Hands circled her arms and began to rub up and down them. You are shivering. There is no need to be so afraid, piŋe sarnanak. You have only to look to me and I will help you when you feel you cannot find your way.
She wanted to cry, but she had long ago run out of tears. I lost my way a long time ago. I have no knowledge of any way. I cannot talk without permission. I do not dress myself or know how. I cannot do my hair or find my own food. I cannot be out in the open. I am lost, a burden to a man who does not want the responsibility of a prisoner.
Sas, piŋe sarnanak. I am an ancient, not a modern warrior. I am your lifemate. My soul calls to yours. When you have a question, you are to ask me immediately. That is an order. Do you understand?
Without permission?
You always have permission to talk to me or to your female friends. If the vampire tries to reach you, and for some reason I do not feel him, you must come to me immediately no matter what he threatens. That is an absolute rule. Do you understand?
She swallowed hard. The rules were certainly different, but she felt better that there were rules. She understood structure. Yes. I will obey.
Once she gave her word, she would never go back on it. She liked that he gave her permission to talk to Julija. She wouldn’t have to sneak, and she would have tried to. That would have been difficult. Once he tied them together, he would have been slipping in and out of her mind easily. She wouldn’t always know he was there.
Te avio päläfertiilam. You are my lifemate. Éntölam kuulua, avio päläfertiilam. I claim you as my lifemate.
Her breath caught in her throat. The ritual binding words. His arms were real. She felt him there, surrounding her, but she still didn’t have the courage to open her eyes and look at him, to see what her lifemate looked like. He felt big. All muscle. When her heart began to hammer, his immediately tuned to hers and once more slowed her rhythm.
Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed. I belong to you. Élidamet andam. I offer my life for you. Pesämet andam. I give you my protection.
His lips slid into her hair, nuzzled the side of her neck right over her pounding pulse. His tongue touched her skin. It felt … erotic. Her pulse jumped. He made her feel things she didn’t know were possible. His arms felt safe when she’d never been safe, not even in her own home.
Uskolfertiilamet andam. I give you my allegiance.
Was that even possible? It was a vow. More than a promise. A vow between two souls. His allegiance was to her. Her eyes burned. More than anything she wanted to be strong for herself. To stand on her own two feet and be a partner to her lifemate. Maybe not the kind of partner Julija was, but at least someone Ferro could be proud of. Not some shrinking ball of terror hiding under the ground.
Sívamet andam. I give you my heart. Sielamet andam. I give you my soul. Ainamet andam. I give you my body. Sívamet kuuluak kaik että a ted. I take into my keeping the same that is yours.
His heart was given to her. His soul. His body. And he took hers in return. Her mouth went dry. She could handle it if he took her heart and soul, but her body? Even the vampire hadn’t taken that. He couldn’t. That was all she had left of herself that belonged to her. Her pulse jumped under his touch and he soothed her with a soft brush of his lips. His hands continued to rub her arms gently.
Ainaak olenszal sívambin. Your life will be cherished by me for all time. Te élidet ainaak pide minan. Your life will be placed above mine for all time. Te avio päläfertiilam. You are my lifemate. Ainaak sívamet jutta oleny. You are bound to me for all eternity. Ainaak terád vigyázak. You are always in my care.
His lips wandered down the side of her neck, and then he was suddenly shifting his body out from under her, so she lay in a fine mattress of rich minerals with his heavy body blanketing hers. His lips kissed both closed eyelids.
“Are you ever going to look at me and see your lifemate, piŋe sarnanak?” There was the faintest trace of amusement in his voice.
She pressed her lips together. Only if you command me. I mean, yes. But … She couldn’t. Not yet. As long as she had her eyes closed, she could enjoy his touch. Pretend her world was going to be all right. If she opened them and the world was too big or she panicked, and everything frightened her, he would realize just what he had tied himself to for all eternity.
