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The Vampire King's Hybrid Mate

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forbidden
possessive
love after marriage
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kickass heroine
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werewolves
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"Why do I have to get married to you for that? Can't you just tell them that I'm your--" I stopped myself before the word could leave my mouth.

His eyes twinkled with amusement, and he raised his eyebrows in question. "You're my?"

I gulped, before clearing my throat. "I'm not even eighteen yet. How can I get married?"

"Youll be turning eighteen pretty soon. And you think your age matters to them, my Love? There is no concept of age in revenants. We stop aging when we turn. No one even knows how old they are, and honestly, even I'm not certain that I'm really twenty."

I pursed my lips, an uneasiness spreading in my chest. "You're their King, Draco. Pull some strings."

"I may be their King, but there are rules even I cannot break. Why can't you just trust me? I won't touch you until you're eighteen, I promise. I cannot ask them to fight for a werewolf pack, Imara. Not until you're my wife, not until you're their Queen."

I clenched my jaw, my eyes narrowing. "You cannot? Or you just don't want to?"

A chuckle escaped his lips, his pointed canines almost shining under the light. He looked to the side, before meeting my gaze again. Draco stepped closer to me, and I backed into the wall, a small gasp leaving my lips. His hand rested on the wall beside my head, and he leaned in, his eyes slowly turning a deep crimson. I gulped, a shiver running down my spine as his gaze held mine captive.

"Maybe," he whispered, his hungry eyes flickering down to my lips, and then to my body.

"May--maybe what?" I muttered, finding it hard to breathe as my heart pounded in my chest.

"Maybe..." he trailed off again, leaning in until his warm breath traced over my lips, and his closeness littered my skin with goosebumps. "Maybe I just don't want to."

- - -

Every night, the same, attractive man appears in Imara's dreams, who first makes her ache for his body, and then tries to drain her of her blood. She has spent her life wondering who he is, and the dismissive replies of her parents haven't helped either. She feels an odd connection to him, but how could he be her mate? He is a creature of night, a vampire, a revenant. A werewolf cannot be mated to a revenant, that goes against the laws of nature. So why does she feel so drawn to him, and why, at times, does she feel different from her pack members?

She is about to find out, because when her pack is attacked, her mother is pushing her towards this man, begging him to take her away. She does not understand why, but she is about to, as this man may be the answer to every problem she has ever faced. She wants to hate him, she wants to feel repulsed from him and his kind, but when her own body refuses to listen to her, how long can this hatred last? After all, fate works in odd ways, and so does lust.

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"Why do I have to get married to you for that? Can't you just tell them that I'm your--" I stopped myself before the word could leave my mouth. His eyes twinkled with amusement, and he raised his eyebrows in question. "You're my?" I gulped, before clearing my throat. "I'm not even eighteen yet. How can I get married?" "Youll be turning eighteen pretty soon. And you think your age matters to them, my Love? There is no concept of age in revenants. We stop aging when we turn. No one even knows how old they are, and honestly, even I'm not certain that I'm really twenty." I pursed my lips, an uneasiness spreading in my chest. "You're their King, Draco. Pull some strings." "I may be their King, but there are rules even I cannot break. Why can't you just trust me? I won't touch you until you're eighteen, I promise. I cannot ask them to fight for a werewolf pack, Imara. Not until you're my wife, not until you're their Queen." I clenched my jaw, my eyes narrowing. "You cannot? Or you just don't want to?" A chuckle escaped his lips, his pointed canines almost shining under the light. He looked to the side, before meeting my gaze again. Draco stepped closer to me, and I backed into the wall, a small gasp leaving my lips. His hand rested on the wall beside my head, and he leaned in, his eyes slowly turning a deep crimson. I gulped, a shiver running down my spine as his gaze held mine captive. "Maybe," he whispered, his hungry eyes flickering down to my lips, and then to my body. "May--maybe what?" I muttered, finding it hard to breathe as my heart pounded in my chest. "Maybe..." he trailed off again, leaning in until his warm breath traced over my lips, and his closeness littered my skin with goosebumps. "Maybe I just don't want to." I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes shut as sparks erupted through my skin. He was not yet touching me, but the proximity of his body to mine was enough to stir me up. His index finger traced over my cheek, and I shivered against his touch, opening my eyes. He was closer than I remembered, and my heart raged wilder, my teeth digging into my lower lip. His thumb travelled to my mouth, and he gently pulled my lip out, before slowly withdrawing his hand. "We are getting married, Imara," he whispered, leaning in to my ear. "You will be my wife, because there is no other way to protect you. It has to happen, sooner or later, so you decide when. I will make you very happy I promise. Emotionally, and physically. Your body yearns for me just as mine longs for you, and every, wildest fantasy of yours, I will make true. All you have to do, is trust me, and give in to your instincts. I won't do anything until you beg me to." "I... I can't trust you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I don't know how to." "Then trust yourself Imara," he replied, gently cupping my cheek. "Your heart will tell you what it wants, my Little Dove." He gently pressed a kiss to my forehead, before walking off, leaving me shaking with electricity running through my body. - - - - - -

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