Dark Song

by Feehan, Christine

  I want you to feel pride in yourself because you deserve to feel it, not because I feel it, Elisabeta. You are important on your own.

  She wanted to be the woman he seemed to need as his lifemate, but deep down she knew it was impossible and she was always going to disappoint him. If he compared her to Julija, she would always come up short. The comparison would be laughable. She tried not to let herself feel as if there was no hope. She would learn the things she could. Rising on her own, cleaning her body and dressing herself couldn’t be that difficult—and yet it was.

  She could float easily enough out of the ground. She made herself lighter than air. That wasn’t difficult. It took several tries to clean herself to her satisfaction, and she was very self-conscious, aware Ferro was merged with her and could see everything she did. She felt like a child attempting to do the same task over and over. At some point, when she was a toddler, her parents must have shown her how to do these things, but she had no memory of the lessons. Sergey had managed to destroy her memories of her earlier life with her family. The flashes of recollection were always accompanied by pain.

  Ferro didn’t show impatience. In this instance, she almost wished he would. Her hair was thick and far too long. It fell nearly to her knees and weighed heavily on her head. It felt a tangled mess and she wanted to cut it and wear it short so she didn’t have to learn to manage it.

  You will not.

  That was a decree. Hard. Fast. A gut reaction that almost made her smile in spite of her frustration with the mass. Ferro definitely preferred long hair. At least she’d gotten that admission out of him. Not only had she gotten that out of him, but her hair was suddenly shorter, more to her bottom than to her knees, and now clean, untangled and neatly braided.

  Thank you. It was a relief not to have to figure out how to do that task.

  Now there was the matter of the dress. That long dress he’d shown her. It was a more modern style than she had ever conceived of wearing. She’d made the choice to wear the black-and-gray one the rising before because, although it did cling to her figure, it wasn’t quite as thin as this one was. She had the vision stored in her mind. She had set every detail of the dress in her mind so that she would be able to duplicate it when he asked it of her. Now, she was so afraid. How could she wear it?

  May I ask you anything?

  I have said so. There was no impatience in his tone, but his words implied that she should have remembered.

  Will others see me in this garment?

  Yes. Andor is bringing Lorraine to meet you. And Traian, your brother, is very impatient to see you.

  She couldn’t help pulling back in horror, trying to distance herself from him. He refused to let go of their merging. She clenched her fists. This wasn’t going well at all and she’d promised herself she would do so much better this rising. Lorraine. The woman he felt affection for. How could she face her in such an indecent garment? And Traian? A brother she didn’t remember who would have expectations she couldn’t meet. She would hurt him without meaning to. It seemed she was doomed to fail everyone, especially her lifemate.

  This wasn’t going to work. As much as she wanted it to, as much as she thought Ferro was the most heroic man in the universe, she couldn’t do this, not even for him.

  “You are panicking for no reason, piŋe sarnanak,” Ferro said, his arms sliding around her waist from behind. “When you have need of me, you are to call out. Reach out. Hear our song. You have choices, Elisabeta, and one day you will remember that you have them. In the meantime, I will make your choice for you. Your choice is always me. I am your shield.”

  He bent his head, his hair sliding against her bare skin, sending a shiver of awareness down her spine. His lips trailed over the side of her neck from her earlobe to the pulse pounding so temptingly there.

  “You have not seen modern women and the way they dress. The dress I have chosen for you is extremely modest by comparison. You will look beautiful in it. I would not provide garments for other men to stare at your body. When we are alone, I can show you the types of clothing you can wear only for me.”

  His teeth scraped over her pulse, and between her legs her sex clenched unexpectedly. Hotly. Her stomach did a slow roll.

  “You must have more trust and faith in your lifemate, Elisabeta. I am ancient and I do not care for other males to be around my woman, especially those I do not know. I am more dominant than many of the other ancients. I was born that way and the centuries only amplified that trait in me. I worry that you will find me . . . difficult to live with.”

  His teeth sank deep and she couldn’t stop the little cry of pleasure that escaped. His hands came up to cup the weight of her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. She felt as if flames flickered and danced over her.

  You will wear the dress with confidence because I will find you beautiful in it. If you do not wish to meet Lorraine, you do not have to do so. I wanted you to have friends, but it is not necessary. Only if that is your desire.

  His fingers and thumbs began tugging on her nipples, gently at first and then a little rougher, so that streaks of fire seemed to go straight to her center, which had turned to liquid heat. How could she think straight? There was no thinking when his mouth and hands were wreaking such havoc with her body. It felt to her as if every nerve ending in her body had come to life and was on alert, just waiting for him, desperate for his attention. She found herself wholly focused on him. Acutely aware of him as a male. A man. Her man.

  She couldn’t see him, but knew he was dressed and she wasn’t. It seemed—decadent. There were images in his mind that came and went so fast she could barely keep up, but they were all erotic and seemed indecent, and yet she wanted them to slow down so she could see them more clearly. She knew each image had to do with Ferro and her. That sent a secret little thrill down her spine.