He didn’t command her to open her eyes. His lips continued a slow travel from her eyelids along her left cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her heart stuttered as he brushed across the curve of her lips and then down her chin and throat. He continued lower over the curve of her breasts. For a moment she thought to bring her hands up to cover herself, but it seemed a little silly. Her body belonged to him. She had scars. He had already seen them. He had already seen how thin she was.
His lips moved back and forth in a mesmerizing way, pushing out coherent thought. She didn’t know what he was doing. She was feeling, but she wasn’t quite certain what. She wanted to bring her arms up and touch him, to put her hands in his hair. She could feel it sweeping over her skin, a thick mass sliding over her, sending ripples of awareness and adding to the slow heat building in her veins caused by his mouth moving on her body. The scrape of his teeth sent a dark shiver down her spine. Unexpectedly, her sex clenched. In all her years of being alive, that had never once happened. It was shocking. Maybe even a little mortifying, mostly because she didn’t know what it meant.
His teeth sank deep and she bit back a gasp at the shocking wave of pain that instantly turned to erotic pleasure, spreading flickering flames through her body. She could have sworn flames licked at her skin and the insides of her belly, smoldered between her legs and threatened to build an inferno in her deepest core that could never be put out if he didn’t stop.
She couldn’t stop her arms from creeping around him, no matter how hard she tried. She cradled his head to her, needing him to feast on her, to sate himself on her blood. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the way it felt with him taking her blood. He could drain her dry and she would be happy. When Sergey had taken her blood, it had been painful; a terrible, torturous experience. With Ferro, it was a wonderful, sensual, shocking encounter. He held her in his arms as if she meant something to him. His mouth moved over her like she was priceless.
Again, her eyes burned, when she had no tears to shed. No one had ever treated her the way he did, not that she could remember. If she had to have a new master, no matter if he turned cruel later, she had this moment, this one moment, to hold on to and treasure. Did she believe that he would stay kind to her? No. Not really. She’d lived with terror for so long that she didn’t know how to live without it, but she was determined to hold on to every decent moment life gave her. This one was unexpected—a true gift.
His tongue swept across the pinpricks, closing them, and he shifted back and to one side, taking her with him, lifting her as if she weighed no more than a feather and settling her onto his lap. He swept her hair back and pressed her face to his chest.
“Drink, piŋe sarnanak. You need to take my blood in the way I took yours.”
Her eyelashes fluttered before she could stop them. Curiosity was one of her worst traits. It always had been. Sergey Malinov had known that about her. She had tried so hard to suppress that need to find out every little thing, and she still couldn’t help herself at times. Like now. Her lashes lifted and she found herself staring into her lifemate’s face for the first time.
She had known he was dangerous. Lethal even. His face could have been carved from stone, etched out of the hardest rock known to man. His jaw was set, stubborn, his eyes the color of iron ore, a light, almost silvery color, although she could see streaks of the lightest blue and just the faintest jagged lines of rust spread through the irises. His lashes were dark like his hair, although his hair had streaks of silver running through it. He had high cheekbones, an aristocratic nose and a dark shadow along his jaw where most Carpathian men were clean-shaven.
His gaze drifted possessively over her face. He didn’t smile at her, but
he bent his head and his lips moved over her eyes, pressing kisses over them.
“You’re very brave, Elisabeta.”
She wouldn’t call it bravery. The moment she opened her eyes and saw his face, saw all that male power, she knew she was in trouble. She’d had to fight her first inclination to hurl herself to the ground and try to burrow into the soil fast. She knew from experience there was no running away. She was always captured, and the repercussions were terrible. Still, the admiration in his voice, that respect, was totally unexpected and caught her off guard.
“Take my blood, piŋe sarnanak. You are very pale. I can feel your hunger beating at me.”
She was so used to being hungry she barely noticed it anymore if she hadn’t gone weeks without blood. He pressed the back of her head very gently, urging her face toward his bare chest. She transferred her gaze there. He had a thick chest, with heavy, defined muscles. He wore ancient ink, the kind etched into his skin. It was difficult to tattoo a Carpathian. Ink didn’t stay. Carpathians rarely scarred. Ferro had ink pressed into scarring on his chest, arms, shoulders and, she was certain, his back.
