Taken by the Vampire King

by Laura Kaye

  Usually, such a privilege was reserved for a vampire’s mate, especially given his rank and station. Not that he’d ever been successful at finding a blood match that might’ve led to his joining with a mate. For a single moment, he let himself imagine the immense satisfaction of Kaira’s lips at his throat, her tongue coaxing his blood into her mouth, her body clinging tightly to his.

  His cock punched at the zipper to his jeans and his fangs stretched out against his bottom lip. And that reaction was another consideration. Could he feed her and not make it about sex? He wasn’t even sure it was possible.

  Kaira gasped, her eyes trained on his mouth.

  He almost turned away. But then he thought better of it. It would be good for her to see his true nature now and have the time to wrap her head around it.

  At first, looming panic filled her expression. But then it shifted into what he would’ve sworn was abject fascination. Her respirations quickened, her heart rate thrummed, and the rich scent of her adrenaline filled the air—along with something else. Something hotter, sweeter, more feminine.

  She was aroused. By the sight of his fangs.

  He was merely a shadow of the male he’d once been. No delusions about what he looked like here. Was it really possible that someone as beautiful as Kaira could find him attractive?

  “Kaira,” he said in a rasping warning. If she didn’t stop looking at him like that, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. She blinked and licked her lips. Which didn’t help his restraint one damn bit. He pushed onto his feet and braced his hands on each of the bedrails, a predator stalking her, boxing her in. “You need to understand how weak my restraint is, kjære.” Dear. The term of endearment was out of his mouth before he’d thought to say it. He pulled away.

  She cupped his cheek in her hand, and her touch was like an anchor. Holding him. Steadying him. “So, you need blood to survive?” Her thumb stroked across the skin under his eye. Warm. Soft. Captivating.

  The question unleashed a rising tide of hope. Was she finding her way to being all right with this? And how long had it been since someone had touched him with such gentleness? Momentarily overwhelmed, all he could do was nod. While vampires were capable of ingesting rare meats and spirits, blood provided sustenance like nothing else. It was the one thing he couldn’t live without.

  Kaira’s gaze dragged from his eyes to her own thumb moving over his flesh, and then she looked lower. She shifted her hand until she cupped his jaw. Her thumb caressed the corner of his lips once, twice.

  Henrik’s heart tripped into a sprint. “Kaira.”

  The next slide of her thumb brushed the surface of his fang.

  He sucked in a breath and every muscle went rigid. His hands fisted on the bedrails, attempting to hold himself in place for whatever exploration she wished to conduct. She touched his elongated canine again, a purposeful drag of her skin against the most visible outward manifestation of what he was. The sensation lit up his entire central nervous system.

  Adrenaline and arousal poured off her, and her heartbeat fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings. Her lips fell open. She swiped her thumb under the point of his fang.

  He wasn’t sure who gasped louder.

  She examined her thumb. A thin ribbon of red bloomed on the pad. Her eyes went wide.

  The bedrails under his fists creaked and groaned. He couldn’t look away from her intrigued expression, from her breasts heaving under the thin gown, from the smear of her life’s blood turning the air so fragrant he could barely maintain rational thought. “If I...let go...I’m going to be...all over you,” he growled. “Get rid of it.”

  She hesitated for only a moment, then pressed her thumb to her own lips.

  * * *

  What the hell are you doing, Kai? she thought as she sucked at the cut on her thumb. The cut made by his fang. You have no idea what you’re playing with here. He’s not like you.

  She knew that was true, felt it down into her very marrow. Part of it was her own fascination with the man, the vampire, before her. And part of it felt like an unseen force, as if a part of her psyche was being drawn to him against her will.

  Henrik’s big body loomed over her, his muscles so taut they popped under the tight shirt. The whole bed trembled under the strain of his restraint. Trained on her mouth, his eyes glowed and threw off sparks like a pair of spotlighted diamonds. His nostrils flared. He panted and shuddered.