  His tongue slid across the vein in her neck and he turned her around, opening his shirt, tipping her chin up as he did so. His lips brushed hers, the briefest of touches, but again, a spontaneous frisson rushed down her spine and spread through her body. Her nipples pushed against his bare chest as he locked her close to him, his tongue teasing at the seam of her lips.

  “Open your mouth for me.”

  She knew if she did, she would lose herself in him, but she couldn’t resist him. It wasn’t just his demand, made in that soft, commanding voice. It was Ferro. He mesmerized her. She parted her lips and his tongue swept into her mouth, bringing fire. Bringing chaos. Bringing a passion she hadn’t known existed in her. The emotion swept over her so fast and so deep, welling up like a volcano, colliding with his overwhelming feelings so that it seemed as if they would both go up in flames.

  He kissed her long and deep, until a firestorm roared in her belly and the junction between her legs burned and turned to liquid. Her sex clenched emptily. Her breasts felt swollen and achy. Her entire body was suddenly restless and needy. Tension coiled deep and a different kind of urgent hunger awoke in her.

  Ferro lifted his head, his hands tracing the curve of her cheekbones. “Feed, sívamet. You are pale and I hunted this morning to take care of our needs.”

  She suddenly had other needs she knew little about but wanted him to take care of as well. She managed to lift her gaze to his, hoping he would see. He brushed a kiss over each eyelid.

  “One lesson at a time, Elisabeta. You have to be very sure I am what you want. An ancient dominant ruling your life may sound good to you now, but in a few years, when you get your confidence back and know your own power, I will be a weight you would have to bear around your neck.”

  He pressed her face to his chest, not giving her time to answer him. She wanted to protest. She knew herself better than he did. She knew how the centuries had shaped her, but right then the sound of his heart was like the drumming of the rain on the earth’s soil. Like the sound of it in their song when he woke her. Temptation, and so close. She already had the taste of him in her mouth.

  She was
a little obsessed with taking his blood just from the times he’d fed her. Now that addiction had grown worse. His taste was not just about his blood, but was wrapped up in him as well. His sheer personality. His sensuality. The way he made her feel about herself as a woman. As lifemates, the way his blood tasted was already an aphrodisiac to her, but she found it was so much more.

  She stroked her tongue over his pulse and then bit down, sinking her teeth deep, her body clenching wildly as his unique flavor burst into her mouth and down her throat. She found it strange that the act of feeding was no longer just that, but more sexual in nature. She didn’t even know that much about sex, only what Ferro was slowly showing her with the images in his mind, but her body was already reacting to him and had been all along. It was as if her body had been asleep all those centuries and he had come along and woken it up. She moved restlessly against him even as she took his blood, her arms stealing around his waist.

  He let her drink more than he should have, she was certain, but when he stopped her, she still felt deprived, although she obeyed him instantly. He bent his head to brush her mouth with his as if in reward for her obedience. He ran the pads of his fingers from her shoulders over the curves of her breasts to her nipples, raising goose bumps on her bare skin and setting her heart pounding all over again.

  “Clothe yourself in the gown, Elisabeta.”

  She blinked up at him. He was still going to make her put the dress on herself. It was so awkward. One moment she felt like a sexy woman, the next like a helpless child unable to do what any Carpathian could do. She moistened her lips and visualized every detail of the garment he meant her to wear and then pictured it on her body. She had thought to make it a little larger on her, but didn’t want to disappoint him and she knew it would, so she made it exactly as he had shown her.

  To her absolute astonishment, the dark forest-green gown clung to her body, falling to her ankles in soft folds of material. The fabric felt amazing on her skin. Too nice. When she moved, it slid over her, rubbing sensuously, inflaming her already aroused body. She wasn’t certain that was a good idea. She wasn’t wearing any undergarments. She hadn’t thought to add them. She had never worn them and didn’t know what women wore, but Julija had once told her that women did wear them.

  Proving he was still merged with her, Ferro shook his head and leaned close to catch her earlobe between his teeth. “You do not need to wear anything else to make you uncomfortable. You are properly covered, Elisabeta. When you are ready for different clothes, we can experiment to your heart’s content, or you can do so with your female friends. Right now, we do only a few things at a time so you are not overwhelmed.”

  “I like the material,” she admitted. She couldn’t keep the shyness from her voice. Running her hands up and down her thighs so she could feel the softness of the exquisite fabric, she suddenly panicked. “What about tomorrow? What am I going to wear next rising?”

  “We will look at Lorraine’s catalogue together and choose two dresses.”

  She felt her throat start to close in her anxiety. He would expect her to make choices. There would be too many. She brought her hand up in an effort to rub away the coughing fit as it began. He caught her wrist and very gently brought her hand to his mouth.

  “I will allow you to look with me and I will choose two of my favorites. Hopefully, you will approve of them. We will continue to do that until you feel capable of aiding me in choosing a gown as well.”

  She nearly slumped against him in relief.

  “We will go into the house and you are to look around the room we were in last rising. I want you to try your best to take in a little more than you did. If it is overwhelming, simply close your eyes and see only me in your mind. We will start with a small area and work our way around that room. It will be our entertaining room.”

