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K nock. Knock.

Amaros exhaled. He’d been enjoying the room's quiet and soaking in his angel’s presence and hadn’t been ready for any disturbance.

It had been why he hadn’t announced his return but kept his thoughts to himself.

However, vampires had an innate sense of their personal space and particularly their connection to each other.

Even if he had lived in this cathedral for centuries all on his own and one day another of his kind had crossed the boundaries of his territory, he’d know it, feel it in his bones.

Vampires were similar to Lupine in that they liked to mark their territory; however, vampires were more elegant in their manner—just a simple touch and claiming spell worked on things and people.

All in his coven had claimed St. Joseph and the great lands surrounding it. So, he was only passably shocked that one of the leaders hadn’t been so caught up in their fucking or feeding and not felt his return.

Resigned, he rose from his seat on the side of the bed where he’d sat for over an hour, staring at his beauty.

Michaela. She was stunning even in her stillness, and he knew he’d never tire of gazing at her.

This was a good thing since once they were claimed mates, they would be together for centuries, and if he were lucky, they would spend the remainder of eternity beside each other as ancients.

He strolled across the polished floor of his massive chamber toward his door.

He could have sent a wave of his power toward the entrance and forced the person on the other side away, but the person there would serve his purpose and keep him from mentally calling someone to take care of what he’d need.

Amaros drew the heavy door open just enough to meet the bright-blue eyes of the round-faced, redheaded prime on the other side. His tall frame filled the space and blocked any view of anything behind him. Michaela was his; for now, he wanted to keep her all to himself.

The male part of him took some appreciation of what stood before him.

Maeve, as intoxicating as her name, had been dressed in a way that he would find titillating and seductive.

She wore a white corset cinched tight enough that her waist was smaller than the span of his hand, and if she were to draw in a large breath, she’d risk snapping her lower ribs.

The firm snow-white fabric did more than narrow her waist; its real job was at the bodice, where it pushed her breasts into mounds so high and round that when he bit her, her crimson blood would run down and pool into the bowl of her cleavage.

Marceline, his second who knew him so well, had lifted each globe out just enough to artfully display the redhead’s cherry nipples at the edge, a teasing, delectable treat that he usually would not hesitate to pinch, bite, and suckle as he drank from her there.

Or perhaps he would sup from the thick pulsing vein at the crease of her slim thighs right by the wisp of thin, white lace that covered her sex.

Amaros didn’t need to ask the prime woman to turn around for him to know that her ass would be bare and on display, ready for his hand to paint with his prints and fuck.

However, not tonight. As his gaze held her, his fangs had not so much as quivered in preparation for lowering, and his cock was only semi-erect because of the golden-brown beauty lying in repose on his bed. The taste of her sweet, spicy blood was still on his tongue, and he hungered for no other.

“Why are you here, Maeve? Did I call for you?” He knew why she was here, but he still enjoyed toying with the prime even if he didn’t want to scene with her that night.

“Mar—” Apparently, unprepared for the need to explain herself, she pressed her small, blush-red lips together and swallowed before trying again. “Marceline sent me. She said you would need me after your journey, Sire.”

“As lovely as you are, pet. I will not be playing tonight.”

Her face became crestfallen. Even though he’d never entertained Maeve with his dark desires before, primes gossiped between each other, and he was sure she was aware of not only the pain he enjoyed wielding but the exhaustive level of pleasure he doled out as well.

Because of vampire serum, primes’ lust remained at a high level, and their human body craved satisfaction.

Amaros was sure Marceline had probably pulled the redhead from the games that night to ensure she was fresh, garbed, and ready to be caught in his wicked web. He didn’t see that as his problem, and if he turned Maeve away, another vampire might still take her to bed for the day.

“Oh...” She took a step back, prepared to leave. “Then may I bid you a good—”

“I do need you to do something for me?”

Her face perked up. “How may I serve you, Sire?”

