Page 2 of Little Mate

I need my scent to embed deep, to meld with her very essence, almost more than I crave her blood. Because the moment I mark her, to everyone she will smell of me. Of this man—beast—that will kill without remorse if anyone comes near his queen. Every muscle in my body—every single molecule in my vampiric DNA—accepts her, and I don’t pause until I’m outside my bedroom door.

It’s then that I make out her heartbeat. This thump, thump, thump lulls me into a state of serenity I’ve never experienced before. That I don’t know how to feel about. It’s confusing yet intriguing, and I’m hungry for a taste of the woman responsible.

“Motherfuck,” I hiss out, rubbing a hand over my thick cock and press down hard enough to alleviate the uncontrollable need to mount her, but it only serves to make it worse. So much fucking worse when I hear her take in a deep breath of her own, pulling me into her small lungs and letting out a breathy sigh.

Such a sweet little sound. So perfect.

Then, there’s the shift in my mattress, the small rustling of sheets I can hear, and I’m barging in without a second thought. The door slams against the wall; her plump mouth lets out a squeak and head turns in my direction.

The second I see her face, I’m done for. Nothing fucking matters.

I’ll live and breathe for my pretty girl.

1

THEODORE ASTOR

VAMPIRE KING

Three months ago…

“You’re far from the protection of your forest, old friend,” I say, feeling a large presence fill the inside of my office, his aura too huge to contain. Looking up from the paper I was reading, I sit back and meet his green eyes. “Come for a drink, or…?”

“You’re older than me, Theodore.”

“And yet, I could pass for your son.”

His chuckle is dry, posture stiff. “Not true. My children are all under twenty-one summers.”

I arch a brow, but my lips curl up a bit at the corner. “Why are you here, Paolo? Are you hiding from Leonora?”

“No.” He shifts, hands gripping the back of the chair across from my desk. “She sent me here.”

“Why?”

“I need your help, Theodore.”

This isn’t the proud man I know. He’s not one for unannounced visits or drawing out conversation.

Then, there’s the scent of death surrounding him. It’s harsh, almost sulfur-like in its earthy yet acrid fragrance that cloaks those who are ready to pass.

Vampires can sense this.

It distinguishes a fresh food source from the old and unappetizing. All beasts—animals—have this sixth sense tattooed into their DNA.

We enjoy the kill. The chase. Fresh blood.

Leaning back in my seat, I tilt my head to the side while waving a hand toward the chair he’s gripping. The invitation is there, and he takes it while I appraise his every move. Something smells foul. “Speak.”

“You smell it?” The warlock king sighs, scrubbing a heavy hand down his face at my nod. “I’ve done what I can, so my people don't sense it, but it grows nearer. Fate is a cruel mistress and unavoidable. What’s written in the book of life must be.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“I have. Si.” Paolo taps two fingers against his forehead. Much like one of his twin daughters, the man has the gift of sight. His clairvoyance is subjective to touch and the paths presented, while hers comes freely, a gift with use but not one that entices me. The other one, though... “The time draws near.”

“And the rest of your family?” At my question, Paolo produces a set of scrolls and a sealed letter from the right pocket of his long black robe. The hood’s down, and his shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair hangs limply. “What’s this?”

“I come asking for a favor, Theodore.”

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