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Dark Song

Page 34

by Feehan, Christine


  “Does he know how to access their aid without you?” Ferro asked, keeping the inquiry gentle. It was always a sore subject whenever he brought up just how much Elisabeta had helped Sergey against his brothers over the years. She didn’t really understand that her own nature had betrayed her. It was impossible for her to watch the victim of cruelty suffer, no matter if that person was good or bad themselves. She was compelled by her nature to help them.

  “I have never seen him do so. He has a disconnect in his mind with certain things, especially anything to do with magic or psychic abilities beyond Carpathian skills. His safeguards were always the weakest of the brothers’. They were always extremely cruel to him over his safeguards.”

  “And you aided him?”

  Elisabeta nodded. “I had to be careful when I was teaching him to weave more strands because he would get so angry when he couldn’t do it. I felt bad that I made him feel less intelligent. I didn’t mean to. I spent time studying how he learned things. Once I knew, it was so much easier to teach him things.”

  The entire time they walked along the narrow winding path in the deeper forest that moved around and between trees, he could see she was scanning both sides of the path and noting every tree and bush along the way. She didn’t seem to miss anything even though the conversation they were having was obviously important.

  “You taught him every one of his safeguards? He has never made up any of his own?”

  “No. He is incapable of straying from utterly basic safeguards or the more intricate ones I taught him. He normally used those to keep his brothers and cousins away from his sleeping chambers. He was always paranoid, with good reason, that they might want him dead.”

  “Did they want him dead?”

  “Yes, they thought him the weakest link.”

  “And without you, he was.”

  She nodded. “I made certain that he became an asset to them, without making them feel as if he was in any way a threat to them. It was a difficult balance and I made mistakes. His ego, especially when they made fun of him, could make him especially cruel. He had to believe he was the one outsmarting them. It is strange that over the centuries I lost sight of that. I began to believe he was the one who was so powerful on his own.”

  “Sergey had to know it was you.”

  “He knew, but that made him angrier and more resentful. I suppose that was why he set out to convince me I was worthless to him.”

  Ferro realized just what a terrible balancing act Elisabeta always had to have with Sergey. He would want to feel as powerful as his brothers. He had been a mean, cruel boy, killing animals in the forest and then, later, human children, preying on those weaker than himself in order to bolster his belief that he was every bit as formidable as his brothers. He was just cunning enough to hide his sickness from those adults around him in order to keep them from destroying him.

  His father was off hunting vampires, preoccupied with his life. In those days, parents often paid little attention to the children as they reached the older ages. Other Carpathians took over training. A boy like Sergey could easily slip through the cracks. He would become a loner, going into the forest to carry out his ugliness while his much more intelligent brothers held the spotlight.

  “He was close to his sister, Ivory. She protected him from much of the teasing from his older brothers. I think she softened it so it sounded less cruel and more affectionate. They were often together. When she disappeared, he was devastated. Even that was seen by his brothers as weakness. They wanted him to hate the prince, to turn on him as they had. To blame Vlad for her disappearance. Sergey blamed himself for not looking after her. The crueler his brothers were to him, the more that sickness in his mind came out and he started that ugly behavior, going into the forest and hurting animals and then children.”

  There was compassion in her mind for the lost soul of Sergey Malinov and for all those he tortured and destroyed over the long centuries he lived. She was incapable of feeling loathing for him or any other. There was no such thing as hatred in her makeup. She sought to prevent Sergey from feeling the need to hurt others. On some level she simply couldn’t understand that driving compulsion in him and others like him to watch others suffer.

  “You are certain Sergey will only use safeguards you have taught him to weave, then?” Ferro reiterated.

  “I am very certain,” Elisabeta said.

  “I think we have gone far enough,” Ferro decided. “Have you memorized the entire pathway?”

  Elisabeta looked around her and nodded. “I believe so.”

  He framed her face and kissed her again, just because there was no resisting her, especially not there in their forest. “Of course you have. We need to put in a little time with shifting fast, piŋe sarnanak. I know you have no objections to that.” She particularly loved shifting and flying and she’d become very adept at it.

  “Right here?” There was a touch of eagerness in her voice.

  They were in deep forest and he had always had her shift near the edge of the meadow. It was much more dangerous with trees close together and branches overlapping. They had practiced flying through the forest, but they’d stayed within the trees on the outskirts just ringing the meadow.

  “Yes. I believe you are more than ready for shifting and flying through the interior of the woods. We will start out slow, Elisabeta.” He couldn’t help pouring caution and command into his voice. It was always dangerous in the smaller confines of the trees. One mistake and it would be easy to suffer an injury—or worse. He knew Elisabeta had the skills. She was too detail-oriented not to. She hadn’t missed a single thing he’d shown or told her since he’d started with any of their lessons, and she loved flying.

  “I want you to be able to move very fast through these woods, whether it be on foot, as an owl or in any other way you have to do it,” he added. “We’ve gone through them. This is our home. Our haven. It is where both of us feel safest.”