  She was determined not to detest that room. Eventually, it would represent something good to her, she was certain of it. Right now, it was just too big. She nodded.

  “This is a good time for you to practice moving on your own from one area to the next. You floated from beneath the ground, so you know you can do that. I want you to practice walking once we’re inside the room. You have to be able to move both as a Carpathian and as a human with equal ease. No one will be in the house but the two of us, so if you have a misstep, no one will see.”

  She swallowed hard. “You will see.”

  His smile was slow in coming. It stole over his face, heating the iron in his eyes to a bluish-silver warmth that took the air right out of her lungs, leaving her unable to catch her breath. The way he looked down at her made her feel as if she were the most important person in his world—and for that moment, she believed she was. His hands cupped her face with such exquisite gentleness that her heart turned over. The pad of his thumb slid back and forth over her chin, mesmerizing her as his eyes looked down into hers.

  “I will always see you, minan piŋe sarnanak, and everything you do. The way you try the things I ask of you pleases me. There will come a day, maybe soon, maybe a century from now, when I will have to hunt the vampire and you will be left to watch over our children, and I will go with confidence because of the tenacity and bravery you show me right here. You are terrified each rising, and yet with determination, you tackle every task put before you. I could not ask more from our greatest warriors. You humble me.”

  She heard the sincerity in his voice, saw it in his mind, and it gave her the determination to learn the things needed to exist in the new world she was in. She wanted to do that for him, but also, because he was right; she would have to be alone with their children at some time and she needed to know she could do whatever was necessary. It didn’t seem possible, but Ferro was an ancient hunter and he seemed to have every confidence in her.

  She nodded. “It is easier to walk without shoes,” she said, to try to cover the emotion welling up like a terrible raw burning sensation in her throat and eyes.

  He bent his head and brushed her lips with his. It was a brief, barely there contact, but heart-stopping all the same. She felt the butterfly wings fluttering in the pit of her stomach and pressed her hand hard over the sensation.

  “Nevertheless, since it is an accepted practice to wear shoes outside, it would be better to practice in the privacy of our home with them on.”

  He lifted her into his arms, cradling her close to his chest. He felt enormously strong and, although she was tall like most Carpathian women, he made her feel delicate and small. He was a very big man. She knew Sergey had purposely kept her starved to prevent her from possibly growing too powerful, which was silly when she’d never had the chance to learn anything. Now, it seemed, her lifemate was just the opposite. He was willing for her to learn everything. He wanted her to have confidence and feel her own power. She was both exhilarated and terrified by that because she knew Ferro had expectations of her and she wasn’t as certain as he was that she could meet them.

  Ferro set her down inside the front room of what would eventually be the home base they would live in when they stayed in the United States; at least, she could see that was in his mind at the moment. She kept her eyes closed tightly, afraid of getting too dizzy. She needed to put the images from the rising before solidly in her mind as a reference.

  “You are in front of the chair where I sat with you,” he said, his hand sliding from her waist to her hip.

  The gesture felt . . . intimate. He was never heavy-handed. His palm barely skimmed her body, so light over the thin material of the formfitting gown, but she felt that touch all the way to her bones. She felt branded. His.

  “I am not facing the window, am I?” She felt very daring to ask him. In a million years she would never have asked such a question. Elisabeta still wasn’t certain whether she was testing her freedom or his reaction.

  “No, sívamet, I would not make such a mistake with the one who is hän ku vigyáz sívamet és sielamet. I cherish you, Elisabeta, and protect you.”

  She liked t
hat Ferro called her the keeper of his heart and soul. She had kept his soul safe for so long, struggling against Sergey’s continual assaults, his trickery and tortures over the centuries, that she felt she truly had been and still was the keeper of his soul. She wanted to be the keeper of his heart as well. That was much more difficult to believe. His soul had been entrusted to her by fate. By destiny. But his heart . . . if she held it, that was given to her by him and all the more treasured for the freely given gift.

  His hands slid back up to her waist. She felt him grip her there. Steady her. He was there in her mind, adding to her courage. She could do this for him. He had that ink on his back, the one that said he had kept his honor for her. She could become brave for him. Maybe, eventually, it would be for herself, but for now, if she could do it for him it would be enough.

  Elisabeta took a deep breath and forced her eyes open. She expected to feel sick and disoriented but she should have trusted in her lifemate. He had her facing a corner wall. A sconce was lit, the light flickering dimly, casting shadows over an area larger than she’d really taken in the night before. It seemed, at first, a sweeping space, but she made it a grid in her mind, viewing it as if she were seeing the wider corner through bars.

  “Very clever.”

  His breath was warm on her ear. He transferred his hands to her shoulders and began that slow, soothing massage she was coming to really enjoy. He had big hands with strong fingers and he got every tense knot. With just the two of them in the house, it seemed so much easier to let herself have a panic attack if that was what had to happen in order to see the room.

  “Think of this as your home, piŋe sarnanak. It is only this one room. This space. This is what we have together. A fireplace to keep us warm if the weather turns cold on us and we do not want to go to the trouble of regulating our body temperatures.”