  The dark promise of his words hung in the space between them. I’m going to be all over you.

  Kaira had never been more aroused in her life, hadn’t even known her body was capable of feeling this way, nearly vibrating with life and need and want.

  His desire heated the entire room, beaded her nipples and dampened her panties. She’d never felt so wanted, not surprising since her illness did little to attract the opposite sex. But it was more than that. It wasn’t just that some man desired her, it was that this one did.

  Immortal. Powerful. Royal.

  And she possessed the ability to help him.

  She pulled her thumb from her mouth.

  The sound of cracking plastic exploded from under Henrik’s right hand.

  And then he was on her. Though not the way she expected.

  He grasped her face and planted his mouth on hers. His hands dug into her hair as his big body climbed over hers. He worshipped her with devouring kisses, his hands fisting and opening with each kiss and withdraw.

  Sexual heat radiated off him and soaked into her depths. A soft growl rumbled in his chest and she longed to feel it against her own. Yet, he kept his weight off her, almost like he was afraid to fully yield to the chemistry pulling them together.

  Kaira’s heart broke into a gallop, making her gasp for oxygen around his demanding, desperate kisses. His big hands tilted her head and tugged at her hair, and she let herself be guided. When he pushed his tongue into her mouth, dizziness swamped her. His incredible male spice was a thousand times more potent on her tongue. Hunger erupted deep inside her and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He groaned and shook, his muscles nearing full-out tremors. What would it be like if he let loose that tremendous restraint? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Or that she could handle it if he did.

  Her tongue brushed something hard and unyielding. His fang. She moaned into the kiss and he growled and surged forward, pressing her back into the pillows. His body overflowed the narrow bed and so completely encompassed hers that he was all she knew, all she smelled, all she tasted.

  A warm tingling heat gathered low in her belly and her hips tilted and rocked of their own accord. Her body yearned for friction, for contact, for penetration. The fact that her experience was so limited made these desires new and scary, but no less intense. She whined and whimpered and tugged at his broad shoulders.

  With one strong arm, he shifted their bodies. Kaira didn’t really notice until the next thrust of her hips brought the aching place between her legs up against something warm and hard. She unleashed a strangled scream into the kiss and thrust again. Squeezing her thighs, she realized he’d slid his leg between hers. She rubbed herself against his thigh, alternating between holding her breath and gasping for air as she chased the maddening pressure growing within her core.

  For just a second, her bottom lip pinched and stung. Until Henrik unleashed an animalistic grunt and suction pulled at the small wound made by the Soul Eater.

  She was bleeding. And he was drinking it down.

  Fear and arousal shot through her veins in equally shocking amounts, followed by the dragging heat of lust.

  But now that she’d acknowledged her fear, it escalated, tearing her in two between what her body wanted and what her head thought was right...was safe.

  His lips tugged hers and she caught a flash of brilliant light from his eyes.

  And then blinding white light was all she saw. The orgasm ripped through her in a wave of breath-stealing contractions. She wrenched her head against the pillows, every
muscle in her body taut.

  On the way back down, her fear went volcanic. What did I just do?

  Kaira beat on his chest and shoved at his shoulders and pushed with her feet. “Nei! Stoppe!” she cried. “Nei!”

  On a growl, Henrik lurched away until he was on his knees above her. His chest heaved. His fangs protruded. And his lips were coated in the dark red of her spilled blood.

  Hunger rolled off him in waves of potent energy.

  He was nowhere near sated.

  Chapter 8

  The taste of copper spilled onto her tongue as three men exploded into the room. They grabbed Henrik’s arms and dragged him backward off the bed.

  Henrik unleashed a feral growl. He flailed and fought. The men struggled to contain him and in a coordinated move, slammed him to the floor.

