My mouth drops to her throat. I drag my tongue across her skin, slow and deliberate, coating the spot where my fangs will go with the numbing agent.“This will not hurt you. I promise.”
“I trust you.”
I keep thrusting. Her second orgasm crests. Her body locks around mine. She is coming, hard and tight and clenching down on my cock.
I sink my fangs into her throat.
There is a flash of pressure. No pain. Only pleasure. She cries out, a long wordless cry, her orgasm crashing into the bite and into me and into the bond.
I drink from her.
The taste of her blood floods my senses, and I lose what is left of my mind. My own release crashes through me at the same moment. I empty myself into her, in long deep jets, the breeding biology of the Calling delivering everything my body has held back for two weeks. I keep coming, more than I thought possible. She takes all of it. The seed leaks down between us already, there is so much of it.
I drink deeper. The bond locks into place between us. Finally, I lift my head from her throat. My mouth is wet and my eyes are hot. “You are mine, Hazel,” I rasp.
“Yours.”
I collapse beside her and pull her against me and hold her there, tight, as we both come down. She is shaking. So am I. I have never felt anything like this in my entire life.
I press my forehead against hers and breathe.
We sleep.
When I wake again, the light around the curtains has changed. Soft early evening now. Not afternoon anymore. The room is quiet.
Hazel sleeps beside me, naked, tangled in my sheets. Her hair is fanned across my pillow. Her cheek is pressed against my chest.
I look at her throat. The bite mark has already healed. A pale, neat scar at the curve of her neck. A need rumble of possession growls through my chest. My claim. It is beautiful. I trace it lightly with the tip of one finger.
She stirs. Her lashes lift. She catches me looking. “Is it there?” She lifts her hand and touches her own throat. Her fingers find the small smooth scar. A wondering smile breaks across her face. “How do it look?”
“Devastating.”
She laughs, low and tired and happy. I pull her against me. She tucks herself into my side.
My hand spreads across her flat stomach. “There is a child there now,” I inform her. “Or there will be by morning. I can already scent the change.”
Her hand covers mine on her stomach. “Already? That’s wonderful.”
I lean down and kiss the top of her head. “I will spend the rest of my life proving you made the right choice, Hazel.”
“You already have, Viktor.”
I sit up slowly and bend down to kiss her temple. “Come. Let us take a shower and get dressed so we can eat and go see our daughter.”
She smiles up at me warmly from the pillow. “Yes,” she agrees. “Let’s go see our girl.”
Epilogue
Hazel
Three Months Later
I standin front of the tall mirror in my bridal suite and I can’t quite believe what I am looking at. An actual bride. In an actual wedding dress. About to marry a vampire prince.
The dress is gorgeous with a Krovenian-style empire waist that gently accommodates my small three-month bump, modest cap sleeves and a long flowing satin skirt to the floor. Viktor researched Earth weddings and made sure the dress incorporated my traditions too, so it has a touch of lace at the bodice the way I had described to the seamstress. Simple. Elegant. Princess-bride enough but not over the top. I am just barely showing, the baby bump only really visible if you know it’s there.
Late summer light pours through the tall windows of my suite. From here I can see down to the great lawn where the ceremony will be held. White chairs are arranged in two gracefularcs facing a small archway draped in greenery and wildflowers. The Krovenian gardens are golden in the late afternoon sun.
