She dried it away with her thumb and smiled. “Why are you crying?”
“I couldn’t honestly tell you.” He laughed softly. “I am just…I am happy, and I should not cry when I am happy, but here we are.”
“How very human of you.”
“Now you’re insulting me!” He glared playfully. “A cruel mistress you turn out to be.”
She kissed him, and he met her full force. She wrapped her arms behind his neck as they embraced. She parted the kiss. “Let’s go,” she whispered.
“Mmhh,” he groaned. “Say it. Please. Say the words to me.”
She smiled down at him. “I love you, Mordecai.”
And with that, she was free.
Maxine could not remember much of what happened. Flashes of imagery. Of wings against a night sky, of ancient stars, of the endless night that he was. Of the feeling of him with her sending her soaring to the extents of the sky in his arms.
She remembered the bliss.
Pure and utter ecstasy had crashed over her. Both hers…and his.
It had been more than simple physical affection. He had been inside her soul. She must have fallen asleep after it ended. She could not remember. Her hand went to her throat to search for a fresh wound that was not there. Someone chuckled beneath her.
“I did not bite you. I am not sure as I could have much managed.”
She looked up and realized she was lying in his arms. They were in his bed beneath the sheets. Both still naked, by the feel of it.
He saw her quizzical expression and reached up to stroke her hair away from her face. “I felt the same as you. I think only by benefit of my years did I manage not to pass out. It was close.”
“I did not pass out,” she tried to argue indignantly, then realized how utterly hopeless it was. She sighed. “I am sorry.”
“For what?”
“I did not know what my gift would do to us. It had exactly the effect I was worried about.”
He stroked her hair. “I am not complaining. That was exquisite. In all my thousands of years, I have never experienced anything like it. I thought I had joined with another in all the ways that were possible. You have taught me otherwise.”
She smiled, her face going warm. “I am sorry I am not more…skilled in the act. To someone like you, I must be quite awful.”
“You have talent, believe me. If you are worried about skill, then…what is it they say? Practice makes perfect?”
She slapped his chest. She tried not to laugh and won but did not manage to keep a smile from escaping. “How long was I out?”
“An hour, maybe less.” He shut his eyes and held her close, a matching smile on his features. “The sun will rise in a few hours’ time, and you will have your ceasefire.”
Snuggling into him, she let her head rest back on his chest. His heart had stopped, and his touch was already cold once more. It didn’t bother her. “Thank you.”
“You realize I will have a rather rabid need to do this again. You will not be rid of me now.”
She laughed quietly and curled her hand against his chest. “Perhaps I will find the inspiration to trade you such a thing again in the future.”
“Ah, I fear that is not how this works. You’re mine now. You are my prisoner of war.” He kissed her forehead, and she felt the playful twist to his lips. “You are powerless now to resist me.”
She tried not to laugh again, and this time failed. She was exhausted, and the idea of sleep was more than welcome. It came for her quickly, and she drifted off to the sensation of his hand drawing lazy circles over her lower back.
He was a monster. But damn if she didn’t want him in spite of it. Damn if this didn’t feel like happiness.
Vlad could still feel her thoughts, echoing in the distance of his mind. Weaker now, as her blood in his body became less and less prevalent, but still there. He could hear her internal debate, but he sensed her surrender to the peace he brought her in his arms.
When they had been joined in body and mind, he heard her love for him, echoing the call of his own. They were meant to be together. No matter her turmoil, he knew now that she truly was his. It was only a matter of time before she came to accept it.
Beautiful child. So sympathetic. So bright-eyed and intelligent.