The Alpha's Mate and the Vampire King
The Alpha’s Mate and the Vampire King Chapter 10

Viktor teleported directly into the center of the Komora, landing behind one of the pillars lining the courtyard. The large pavilion housed hundreds of female Prajna, most of which served him directly.

Some worked in the castle or at various trades around the town outside of Castra Nocte. Others were here solely to feed the king. It was a practice existing since well before Viktor had ever been born.

Their families sent them to Viktor, gifting the females as if they were chattel to be traded. He knew their hope was he would choose one and b***d-bond with her. Or, at the very least, they hoped to gain favor with their liege.

He was always clear with his intentions, plainly communicating that bonding to any of the ladies of the Komora would never happen, but the families sent them anyway. He pitied the ones who were timid, who weren’t shrewd enough to know they were expected to fulfill his every desire, not just give their b***d.

Those were the ones he made sure learned some sort of trade immediately. They needed some way to replace a purpose outside of his feeding room. He did not want to feel as if he was taking advantage.

As the years passed, however, and the females became accustomed to their newfound freedom, many of them grew bold. Some became aggressive, vying for his attention. Those were the ones he called for most often. The King greatly enjoyed a willing body, and enjoyed it often.

He never let himself dwell on the concept of the Komora for long. He’d always believed he had done as best he could for those living within its walls. By his standards, their arrangement was mutually beneficial.

Viktor gave the females a comfortable place to stay and encouraged them to pursue whatever was of interest, including other males. His soldiers and guards fed them, and, if the females were willing, they fed his men. Over the decades, several had even mated. All with his blessing.

If any of them moved out of the Komora, they were quickly replaced. A constant b***d supply was imperative to Viktor and his army. He’d always believed the Komora would be here at the ready, no matter to whom he was wed.

He assumed his men would continue their arrangement and Viktor would, as well. He’d never contemplated marrying for love, much less replaceing his sieva.

Now, standing here in the small courtyard, he questioned his egotistical assumption. Seeking out these females did not feel right.

Viktor didn’t really want to be here. It had been years since he’d even stepped foot into their living space, but he needed b***d—a great deal of it—fast. His hands hadn’t stopped shaking since he’d touched his mate’s most intimate of places.

He needed to take care of his needs immediately, preferably in one of the private feeding rooms where few could witness his maniacal state. The females slept communally but preferred to feed and be fed in private. S*x almost always followed and, while free with their bodies, orgies weren’t what they desired.

Burying his rampant thoughts, Viktor stepped out from the column. The few Prajna near him halted. The King had never ported here unannounced.

Viktor grabbed one of the closest females, pulling her close. She pressed against his quaking body, batting her eyelashes.

You will meet me in the feeding room across from the bathing chamber, he commanded.

Shall I come with you now, my liege? she asked in a sultry tone, her hand rubbing over the rigid flesh barely contained in his trousers. I am at your service.

No. Go gather others. Today I’ll need more than one.

Viktor released her and strode towards the room to prepare it for his multiple guests.

Others? she asked. How many do you require?

Ten. No, a dozen.

Her eyes grew big. Occasionally he took two at a time. Once, long ago, he’d fed from three. He’d been wounded and needed to heal.

Now! he snapped. He was King. He would not explain himself.

For a second, Eden didn’t move. She couldn’t fathom what had gone wrong. How could he give her such physical delight, then simply vanish?

Something had spooked him, and it had something to do with her b***d. She was under the impression he was supposed to want her b***d, not run away from it.

Was the b***d down there … different? Had it displeased him? It wasn’t like she could control it. Eden was untouched. Viktor should have expected b***d at some point.

During her lessons on wifely duties, she learned bleeding was customary the first time. Surely, he would have been taught the same, even if he had never been with a virgin. Though, technically, what he had done to her wasn’t exactly s*x.

Eden worried her body’s response had turned him off, that she’d reacted too wantonly. It had all felt natural, but she was his virgin mate, maybe she should act like one.