“Blood.” When she stepped forward and began to tilt her head to avail the bare, tender column of her throat to him, he continued, “Bring me a carafe of blood every hour until nightfall.”

She covered her disappointment with a smile. “I’ll see it done.”

“Before the first one, I need an empty basin,” he added.

“Anything else, Sire?” The shadows of lust still hadn’t left the redhead’s gaze, but she knew better than to press him on something he’d already denied.

“No.” With that, he closed the door, not watching her walk away but knowing she would scurry to do his bidding.

He wasted no time returning to Michaela. This time, he didn’t sit but stared down at her, watching and taking in her beauty. She was still bare. He could have pulled a sheet over her body, but vampires didn’t own a modest bone, and Michaela, in her state, could not feel hot or cold.

How have I been so blessed to receive such a gift from the Great Spirit ?

As if Michaela wasn’t treasure enough, children were included.

His chest swelled a little with a foreign warmth.

It had been centuries since he’d connected to anyone on such a personal level.

Besides the primes he had turned, no one had ever been under his care in the way the children would be once they were born.

Children . It had been so long since he’d been around little, growing, maturing vampires, and then only briefly when visiting Kenia in Cairo in 1503.

She and her mate, Amdis, had a three-year-old; however, Jezebel, that small child who had become the ruler over Egypt, Kenia giving her child part of her massive continent.

With the disasters of the Great Catastrophes, that child now sat on his council.

A bit of trepidation vibrated through his core, something he would never admit to anyone.

Still, he was bold and strong in his confidence as a ruler, leading powerful vampires and prime through wars and organizing a stable new society and way of life.

However, being a father, he’d only thought of it abstractly in the back of his mind.

After the catastrophes, he hadn’t even believed he would leave the world ever discovering his true mate, so a child never seemed a real possibility.

Now, he would be responsible for three of them.

With Michaela by my side .

Knock. Knock.

As he figured, Maeve would rush to handle his bidding.

At the door, he only opened it enough to take the large steel bowl from the prime.

Who he noticed had changed from the naughty garb to something probably more to her taste: a silk blouse, dark, ruffled, knee-length skirt, and flats on her feet. “The blood in forty-six minutes.”

“Yes, Sire.” She bowed her head.

When he shut the door this time, he headed toward his en-suite bathroom.

Once there, he crossed to the bathtub and set the empty bowl below the faucet.

After choosing a bottle of fresh scented body wash from the collection along the side of the tub, he took the time to squeeze a heavy amount into the basin.

Setting the bottle down, he leaned over, adjusted the water to warm, and allowed it to begin to fill the bowl.

The sound of running water filled the room as he entered the linen closet for a fresh cloth and a few towels.

Even though he loved water, he didn’t have plans to sleep in a wet bed.

When he returned to the tub and noticed sudsy water filling the basin past the halfway level, Amaros turned off the faucet.

He retrieved the bowl and left the bathroom.

At the bed, he set down some of the items at the foot before he carried the three towels with him.

It took him only a moment to gently maneuver the towels beneath her form since, in her state, her body was pliable.

She was in between death and life as her body changed, but in this state rigor mortis would not set in.

However, once Michaela reached the next stage, she would die if she was not supplied with the blood to complete her transformation.

He would not allow that to happen. He would not leave her side because the change could happen in two or three days.

He’d once heard it taking a week. However, he hoped that wouldn’t happen to Michaela.

Amaros had no idea if the babies would last that long in such a state.

In the next minute, his heartbeat was almost painful with the thought they’d lose the children.

Not being a vampire who had ever lived in fear, Amaros shook the morbid thoughts away and went to sit at the end of the bed, where he began washing his angel’s filthy feet.

He noticed her pitiful job of protecting her feet from collecting not only layers of dirt and grime but also cuts and bruises.

However, the sight of them didn’t concern him.

When Michaela's change was complete, those minor abrasions would disappear instantly.