  Kaira gasped and scrabbled off the bed. “Stoppe! You’re hurting him! Stoppe!” Granted, she’d freaked out and wanted him off her, but that didn’t mean she wanted him roughed up like this. Wasn’t he their king? How could they treat him this way? They ignored her pleading as Henrik continued to struggle. She grabbed at the closest vampire’s arm. “Please. He didn’t do any—”

  His elbow busted her in the cheek.

  For a second, all she saw were silvery white stars. She groaned and clutched her face, stumbling back from the melee. Warmth spilled against her palm. Damnit. So stupid. She never should’ve approached them like that.

  Henrik’s roar reverberated off the walls.

  Kaira looked up to find bodies strewn around the king as he rose to his feet. His breathing was a freight train, a growl rumbling out on each exhale. Fangs extended and flashing eyes narrowed, he took one step toward her, then another.

  Jakob burst through the door. “Hva faen?” What the fuck? “Henrik, nei!” He lunged for his brother.

  Not again. “Jakob, stoppe!” She held up the hand not busy covering the new cut she now wore on her cheek. “Leave him alone. They jumped him. He didn’t do anything. Just...give him a minute.”

  Jakob reared back, hands in the air, just as Henrik whirled on him and gnashed his teeth.

  The king’s eyes flashed back to hers and zeroed in on the hand pressed to her cheekbone, the one hopefully offering enough pressure to staunch the bleeding. Kaira’s heart pounded but her gut told her he would keep his word. He wouldn’t hurt her.

  Though she’d never seen him like this before. Eyebrows an angry downward slash, fangs so big they were almost animal-like, hair wildly disheveled, shoulders bunched and arms at the ready. He shook his head and mumbled unintelligibly like he was arguing with himself.

  The other men slowly climbed to their feet.

  Kaira’s eyes made a sweep around the room. She thought back to the blood on her thumb, how he’d barely been able to resist it. Her blood flowed openly now, yet none of the others seemed to share his struggle. Was this part of whatever was wrong with him? She didn’t know, but she did know if she didn’t help calm him, the other four vampires were going jump him again. Their bracing muscles, readied stances and silent communications made that perfectly clear.

  Before fear got the better of her, she pushed off the wall and stepped toward him. “Henrik?”

  His gaze flashed to her and tracked her progress. A rumble rolled through his chest.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Keeping her voice light, she said, “If one of you makes a move for him, I will kill you.” Not that she could. She knew it. They knew it. But she was satisfied to see they’d listened. Henrik spun at them and growled. “Hey, now, Henrik. Look at me. It’s okay.”

  As if in slow motion, he obeyed. She took another step. “Don’t,” he growled.

  “It’s okay. Come back to me now, you hear?” She forced the knot of fear down her throat with a hard swallow. If she could just get to him, she believed she could get through to him, too. But as she took another step, his muscles jerked and his hands fisted, all around offering a pretty good impression of a trapped, cornered animal.

  “Kaira, don’t,” Jakob said in a low voice.

  She waved him off. Why was she doing this? Why was she taking this chance with her life? In truth, she didn’t know the answer, she simply felt she had to, that it was what she was supposed to do...because she was the only one who could. Suddenly, she knew that was the truth. He’d even said as much—without her, he had no chance at survival.

  Determined, she grappled for something to say that might connect to the real him, the him she’d talked to earlier. A thought came to mind. “Hey, did you know that many people believe you shouldn’t wave or sing or whistle at the northern lights?” Something flickered behind his eyes. “It’s supposed to attract spirits to come down from the sky and take you away.” She took another step. One more and she’d be able to reach out and touch him. “They say you can fend off the spirits by clapping your hands.”

  A single tight nod. She would’ve sworn it.

  Holding her breath, her final step closed the distance between them and she curled her free hand around his rocklike fist. The men behind him tensed, but she threw a glance to Jakob, begging him to stay back.

  “Hey.” She smiled. “It’s Kaira.”

  “Hurt you,” he said, glaring at the hand still pressed to her face.