The back of her head fit into his palm easily and he pressed her close to his skin, to those heavy muscles. At once she caught his intriguing scent and drew it deep into her lungs. Something about the way he smelled got to her on a molecular level. She instantly wanted to taste his skin—no, needed to taste him. Without thinking, her tongue lapped at him. An exotic, perfect flavor burst on her tongue and slid down her throat, bringing a heat to her belly. She almost keened with delight. Nothing tasted like he did. Nothing.
Her teeth scraped back and forth over his pulse while she contemplated what his blood would taste like. Would it be that good? Would it live up to the promise of his scent? The mere flavor of his skin? He had fed her before, when she was beneath the ground and he slept above her, but he hadn’t claimed her, hadn’t joined them together. Was there a difference? She had been too terrified to notice then. She was terrified now, but … He groaned. It was just a soft sound, but it went straight to her sex. Like an arrow.
“Elisabeta, take my blood.” He growled the command at her. His voice was velvet soft, but still, it was a growl. An order.
She sank her teeth instantly. Deep. Without preamble. Shocking him. Shocking her. He threw his head back, his hand locking her head to his chest while the other pinned her hip to his, holding her still, forcing her to realize she was squirming on his lap, her bare cheeks sliding over his fully erect cock. She would have been mortified, but already his blood was in her mouth. Not just any blood—an aphrodisiaic, the finest thing she’d ever tasted in her life.
Ferro would never have enough blood to give to her. Never. She would forever crave his blood. Nothing would taste this good and she knew it. She tried not to be greedy. She’d been trained not to take what she needed. If she tried, Sergey beat her into submission. Twice, she tried to pull back, but Ferro murmured his displeasure and held her to his chest. She continued feeding, grateful he allowed it, grateful for the rich sustenance from a true ancient, but more importantly, the amazing gift a lifemate’s blood provided.
“That’s enough, Elisabeta,” Ferro said finally, gently stroking her hair. “In all the years of my existence, no one has ever tasted the way you do. I hope it was the same for you.”
She reluctantly slid her tongue across the pinpricks to close them and lifted her head away from temptation. She nodded. “It was.”
He continued to stroke her hair. “That is a good thing. I want you to come to me when you are hungry. If you can’t find me, reach out to me. Don’t wait until you feel starved. You will need extra feedings for a while.”
At once panic set in. “I won’t be with you? If I’m not with you, won’t I be in the ground? I can’t be on my own. I won’t know what to do.” Her heart rate had gone crazy and her lungs burned for air. She couldn’t do this. She really couldn’t. She couldn’t even look around her, let alone be on her own. Just because he held her and gave her blood and gave her permission to speak didn’t mean she could maneuver her way through a world she didn’t know or understand.
She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from blurting out another word. It was already far too late. He could read her mind anyway. She’d gone from appearing half-normal—or at least she hoped she looked that way—to looking insane. He was stuck with crazy. She did try to crawl off his lap back to the welcoming soil. It was impossible to move when Ferro didn’t want her going anywhere. He simply clamped his arms around her and held her to him.
“You are having another panic attack. Breathe. I am not going to leave you on your own until you are ready. Stay still, piŋe sarnanak. Just breathe while we go over a few more rules.”
She could do that. Rules made her feel safe. She liked rules. He stroked her hair in that soothing way he had, and she found herself following his breathing pattern. She liked that he called her “little songbird.” It sounded a little like an endearment. He wasn’t making fun of her, or taunting her. He seemed only gentle when he could crush her so easily.
“I know that you are very afraid of Malinov attacking this compound.”
She gasped at his audacity in naming the master vampire. She even put her fingers up to cover his lips before she could stop herself. It was a terrible transgression, and the moment she did it, she knew she should be punished. She dropped her hand into her lap and bowed her head.
