The two were meant to be together. They were mates.
How could he have missed the signs?
Now he was alone.
Perhaps one day he would find a woman who wanted him above all others.
He blinked when he realized vampire Alyssa had glided into the hallway and now stood a few feet away from him.
He scowled. She frowned.
"You smell like a human," she said, her tone flat. "Have you been with one? Is she your one and only?"
Always she asked him a thousand questions. What was he doing? What did he like to eat? What made him happy? Sad? Would he like to kiss her?
He told her what he'd always told her. "What business is it of yours?" He leaped into a quick stride in an effort to escape her.
She followed, keeping pace beside him. "Is she?"
"No," he snapped.
"See! I told you she wasn't. I told you! Because I am. I and I alone can attend to your needs," she snapped back. "You should have come to me."
"And I told you how wrong you are."
His mate would not be vampire. He'd never shared Valerian's love for the race, and he never would.
Alyssa was beautiful, and as usual Shivawn even felt himself stir for a taste of her, but he would never touch her.
Vampires survived on blood, and they sometimes took more than a donor wished to offer. Or often took without asking permission. He'd made the mistake of bedding a vampire only once and had almost died for it. Never again, he'd vowed. Alyssa knew that, but she always sought him out whenever she came to visit.
"Goodbye, Alyssa," he said, and strode away from her.
She wasn't content to remain behind. She never was.
She rushed after him, even jumped in front of him, her eyes aglow. Determination radiated from her. "I've always known I would have you one day, Shivawn, and I've decided today is that day."
She threw herself at him, her lips slamming into his, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. The taste of her filled him in an instant. Not a taste of blood and death, but of woman. Sweet, needy woman.
His body responded.
He might hate himself in the morning, but she could help him forget his loneliness.
"One night," he growled. "That's all I'll give you."
Triumph blazed in her eyes, and her red, red lips curled in a sensual smile. "That's all I'm asking for. For now."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SHAYE LOUNGED AT the edge of the bathing pool. Hot water lapped at her ultrasensitized skin. The scent of orchids filled the room, sweetly perfuming the air with sultry ambiance. She inhaled deeply and savored. Her body was sore, but her spirit was invigorated.
Valerian sat behind her, massaging her shoulders. His magical fingers worked her muscles expertly. He knew exactly where to rub, the precise amount of pressure to apply for optimum enjoyment. Her head lolled back, resting on his shoulder. Steam coated them both.
"Have I thanked you for gifting me with your virginity?" he asked.
"Only a thousand times." She should probably be the one thanking him. She'd never enjoyed herself more. Had never thought losing all control, all sense of her cool facade, could be so blissful.
In the pleasure-filled hours they'd just spent together, she'd realized a few things. She'd given Valerian more than her body; she'd given him pieces of her heart, just as she'd feared. She hadn't meant to, and had tried to guard against it, but it happened regardless.
No matter. Everything would be okay.
He was a nymph, and nymphs liked sex. Lots of it. She would be the one he came to, always; she was going to trust him. Not love him, she assured herself, still distrustful of the emotion itself-but trusting him.
It would be hard, she didn't doubt that, but all the best things were. To keep him in her life she was willing to try anything.
"This means you've forgiven me," he said. A statement not a question.
She gave a mock pout. "I guess it does."
He banged his chest like a gorilla, making her giggle like a girl. "Me man. You woman."
"And that's why I couldn't maintain my mad," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm a sucker for caveman theatrics."
A glint in his eye...
She laughed. "I was kidding, only kidding! Do not turn into a caveman in an effort to please me."
"But I want to please you. I like to please you."
Uh-oh. His voice had lowered. She had better change the subject before he seduced her again.
"I'm too sore," she told him. "But at least your wounds finally healed."
"I believe I mentioned they would heal the moment you surrendered to me."
Lookie there. The nymph version of I told you so. "In romance novels, the heroines always have magic vaginas. I guess with nymphos, it's actually true."