It would be something different, something he relished, something he had not had in a very long time.
That morning after he arrived at the home he shared with his mate, Katrina had been waiting for him.
The minute he closed the door behind him, she unleashed the fury that he knew she’d kept pent up all night waiting for his return.
Even though he was still furious with her for the plot she’d attempted to unleash at Leah’s Selection, she had every right to be angry. A vampire did not sleep with his concubine, not in any sense of that word. He or she didn’t spend the night.
Goodly portions of it, maybe. The entirety of it, never.
Vampires slept with their vampire mates in every sense of that word.
Things might, and often did (and The Dominion turned a blind eye), get out-of-hand at Feasts but not with concubines. The lines were drawn, the boundaries understood and no one, not even Lucien, could break them.
He ignored his mate, something he’d been doing a great deal for the past decade, walked upstairs straight to their bedroom, disrobed and got in the shower.
She followed, not ceasing for even a breath in her blistering tirade.
Lucien was angry with himself for losing control with Leah and nearly taking her life, something which he would miss, even knowing her such a short time. Not only because her blood was heavenly but also because she didn’t intend to grow up until she was ninety-three years old. That was a concept he found intriguing and very much wanted the time to explore.
He was also angry that he’d caused her to experience such unadulterated terror.
Fear was delicious, especially when it was mingled with excitement.
Terror, or at least the terror he’d witnessed from Leah that morning when she woke, was revolting.
Last, and most importantly, no matter how much he tried, he could not get the sound of her saying, her eyes filled with pain and accusation, “You promised,” out of his head.
Therefore, he was in no mood to deal patiently with Katrina.
He stepped out of the shower dripping wet and put a hand to her throat, silencing her invective. He lifted her clean off her feet and slammed her against the wall, her skull cracking against the plaster and held her there, his fingers squeezing.
She clawed at his forearm with her nails to no avail.
He held her squirming against the wall, deftly avoiding her kicking legs until he felt she understood his meaning. Then he dropped her.
She landed lithely on all fours in a graceful crouch, her head snapping back, her cloud of long, black hair falling over her back, her ice blue eyes glaring at him. Her stunning face was contorted with rage.
She was preparing for attack.
“Don’t even think of challenging me.” His demand was quiet and it was lethal.
Indecision flickered in her eyes which was a strategic mistake. She should have long since learned to master any situation and indecision showed weakness.
She was a young vampire, only two hundred years old.
Even so she would never learn. She never had. He’d been trying to teach her for fifty years.
In the beginning she was quite like Leah, young, amusing, challenging, beautiful and perhaps most importantly, unbelievably sexy.
The minute they finalized The Claiming she’d changed. Became possessive, intolerably so, jealous, even of his concubines and until Leah he’d never given her reason for this ridiculous emotion. Demanding to go with him to Feasts (this he did not allow). Resistant to his teachings.
She’d been full of promise when he met her. She’d become a disappointment.
He saw the fluid line of her shoulders fall in defeat, an action that defined his discontent with their pairing and without a word he turned and strode back to the shower.
In the shower, he came to the swift decision to file for Severance. He’d been toying with it for years. Now was the time.
It was not unheard of for vampire mates to sever. It was also not nearly as commonplace as the mortals’ divorce. Vampires, the vast majority of the time, mated for eternity which, being immortal, meant literally.