“I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have touched you without permission. There is no excuse. Whatever you deem is a fit punishment …”
Ferro caught her hand and returned her fingertips to his lips. “I am your lifemate. You are allowed to touch me when you wish or have need. Sometimes those needs will be for comfort, other times they might be sexual. You might just want to feel close. Whatever the reason, there is no need to ask for permission. I intend to touch you at will.”
She was confused, frowning at him. “But I belong to you. You have the right to touch me when you desire to do so.”
He shook his head. “I belong to you as well, Elisabeta, but we are lifemates, not master and prisoner. Not master and slave owner. Not vampire and captive. Those days are over for you. He will not get you back. You have every right to say no. To me or to anyone else.”
Elisabeta was more confused than ever. Shocked even. She didn’t understand what he was telling her. It sounded so farfetched she was afraid he was trying to trick her. The inevitable panic began to well up and she pushed her fist into her mouth, biting down hard on her knuckles. She didn’t understand anything. The cool earth looked so good to her. She understood the richness, the wealth of the soil. The way it surrounded her body and eased the pain in her joints the tiny cage had caused when she couldn’t exercise properly or get enough blood to sustain her. This world she found herself in now was so foreign to her that she didn’t understand even one small part of it.
Ferro stroked more caresses in her hair, soothing her. “We are going to start with simple things. Do you remember how to clothe yourself or is this something the vampire insisted he do?”
That shamed her. “He did if he allowed clothing. He always made decisions.”
“Do you prefer to wear dresses or trousers?”
Her heart accelerated. Was it a trick question? What did he prefer? She’d never worn trousers in her life. Not once. She knew Julija wore them, but they looked as if they might be uncomfortable. Would Ferro want her to wear them?
“Do you want me to wear dresses or trousers?” she countered, trying not to sound as timid as she felt.
“This is about what you want. There is no right or wrong answer, piŋe sarnanak, only what you would really prefer.”
She couldn’t possibly choose. There was no way. She hadn’t made a choice in hundreds of years. Not one single choice. She shook her head, refusing to look at him, refusing to answer.
Elisabeta expected him to be angry, frustrated, to lose patience with her, but his hand continued the gentle strokes in
her hair. She realized her long, thick hair—hair that had never been cut—was clean, and as he burrowed his strong fingers into it to massage her scalp, the strands slid through his fingers free of tangles.
“I prefer dresses, but I am an ancient warrior, Elisabeta, not at all modern. I have not had time to catch up to this world. I do not want to color your choices with my own. Still, if you prefer me to choose for you at this time, I will show you two different dresses that I really like, and you can decide which one to wear this evening and which you will wear next rising. Is that acceptable to you?”
She would still have to make a choice, but he liked both dresses and, in the end, she would wear both of them. Her only choice was which to wear tonight and which one the following rising. The thought of making that decision was still difficult, but exciting. It was a decision. Her decision. Ferro was letting her choose.
“Yes, I like the idea very much,” she agreed.
“But it is still a little scary to you,” he said.
Of course, he would know. There was no hiding her pounding pulse from him. She bit her lip and nodded slowly, daring to lift her lashes and sneak a peek at his face to see if he was exasperated with her. She wouldn’t blame him if he was. He looked so invincible, as if nothing in the world had ever frightened him. Nothing. How could he sit there so calmly in the middle of the healing grounds, taking his time as if he had nowhere else in the world to be but right there with her, sorting out the terrifying new world she found herself in?
“When you get very frightened, piŋe sarnanak, always remember that you have only to look into your mind and I am there with you. You can hear our song. It soothes you every rising. The sound of the rain calling to you to awaken. When you hear that, it is our combined heartbeat. No matter even if I am holding you, if you wish to soothe yourself first, our song is there in your mind. I will admit, I prefer to be the one to care for you, but I want you to know that you are capable of standing on your own two feet always. The vampire took that from you, but I intend to give it back to you. You are not without your own power, Elisabeta. You will learn, with time, to believe in yourself. To know you’re strong. I want that for you.”
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