  That’s what he was so wound up about? Her getting hit? Her heart swelled in her chest. “Just a bump. It was my fault. I guess you shouldn’t come up behind a group of fighting vampires. Lesson learned.” She stroked her thumb over his knuckles.

  His hand flinched, then slowly relaxed. He slipped his fingers between hers and gripped almost painfully hard. Like he was scared to let her go. Surely her chest couldn’t contain a heart as big as hers felt just then.

  “Come sit with me,” she said, tugging him toward the bed. “Let’s just relax for a minute.”

  He sat heavily, all the fight just draining into the floor beneath him. Kaira took a step around him to sit, but he tugged her until she stood between his knees.

  His forehead slumped against her breastbone and his shoulders sagged. He released a long, shuddering breath.

  Tears pricked the backs of Kaira’s eyes. Defeat rolled off him. If this whole episode really was part of whatever ailed him, she could totally relate—how many times had she felt so sick that she gave into a moment of despair. Though she worked hard to remain positive, sometimes the unfairness of it was more than a person could bear. Maybe it was like that for him, too. She stroked her free hand over his hair. Oh, so soft! She wouldn’t have guessed it, but it was like dragging her fingers through thick strands of pure silk.

  Minutes passed before his breathing returned to normal. Occasionally, his big body trembled against hers.

  She glanced up...to find four huge vampires absolutely gawking at her.

  * * *

  Red-hot shame and a profound sadness rooted Henrik in place, head against Kaira’s breast. The beat of her heart in his ear was the sweetest music. He concentrated on the sound, because he wouldn’t be hearing it for much longer.

  Without question, her blood attracted him, satisfied him, and was almost indisputably what he’d been needing all these long years. Even now, her sweet crimson coated the inside of his mouth and fueled his body with a small dose of vitality he hadn’t felt in so long.

  But he was a complete and utter train wreck.

  How could he possibly saddle her with a male so despicably weak—assuming she would ever want him? He couldn’t. Not when he didn’t know for sure that her blood would cure him, if the cure would be temporary or lasting, or if it would take days or decades to return him to the male he’d once been—a male deserving of a creature like her.

  Christ, when he thought back to what she’d done. Fought for him against his warriors, put herself in harm’s way, single-handedly pulled him back from the brink... After all the ways he’d wronged her, why had she done any of it? And just to sink the dagger a little further into the heart of him, she’d gotten hurt for her effor
ts.

  His fingers landed on the outsides of her thighs, clutching her just a little tighter. He breathed deeply, taking some of her incredible sweet scent into his lungs and, hopefully, his memory, too.

  Before he lost the will, he gently pushed her back and rose from the bed. He cupped her uninjured cheek in his hand and kissed her forehead, his mouth filling with saliva at the luscious scent of her blood. “You are free to go,” he rasped. “Upon the nightfall, Jakob will return you to your hotel.” He made for the door.

  “What? Henrik, I thought—”

  The closing door cut off the rest of her words. A thousand pins and needles erupted against the palm of his right hand. He fisted it, refusing to linger on what that sensation might mean.

  That, if he took her, they might blood match.

  That, if they matched, she might become his mate.

  That, if she were his mate, he might actually be able to live again.

  But why in the name of all that was right and holy would she want him? And how could he possibly ask her to?

  He wasn’t sure where he was going. He just needed motion, the distraction of putting one foot in front of the other. After a while, he ended up in his office on the opposite end of the compound from the infirmary.

  Sitting heavily in the big leather chair behind his desk, his gaze fell on a folder lying dead center. Hadn’t been there before. Idly, he flipped it open.

  SUBJECT: Kaira Sorensen

  LAST KNOWN ADDRESS: Røsågade 7, 3. Floor, Copenhagen, Denmark

  “Faen i helvete,” he muttered. Bloody hell. The dossier he’d asked for.

  Even though he knew he shouldn’t—he really fucking shouldn’t—read another word, his eyes refused to heed his brain and continued to skim over the page.