  Dark suspicion crept into her mind and then her eyes but she refrained from voicing a single question, nor did she go into his head as she could have to read what his intentions were. Elisabeta’s brain was sharp and moved fast, figuring out what he planned. He didn’t want her to be afraid, not for herself or for him or anyone else. To distract her, he pointed to the upper branches of the shortest tree.

  “We are both going to start at the bend in the path, running and shifting as we go. You will have to rid yourself of clothes, hold the image of the owl in your head, every detail, and lift yourself into the air all at the same time.”

  They had practiced running and shifting in the meadow over and over, so he knew she could easily shed her clothes and become the owl. They’d also practiced the owl rising into the air and moving through the trees at the edge of the woods. Those trees were farther apart, but some branches were still interlocking. She had been extremely successful at that as well. Now, he wanted all the pieces put together because this might be life or death.

  Ferro would stay merged with her so there would be no mistakes. He kept his hand firmly wrapped in hers as they walked to the bend in the very narrow pathway. The trail was no more than a deer path cut through the brush and trees, not really allowing for both of them to walk side by side. He had led the way so when he stopped and turned, she was ahead of him. He allowed her hand to slip from his.

  Go, Elisabeta. Run. Shift. Fly. He pushed the commands into her mind.

  She didn’t hesitate, taking off instantly. He was right behind her, stride for stride, his footsteps in hers, his breath on her neck. She was astonishingly fast. They had practiced repeatedly and he had noticed that she had improved every time, but she also went over and over the procedure in her mind until she was faster and better at it every time.

  Her clothes were gone and she was already the small Western Screech Owl in the air, maneuvering through the low branches of the trees toward the one he had indicated he wanted her to come to rest on. She actually flew faster than he would have liked for
their first time, but he didn’t distract her by admonishing her to slow down. She landed on the exact branch he had designated, digging her talons into the limb, her wings out to steady herself, and then folding them neatly into her sides. Ferro landed beside her.

  That was amazing, Elisabeta. I am very proud of you. Terrified, but proud. She might need that speed. We will fly back to the bend at a much more leisurely pace and do it again.

  He didn’t want to tire her out. She would need every ounce of strength when they went up against the army the Carpathians were certain they would be facing. This night was for them—perhaps the only one they would have. One never knew what the future would hold and he wanted time for them. It seemed they got very little for themselves.

  He had her make the run two more times before he called a halt to her continuing lessons. She really didn’t need them. They were more for his peace of mind.

  We do not have a lot of time to be alone together, Elisabeta, and I wish to spend what we have enjoying every moment with you. I share you with so many out of necessity, but I do prefer to have you to myself. This night is for us.

  I prefer that as well, she admitted.

  There was a sensual quality in her voice he’d never heard before, one that played over his skin in spite of being deep within the owl’s body. He was merged with her, mind to mind, and it was impossible not to feel the way she responded to him both physically and emotionally. He wanted her with every breath he drew, and it felt as if Elisabeta wanted him the same way.

  They flew back to their favorite spot in the forest, just on the outer edge of the meadow but in the shadow of the trees. As they both shifted to their human forms, he waved his hand to provide them with the thickest of fur rugs. Nudity didn’t bother him and he preferred to look at her feminine form. If she was at all uncomfortable, he would provide her with clothing. Both could regulate their temperature without a problem, and if the weather proved unpredictable—and already a small storm had moved in—he could provide a transparent roof overhead.

  The clouds swirled overhead, moving to cover the small slice of moon and blot out the stars. They would need that gathering storm and the more natural, the better. The Carpathians coming in to aid them from all directions were already doing so, hopefully unseen by any of Sergey’s spies. The breaking weather would definitely be helpful. A series of storms had been predicted over the next few risings, a good break for them. The Carpathians traveling their way would have adequate cover and hopefully, during the battle, they could utilize the storms as well.

  Fingers of mist drifted across the meadow and through the trees. Ferro immediately provided a transparent roof so they could see the slow rolling clouds overhead and the first of the silvery drops as they began to fall from the sky. He laid back, stretching out, drawing Elisabeta with him, so both could look upward at the display. Her head rested on his shoulder, her body tucked in tight against his side. He was aware of her every curve. The softness of her form against the hardness of his.

  “I never noticed how beautiful rain could be until this moment,” he admitted. “Instead of individual beads falling, each looks like a thin silver streak dropping out of the darkness. Each rising I find something new and amazing you have gifted me with.”

  She turned her head to look up at him. “Ferro. You are the true gift. I have spent each rising for hundreds of years living in terror. Now, each is a joy, whether or not there is fear, because there is you.”

  Elisabeta turned completely, her body sliding over his boldly so that she was blanketing him. Her hands framed his face. “Hän sívamak, you have my heart. Always, you have my heart.” She brushed kisses across his eyes and then down his face to the corner of his mouth.

  Ferro’s body reacted with a hot rush of blood pounding through his veins, thundering in his ears, to center in his groin. She moved her hips subtly, rubbing against him, inflaming him further. She began to move down his body, kissing his chin and then his throat.

  Ferro closed his eyes, his hands moving in her hair, stroking and massaging. He needed to be satisfied with what they had together already. She had come so far so fast. Asking any more of her was selfish, and she took him to heaven with that perfect mouth of hers every single rising.