She’d gone from one extreme to another. First, not once in her life had she ever had any inclination whatsoever to seek out a male. Then, after meeting a tall, dark, and dangerous vampire, she was having a fit to get the male inside her. Her face colored in shame.

Eden was offended by his desertion, but mostly she was disappointed. She finally experienced something wonderful, only to have it ripped away.

The constriction in her chest was one she hadn’t felt in years. She felt inadequate. Her feminine wiles, what little she possessed, had not been enough to keep the male who claimed she was his fated mate.

The cicatrice answered with its reassuring power, telling her she was incorrect. He had ardently participated, done things to her to ensure she was satisfied. The problem must be something else.

Picturing his tortured face took away some of the sting. She considered going to look for him, but with his ability to teleport, he could be anywhere.

Moreover, her clothing was destroyed. Leaving the room naked was not an option. At least her favorite boots were still intact.

Eden leaned forward to remove them and winced. She was a little sore. Ignoring the slight irritation from his brief penetration, she unzipped her boots and put them next to the fireplace.

She gathered what was left of her clothing and threw it into the flames. Eden used her magic to make sure the fire burned hot enough to turn the rags into ash. She left on the glove, no longer trusting a soul-bond was in her immediate future.

Several drops of b***d, mixed with her own fluids, trickled down the inside of her thigh. She watched as it slowly inched down her leg, reflecting the glint of light from the flames.

Mesmerized, she watched until it reached the floor. It reminded her of the room’s ornamentation. Dark. Morose. Fitting of a being known as Heartless.

Eden found it perplexing how an act which had wrenched nothing but pleasure from her body had also caused minor damage. She had been in such ecstasy, she’d felt nothing else. Not until he’d ported away from her.

With nothing else to do, Eden went into the bathing chamber. It was old-fashioned. Fortunately, it did have a system of running water and stones for heating. Though, elementals who could control fire had no need of heated stones.

She filled the bathing pool, which was too large to be called a tub. It was square, with stone steps on all four sides leading down to deeper water. If Viktor was standing in the center, the water would be up to his chest.

Around the edges were various soaps and sponges sitting in expensive-looking dishes. There were far too many for one person. Just like his bedroom, his bath was opulent.

Once the water level was high enough, she removed the glove, put both hands into the water, and pushed heat down into the pool. She continued until steam rose off the surface. Then she lowered her body into the delicious warmth.

As she washed, she imagined Viktor returning and joining her. She wanted his hands on her again, despite his earlier behavior. She hated herself a little for it.

It would have been easier for Eden if he’d spoken, communicating whatever had spooked him. Instead, he said nothing and she was left to make sense of it on her own.

She felt a headache coming on. They always came when she was close to losing herself to her emotions. Her father believed it was due to the tension that resulted from never allowing herself to feel what she should.

With the evidence of their activities washed away, Eden drained the pool and pulled air currents to dry her hair. She had control over more than fire, though, her father had advised her to never disclose all that she could do.

Eden put the glove back on, feeling exposed without any other clothing. She entered Viktor’s dressing room and took one of his shirts. It swallowed her, but it covered down to her knees, so it would do.

Rolling up the sleeves, she walked back to the fire, hoping to replace a book on the mantel or something to keep her occupied. She stepped in something cold and wet. It was the remnants from earlier.

Eden looked at the chair, but the fabric was too dark to tell if it, too, was wet. She ran her hand over the fabric and felt a miniscule amount of dampness. Her fingers itched, as if they wanted to burn it away.

She returned to the bathing chamber and brought out a damp cloth with a bit of soap on it. She scrubbed the rug until the stain was no longer visible, then she cleaned the chair.

The white cloth now had a slight discoloration. Soiled, but not ruined. How fitting.

Not wanting any trace of whatever had upset Viktor lying around, she threw it in the fire and watched it burn.