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refusal to turn her gaze downward, something vampires expected of their servants. But she bore no mark of Daegan Rei’s. She was not his servant. As a result, she had no real idea what she was to him, the strange path of their relationship, while she was all too aware of what he was to her.
    He’d described the effect of the different marks. It took more than a vampire bite. The vampire had to release each of the three separate, special serums from his fangs. One mark was merely a geographical locater, allowing the vampire to find the human he had marked. The second mark allowed the vampire access to the human’s thoughts. They knew everything the human was thinking, and they could speak in the human’s mind. Daegan had said the third mark deepened that mind-to-mind link, took it down to the heart and soul. Practically, a second-or third-marked servant could lend strength to the vampire if he was injured, but if the vampire was killed, a third-marked human would die within moments. If that human was killed, depending on how long they’d been together, it could be a powerful emotional blow to the vampire, but he would survive it.
    He’d told her that words were not sufficient to describe the third mark, to understand why it differed so much from the second, but she could read between the lines. It was a complete surrender, a giving to the vampire of all that particular human was. But in the vampire world, humans were viewed as an inferior species, the property of their Master or Mistress, slaves in truth. A human servant gave her vampire everything, while in turn accepting whatever part of himself he chose to give to her.
    “I don’t want you playing with him while I’m gone, and yet you know I must leave tonight. If I forbid you . . .”
    “I would disobey.”
    “Perhaps my discipline wouldn’t be to your liking.”
    “There’s no discipline you have that isn’t to my liking.” She made sure her eyes warmed as she looked up at him. “You know that.”
    Even without the marks, that edge was between them, whenever they came together. Vampires were powerful predators, so domination was an instinct, even when dealing with their own kind. Her instincts as a Domme were natural, and had been honed by experience, but he had centuries of blood behind his. In the still, sacred privacy of her own mind, she’d realized a long time ago that if she was a cat, then he was a lion, and though he might be more powerful, their aggressive tendencies were similar. She wouldn’t fully surrender herself without complete trust.
    He’d always been brutally honest with her, and that meant she trusted him more than she’d ever trusted anyone. Yet he’d made it clear that with the third mark, he would have a limitless ability to scour to the bottom of her mind, know her fears and sorrows, her insecurities and most elemental needs, things she had difficulty facing in herself.
    At one time, early on in their five-year relationship, he’d pursued his desire to make her his servant with a single-mindedness that had resulted in volatile, agonizing arguments. He could be terrifying when he was determined, and he’d come so close to winning so many times, knowing just how to undermine her female defenses. He knew so much about who and what she was already.
    She’d withstood the assault until the storm passed, but he’d left, disappearing from her life for six months. It was then she’d recognized how much he’d become a part of her. Even moving and breathing were difficult, pretending she was still Anwyn when he’d apparently torn her soul out of his body and taken it with him. In her despairing moments, she’d told herself if he ever came back, she’d give him what he wanted. She would walk into the cage he offered, and somehow learn to trust him enough that she no longer saw the bars.
    But when at last he returned, he’d told her he would not ask her again, nor would he permit her to agree to it. Perversely, she’d felt a