Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Henrik 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 bonding. His taste, his smell, his touch—it was all-encompassing.
And it was also goodbye.
Unexpected 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 was 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 slid 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, secured it around his shoulders, 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.
Grief. What she felt was grief. Like she’d lost something important, vital, necessary.
Maybe her feelings weren’t surprising, since apparently 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. She’d read it three times, absorbing new details each time that she hadn’t known about her parents. And to think that they might even have approved of her having a relationship with a vampire, and perhaps they might’ve even encouraged it…the file was a gift. One that made her feel more connected to her family than she ever had before.
And it was all thanks to Henrik.
The file had also included a sheet of lab results explaining that her extraordinarily high white blood cell count, a result of the CML, was what they thought 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.
It was more than that, though, wasn’t it? Because a white-hot rage lanced through her blood at the mere thought of Henrik seeking what he needed from another woman.
Not at long as she could give it…
Those weren’t her only thoughts and 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.
Like a calling, a yearning, a magnet looking for its true north.
As the hour of the judging ceremony neared, 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 had no doubt it was from Henrik; in fact she was so certain that she smelled it to see if she could catch his dark spice on the fine fabric.
She couldn’t, and it made her sad. And didn’t that tell her a lot.
Within just three hours, she needed to call Jakob. She needed to make a decision. She needed to have an answer. And even though what her heart wanted was clear, her head still had no earthly idea how to do any of that.
How could you make rational decisions about something so magical?