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"What's your full name," she murmured. "I just realized I know you only as V."
"Vishous."
Jane's hand squeezed his. "Excuse me?"
"Vishous. Yeah, I know it's odd for you - "
"Wait, wait, wait - how do you spell it?"
"V-i-s-h-o-u-s."
"Good... God."
"What?"
She cleared her throat. "Ah, a long, long time ago - a lifetime ago - I sat in my childhood bedroom with my sister. There was a Ouija board between us and we were asking it questions." She looked up at him. "You were my answer."
"To what question?"
"Who...Jesus, who I was going to marry."
V smiled nice and slow, the way a man did when he was feeling pretty damn self-satisfied. "You wanna marry me then?"
She laughed. "Yeah, sure. Let's just jack me into a white dress and do the altar thing - "
His expression lost the tease. "I'm serious."
"Oh... God."
"I don't suppose that's a yes?"
Jane pushed herself upright. "I... I never thought I'd get married."
He winced. "Yeah, okay, that wasn't exactly the reply I was going for - "
"No... I mean, I'm just surprised at how... easy it feels."
"Easy?"
"The idea of being your wife."
He started to smile, but then lost the expression. "We can do the ceremony in my tradition, but it won't be official."
"Because I'm not one of you?"
"Because the Scribe Virgin hates my ass, so there can't be any presentation to her. But we can do the rest of it." Now he grinned with an edge. "Especially the carving."
"Carving?"
"Your name. My back. I can't f**king wait."
Jane whistled under her breath. "Do I get to do it?"
He barked a laugh. "No!"
"Come on. I'm a surgeon, I'm good with knives."
"My brothers will do it - well, actually, I guess you could do a letter, too. Mmm, that gets me hard." He kissed her. "Man, you are so my kind of girl."
"Do I have to get cut?"
"Hell, no. It's done on the males so everyone knows who we belong to."
"Belong?"
"Yup. I'll be yours to command. Lord over. Do what you want with. Think you can handle it?"
"I already have, remember?"
V's lids dropped and he let out a growl. "Yeah, every f**king minute. When can we go to my penthouse again?"
"Name the when and I'm so there." And next time she might find herself a little leather to wear. "Hey, do I get a ring?"
"If you want, I'll buy you a diamond the size of your head."
"Oh, right. Like I'm going to go glam. But how will people know that I'm married?"
He leaned down and nuzzled her throat. "Do you smell me?"
"God... yes. I love it."
He brushed his lips on her jaw. "My scent's all over you. It's inside of you. That's how my people will know who your mate is. It's also a warning."
"A warning?" she breathed, languor suffusing her body.
"To other males. It tells them who will come after them with a dagger if they touch you."
Okay, that shouldn't be erotic as hell. But it was. "You take the mate thing seriously, don't you."
"Bonded males are dangerous." His voice was a low purr in her ear. "We kill to protect our females. That's the way it is." He pushed the covers off her, unzipped his leathers, and palmed her thighs apart. "We also mark what's ours. And as I'm not going to see you for twelve hours, I think I'll leave a little more all over you."
He surged forward with his hips and Jane moaned. She'd had him so many times, but the size of him was always a shock. His hand pulled her head back by her hair, and his tongue shot into her mouth as he churned over her.
Except then he stopped. "Tonight we'll be mated. Wrath will preside. Butch and Marissa will witness. You want a church thing, too?"
She had to laugh. The two of them were both such control freaks, weren't they. Fortunately she was not inclined to fight him on this one. "I'm fine without a service. I don't actually believe in God."
"You should."
She dug her nails into his hips and arched up. "Now is not the time for a theological debate."
"You should believe, Jane."
"The world doesn't need another religious freak."
He brushed her hair back. As his erection twitched inside of her, he said, "You don't have to be religious to believe."
"And you can live a very nice life as an atheist. Trust me." She ran her hands up under his shirt, feeling his strong back. "You think my sister's up in heaven, eating her favorite Fudgsicles on a cloud? Nope. Her body was buried years and years ago, and now there's not much left of her. I've seen death. I know what happens after we go and there's no God to save us, Vishous. I don't know who or what your Scribe Virgin is, but I'm damn sure she's not It."
The barest hint of a smile tilted his lips. "I'm going to love proving you wrong."
"And how are you going to do that? Introduce me to my Maker?"
"I'm going to love you so good and so long you're gonna be convinced no earthly thing could have brought us together."
She touched his face, imagined the future, and cursed. "I'm going to age."
"So am I."
"Not at the same rate. Oh, Jesus, V, I'm going to - "
He kissed her. "You're going to not think about that. Besides... there's a way to slow that down. I'm not sure if you'd be into it, though."
"Oh, jeez, let me think. Um... yeah, I'm into it."
"You don't know what it is."
"I don't care. If it prolongs my life with you, I'd eat roadkill."
His hips moved into her and retreated. "It's against my race's law."
"Is it kinky?" She arched into him again.
"For your kind? Yes."
Jane figured it out even before he lifted his wrist to his mouth. When he paused, she said, "Do it."
He bit down and then put the twin punctures to her lips. Jane closed her eyes and opened her mouth and -
Holy shit.
He tasted like port and hit her as hard as ten bottles of the stuff, her head going on a spin after the very first swallow. She didn't stop. She drank as if his blood would keep them together, vaguely aware through the roaring in her body that he was pumping into her and making wild growling noises.
Now V was inside of her in all ways possible: in her brain with his words and her body with his arousal and her mouth with his blood and her nose with his scent. She was completely taken over.
And he was right. It was divine.
Chapter Forty-three
With the white curtain clutched to her br**sts, Cormia stared across the Primale's temple, dumbfounded. Whoever that male was, he was not Vishous, son of the Bloodletter.
But he was definitely a warrior. He was huge against the marble wall, an absolute giant, with shoulders that seemed big as the bed she was upon. His size terrified her... until she looked at his hands. He had elegant hands. Long fingered, broad backed. Strong yet graceful.
Those elegant hands had freed her. And done none else unto her.
Still, she waited for him to yell at her. Then she waited for him to say something. Finally, she waited for him to look at her.
He had beautiful hair, she thought in the silence. Down to his shoulders and full of so many colors, the waves golden blond and deep red and dark brown. What color were his eyes?
More silence.
She wasn't sure how fast time was passing. She knew it was, as it passed even here on the Other Side. But how long had they kept at this? Dear Virgin, she wished he would say something, except maybe that was the point. Maybe he was waiting for her.
"You are not who..." Her voice gave out as his stare lifted.
His eyes were yellow, a resplendent, warm yellow that reminded her of her favorite gems, the citrines. Truly, she could feel warmth in her body as he looked upon her.
"I'm not who you expected?" Oh... his voice. Smooth and low and... kind. "Didn't they tell you?"
She shook her head, abruptly without voice. And not because she was scared.
"Circumstances changed, and I took my brother's place." He laid his hand upon his broad chest. "My name is Phury."
"Phury. A warrior's name."
"Yes."