  Elisabeta lifted her head. “Ferro? What more? I catch needs in you that are fleeting, but those needs are very strong. I am your lifemate. I provide for you.”

  He suppressed a groan. “You are providing for me. The things you do to me are beautiful, Elisabeta. What we do to one another is an expression of love.”

  She studied his face for a long moment. “One expression of love. I see that in your mind. I also see other things as well. Intriguing things. I want to do those things with you, Ferro, not just one. All of them.”

  His fist bunched in her hair. She could drive him right to the very edge of his control, and he had always thought himself extremely disciplined. He wanted everything he gave her, everything they did together, to be perfect for her. To be beautiful for her. “When you are ready, sívamet, we will do them.”

  She pressed a kiss to his chest and then looked up again, her dark gaze colliding with his. “How do we know if I am ready if we do not ever try?”

  Ferro’s heart stuttered. She was killing him. How was he going to protect her if she was going to lie on top of him, give him those innocent, seductress eyes and move her silken body over his already inflamed nerve endings, threatening to drive him past all sanity?

  “Ferro?” She pressed kisses to his throat and chin. “I am asking you to show me. To teach me. I want everything with you. Everything there is.”

  He stared up at her beloved face, love for her nearly overwhelming him. “Minan piŋe sarnanak, no woman will ever be as loved or as treasured as you.”

  Very gently he rolled her over so that she was beneath him. He sat up slowly as he laid her out before him there on the softest of thick furs, not wanting anything to mar her pleasure, not a single twig, pebble, or even the swell of the ground. The feel of the fur as it rubbed against her sensitized skin would heighten her pleasure, not detract from it. He took his time looking down at her body, that perfect feminine form that was so outrageously different from his and yet fit so perfectly with his.

  Elisabeta’s gaze clung to his, trust in her dark eyes. Love for her welled up, a tidal wave of emotion, shaking him as nothing in his long life ever had. He had never considered that he could ever feel such strong emotions, but the strength and depth of his love for her was almost beyond his comprehension. There were no real words to express that to her, so he simply opened his mind more fully to her to allow her to see what she meant to him.

  He had been so careful to protect her from the emptiness of his past, from the disturbing battles and kills. She was too sensitive an empath, and there was no need for her to have to share his violent past, but she needed to see what she truly meant to him. She deserved that much. If she caught glimpses of other things, he hoped that didn’t diminish what he wanted to give her in this moment.

  Tet vigyázam. He whispered the truth into her mind. Saying he loved her in their language. It was not enough, would never be enough, but it was all he had.

  He stroked his hand lovingly from her throat, over her collarbone, down the soft swell of her breasts to her rib cage and belly, lower still to her mound and the dark curls covering treasure beyond any price, that secret haven meant for him. All the while he let himself drown in her dark eyes. Let her see how vulnerable he felt when they were alone together and he could show her how much she meant to him.

  “Can you feel me, Elisabeta? Inside your mind? Merged with you? Loving you?”

  She nodded, her gaze soft, melting. He felt the way she poured love into his mind. It was impossible not to feel her there, filling him, giving him everything she was, because that was her way. Elisabeta never held anything back when she made up her mind to give. For the first time, he had given her the same, letting her see she was his world.

  “I want
you to feel me inside you. In your body. Moving in you. Filling you with love. With me. I want our bodies to be one, just the way our minds are.”

  He watched her eyes. Those eyes of hers that said so much, that were so poignant. If she was too afraid, he would see it there almost before he would know it in her mind. Her fear might be in her mind, but admittedly, when she didn’t know what to expect, she was often afraid but willing to try. But her eyes . . . They shared the same soul, and it would be there in her eyes that he would see the truth.

  “If you are not ready, we will wait.” He would find the patience because she was worth the wait. “If it takes years, we will wait.” He let her see that he meant it. “Being with you is a gift I never really expected to have and it is greater than I ever thought possible. You bring me such joy, Elisabeta. Minan piŋe sarnanak, you truly hold my heart and soul in your hands.”

  Elisabeta reached up and framed his face with her hands. “You are what I hold dear, Ferro. You are what I believe in. I wake with joy and look forward to each rising, wondering what new journey we will have together. You have taught me so many things already and I am always eager for each lesson. Sometimes I am afraid, that is true, but I trust you. Each time I have put my faith in you, you have come through for me, so my trust runs very deep. More than anything, I want to be wholly yours in every way.”

  He could hear the ring of truth in her voice. Feel it in her mind. See it in her eyes. For Elisabeta to be able to trust anyone, let alone a Carpathian male, especially one as dominant and frightening as he knew he appeared, was a miracle in itself. The fact that she gave that trust to him each rising, each time he called her from her slumber and brought her from the healing earth to once more face new lessons that had to terrify her, humbled him beyond imagining.

  Ferro bent his head to brush a kiss gently over her eyes and then her lips. His teeth bit down gently on her lower lip and then slipped over her chin to her throat. His hands were more possessive than he had ever allowed himself to be with her, sliding over her skin, claiming her body, gentle in his touch, but making it clear that she was his.

 

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