Fingers interlaced, they crossed the room to the bathroom in the corner, where earlier she'd showered and dressed. Henrik flipped on the light and froze, his gaze glued to the mirror. At first, his expression gave nothing of his reaction away. "You should know it may not last."
Her heart squeezed. She threaded her arm through his and met his reflection's gaze. "I hope it does, only because maybe it means your illness is cured. Or better, at least." She tugged him to face her and placed her hand over his heart. "But, Henrik, the man who saved my life, who attracted and intrigued me, who admired my work and who made me feel things I've never felt before-that man is in here." She pressed her skin more firmly against his and struggled with how to phrase what she next wanted to say. "No matter if your eyes are dark or pale, that man will still be here, for me."
"But you deserve a male who-"
She pushed onto her tiptoes and kissed him. It broke her heart to think he feared she couldn't accept him because of how his illness had changed him on the outside. Her heart? So much had happened in such a short time, she couldn't say for sure how she felt about all of it. But there was no doubting that her heart was involved.
When she pulled away, his eyes flashed a vivid, warm blue.
"So what does the mating mark mean in practical terms?"
He licked his lips, the tip of a fang peeking out. "I agree with the magic, Kaira. I feel like I have been waiting for you my whole life. Not just because your blood has the ability to heal me, but because when I am with you, I feel whole in my heart. I feel peace in my soul. We know very little else about one another, and I understand this is all very fast in human terms." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his tenderness so remarkable for someone so big, so powerful. "But to answer your question, the mark gives us the opportunity-three days-to decide whether to become mates, to build a life together, with you at my side as my queen and my partner. I would share my whole life with you, my blood, and, if this healing takes, I should be able to share my immortality with you, too."
Her brain struggled to keep up with the flow of truly amazing information. That real feelings had already taken root in his heart. That she could have a place to belong. And that she could be with him...forever. "You said the mark gives us three days?"
He nodded. "There is a ceremony that consummates the mating, but it has to be performed within three days of when the mark was made, or it will fade, and the opportunity to mate will go with it."
Three days? How was she supposed to decide what essentially amounted to the rest of her life-and a version of her life she never could've imagined before this moment-in just seventy-two hours?
He kissed her with warm, soft, commanding lips. Looking her right in the eye, he said, "This is why I said you have a decision to make. Everything about our time together has been intense and overwhelming. I know that. And I don't want you to feel any more pressured than you already do." His hands slipped around the back of her neck and massaged. "I want you to go back down to Tromsø."
"What?"
"Wait. Just listen. I want you to go into town and enjoy the rest of your exhibit and the judging ceremony the day after tomorrow."
"How did you know about that?"
"I have been thinking about this all day, about what would happen if we matched. So much will change for you. I know the sacrifices are unfairly weighted on your side. No matter what, I didn't want you to have to give up something you've obviously worked so hard at and have such a talent for."
At those words, her heart got a whole lot more involved. She hadn't had to say it, or beg for it, or rail about the injustice of it. He'd just known how important the show and her photographs were to her. He got it.
And, honestly, she had no one in her life. No family. No real roots. The sacrifices weren't as many as he thought.
"I won't send you alone," he continued. "One of my warriors will drive you down and get you checked in at a hotel right in the center of town."
"I don't need-"
"Yes, you do. I won't have it any other way." He arched an eyebrow that was as sexy as it was humorous. "He'll stay in town with you, out of sight but watching over you just in case. I will give you a phone number. After the show, call and let Jakob know what you've decided. I will respect your decision, Kaira, whatever it is."
A tidal wave of emotion crashed over her. Confusion. Fear. Uncertainty. Excitement. Love.
Love?
Very possibly love.
"I don't know what to say."
He pulled her in for a long, slow kiss, one she felt into the tips of her left-hand fingers and all the way down to her toes. His arms wrapped around her and he bent her back with his height and the intensity of their connection. His taste, his smell, his touch-it was all-encompassing. And it was also goodbye. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes before they'd even broken apart.
She'd remember that kiss for the rest of her life. Which is exactly what he intended. Just in case.
He pulled away and caught a stray tear with his thumb. "I don't want you to go. I need you to know that I want you. I want you, Kaira Sorensen. And I hope to God you come back to me." Another stray tear straggled to his hand holding her face. "But, for now, I want you to get dressed. My warrior will be waiting right outside the suite ready to take you back. Go, and live your life, and think this through." His voice cracked and he swallowed roughly. "And kick some ass in the competition."
Kaira gave a sad laugh, and two more fat tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. "Okay," she whispered, though agreeing to leave him felt like a ten-pound weight had taken up residence on her chest.
"Okay," he whispered in return. He pressed a long kiss to her forehead.
She slipped out of his robe, hating to part with it when she was losing him, too.
He accepted it and stepped to the door. Just when she was sure he wouldn't look back, he did. "Goodbye, min kjære."
* * *
Kaira ghosted through the next two days. Her sleep was fitful. Her concentration was shot. Her appetite was gone.
As much as the exhibit and the competition continued to excite her, most of the time she felt out of place and out of sorts. Like this world-the one which she'd known her entire life-wasn't real. And the real world, the one with vampires and Soul Eaters and an ancient war of immortals-and a vampire king, her vampire king-was nowhere to be found.
Not surprising, perhaps, since her father had known of Henrik's world and been a part of it himself. At least, that's what the file said that had been slipped in among her belongings. The one that also included a sheet of lab results explaining that her extraordinarily high white blood cell count, a result of the CML, was what served as the curative property for Henrik's illness. Did that mean anyone with her same disease could do what she'd done for him? She didn't know the answer. And she wasn't sure she wanted to.
Those weren't her only questions, either. What would she do as queen? What did that even mean? And what if Henrik wasn't cured long-term? What if he died? What if his blood couldn't cure her leukemia? Their doctor had no training to treat her. How would she get the care she needed so she could live as long as she could?
There were so many unknowns that she was paralyzed-trapped between the wild yearnings of her heart and the logical misgivings of her head.
And it didn't help that a mild but continuous sensation of pins and needles continued to play over the skin of her left hand.
As the hour of the judging ceremony, Kaira paced her posh room at the city's nicest hotel in an incredible beaded silver gown that had been delivered anonymously the previous morning. She was so certain it was from Henrik that she smelled it to see if she could catch his dark spice on the fine fabric. That she couldn't made her no less certain.
In just three hours, she needed to call Jakob. She needed to make a decision. She needed to have an answer. And she had no earthly idea how to do any of that.