" Wake her, Gregori,” Mikhail demanded, dragging Raven into his arms. Very gently he cradled her to his chest, rocking her with his body.
Gregori complied as his form shimmered translucent, and then took shape beside Mikhail. For the first time there was a hint of anxiety in Gregori’s pale eyes, although there was hard arrogance stamped on his harshly handsome features.
Raven blinked, and took a moment to focus. Her breath caught in her throat, and fear leapt into her enormous, expressive eyes.
That look stabbed through Mikhail as nothing else might had done. “Csitri--little one.” He breathed the endearment softly, his breath warm against her ear. “Do not ever fear me.”
She pressed away from him. “I don’t know you,” she whispered, her voice strangled and raw, her eyes on his bloodstained hands.
Mikhail frowned and looked down at his hands. There was no blood there; he had bathed his body in the cleansing energy of the white-hot heat. No blood could remain on him. Vampire blood burned like acid--yet she still saw the scenes from the battle. He glanced at Gregori with a small frown of inquiry.
Gregori shook his head in puzzlement.
Raven seemed light and insubstantial in Mikhail’s arms, as if she might fade away to nothing. She needed nourishment and care. Very carefully Mikhail touched her mind. His skull exploded with pain. Her mind was a maze of fragments, desperately holding on to her sanity. She feared him, but even more, she was afraid to trust her own judgment. Fragments of the battle, of Mikhail standing in front of Andre, haunted her mind.
Her blue-violet gaze, so confused, so frantic and bewildered, sought and found Monique. She gave a small inarticulate cry and strained toward her.
Mikhail’s body went rigid. He turned his head slowly in the direction of her pleading gaze. Monique huddled beside her husband, her horrified eyes on Mikhail and the men crowding beside him. Mikhail forced down the wildness of his nature and his resentment of the humans that Raven would turn to for comfort rather than him.
For one long moment his black gaze rested on the male who had dared to put his hands around Raven’s throat and tried to end her life. Power pulsed in the room. Tension stretched into terror.
You are not helping, Gregori pointed out. And I must say, this is strange to be the one cautioning you against violence.
Very funny. But the exchange eased some of the ferocious need to retaliate in him. "

― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)