about it," he said, holding her thighs in place. "Though it's adorable that you care."
"Adorable," she mouthed. "Adorable and me are not words used in the same sentence. Ever. Ensure that no one else in the Star hears you utter such nonsense or I will lose my fearsome reputation."
"I can't help that I find you adorable, Ara."
She scowled. "Stop calling me that. I'll make you regret it."
"Promise?"
She gave an exaggerated sigh, settling her arms around his neck once more. "Peculiar man. To think I almost let you leave forever."
"Would you have?"
Her earthy rich eyes filled his world. He loved her eyes. Could stare at them for hours.
Fuck. Where had that thought come from?
"I didn't even wait a month before I came for you. You know I wouldn't have. But if I was an unselfish creature, I would have let you go ... I should have let you go." The pot frothed and hissed, and Arabella hopped off the counter. Frederick was grateful for the interruption, needing a moment to dispel their confusing intimacy and order his thoughts. Soon. He would have to make a decision soon-would he keep Arabella? "Soup is served."
He accepted the bowl from her, gathered some soup on the spoon, and took his first swallow. Beef. Rosemary. Tomato. Wine. "That is delicious."
"Do save some room for dessert," she said with a wink as she tied the sash about her waist. "Viscon. Gheorge."
Both men appeared, smiles bright on their faces.
"Gods, I was so worried for you," Viscon said as he took Arabella in his arms.
"Yes, yes. I know how you love to worry, Viscon." She parted from him and caressed his cheek before turning to Gheorge. "And what has our troublemaker been up to while I was resting?"
Gheorge grinned. "I've barely had the time to get up to any trouble. What, between catching up with our dear Yessara and enacting your husband's orders-"
"My husband has orders?" she asked, turning to view Frederick.
"I didn't want to waste any time," Frederick said, resting the spoon in the bowl. "The Thescan border took longer than I expected to secure. Viscon has been kind enough to take me back once a day to speak with the King's Council because Thescan's Guardian Stone is broken. And because one Guardian Stone is broken, all the enchantment they held, including communication, has gone with it. So I wrote a letter to all the Star-except for Hendlemark-stating that you are no threat to them, and that you would like to meet them to discuss the terms of a new treaty between your kingdom and theirs at their earliest convenience."
She raised both brows.
"Gheorge was kind enough to liaise with Yessara on our behalf for six new Communication Stones. All six kingdoms in the Star will be able to communicate through these stones-no Binding Spell included. Boralin hasn't accepted it yet-and no one can reach Hendlemark, of course."
"Whose idea was that?" she questioned.
"Frederick's, of course," Gheorge said. "Your husband has been exceedingly busy."
"Dumitri and Vignolo have been searching for information on who assisted Hendlemark but to no avail," Frederick continued. "I didn't know what to do. We have no inkling of what type of power they have assisting them, and I have no idea what threat this power poses to yours. So Dumitri and Vignolo are on their way to Hendlemark to see what they can learn. I told them not to get caught, but I know it's still dangerous. If they have not returned in a week, then someone must go to retrieve them."
"But they're big boys," Gheorge assured. "And they've been in riskier situations. They know not to get into something perilous. Why do you think Frederick didn't send me?"
She said nothing, staring at Frederick for a long while. A long, long while.
Frederick took an awkward sip of his soup. "I didn't want to make too many decisions because I don't know what you wanted to do, but you did give me the power to make some of them in your absence. Did I do the wrong thing?"
"I think I have the perfect gift for your birthday," she said, speaking to herself rather than him.
"Ara?"
"Gentleman, a word," she muttered, and she, Viscon, and Gheorge all vanished.