123
" He took the form of mist. In the heavy fog it was unnoticeable, and he could easily seep beneath her unsecured window. He watched her as she sank onto the bed. Her face was pale, her eyes haunted. She swept her mane of hair back, touching his mark as if it ached. It took her a few minutes to kick off her shoes, as if the task was too great.
Mikhail waited until she had flung herself facedown, fully clothed on the bed. You will sleep. He gave the order forcefully, expected her compliance as he slipped inside the room.
Mikhail. His name echoed in his head, soft, drowsy, with a hint of amusement. Somehow I knew you would just have to have your way. She didn’t fight it, but went under willingly, a smile curving her soft mouth.
Mikhail undressed her and slid her slender body beneath the covers. He safeguarded the door, a powerful spell guaranteed to keep even the strongest of his own people out, let alone pathetic mortal assassins. He secured the windows and provided the same guards at every possible entry point. Very gently he brushed his lips across her forehead, and then reached down to touch his brand on her neck before leaving her. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
124
" I will set the safeguards and sleep a few feet above you to ensure your protection,” Jacques said softly. He had lost his sister to the assassin; he was not about to lose his brother. He needed the rejuvenating soil himself. Even with Eric and Byron to replenish him, he knew he was still weak and needed the healing sleep.
Mikhail lifted an eyebrow. “Five minutes in her company, and you are ready to mutiny.” A small, weary smile softened the hard line of his mouth.
He closed his eyes tiredly, guilt washing over him. It would be Raven who bore the brunt of this night. He would be deep in the ground, far beyond pain, beyond knowledge of separation, beyond grief and the hatred for his species. Raven would be surrounded by the assassins, in danger every moment. More than that, she would have to endure the loss of their mind touch. Csitri--little one. He put a wealth of love in his summons.
You are better? Relief.
I am getting there quickly. Are you in bed?
Always the bed thing. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
125
" Aidan advanced on Raven, his glittering eyes golden and piercing as his gaze swept over the mortals huddled behind her. “Come with us,” he ordered abruptly. “Mikhail wishes us to see that you are safe.”
Raven’s eyebrows shot up while Monique clutched her arm, clearly frightened. Byron moved in from the other side, effectively boxing her in. “Why?”
“Mikhail wishes us to see that you are safe, and then we must deal with the mortals,” Aidan explained quietly.
Raven scowled at him. “No one is going to deal with these people. Believe it or not, they have feelings. They’re real human beings, and they’ve been put through hell.”
Aidan glanced at Byron and then pinned Raven with a very stern, very male glare meant to intimidate. “They are mortals who know too much. One of them put his hands on you.”
Raven touched her neck without thinking and then dropped her hands. “Did Mikhail tell you that?” She was furious at that thought, but more upset that she was stuck protecting the couple, when Mikhail clearly was in danger. Even more, Aidan never really looked at the couple as a man and woman, but rather as puppets unable to hear what was being said. She might be Carpathian, but it wasn’t that long ago that she’d been human.
“Mikhail did not need to tell me. I smell his stench on you. I can see the marks of his fingers. It is clear he attempted to kill you. Can you deny it?”
Monique cried out and inched closer to her husband.
Raven sighed. “No, of course not, but there were circumstances you perhaps don’t understand.” She tried to be reasonable when she didn’t feel reasonable. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
126
" I could love you all night, Raven,” he murmured enticingly against her throat. His hands moved over her body, leaving fire in their wake. “I want to love you all night.”
“Isn’t that the point? It’s dawn.” Her hands had a mind of their own, finding every defined muscle with her fingertips, stroking across his hard male form, seeking her own exploration.
“Then I will spend the day making love to you.” He whispered the words against her mouth, bent closer to nibble at the corners of her lower lip. “I need you with me, Raven. You chase away the shadows and lighten the terrible load that threatens to drown me.”
She skimmed her fingertips across the hard edges of his mouth. “Is this possession, or is it love?” She dipped her head to press her mouth to the hollow of his sternum, to slide her tongue over the ultrasensitive skin above his heart. There was no mark, no scar, but the sweep of her tongue followed the exact line of his earlier wound, where he had forced her to accept his life’s blood. She was merged with him, reading his mind, his erotic fantasies, wanting to bring them to life.
His gut clenched hotly, his body responding with fierce aggression. Raven smiled at the feel of his hard length burning against her skin. She had no inhibitions when she lay with him, only a fierce desire to burn with him. “Answer me, Mikhail--the truth.” Her fingertips brushed his velvet tip, fingers curled around the heavy thickness of him sending hunger raging through his body. She was playing with fire, but he didn’t have the strength to stop her; he didn’t want to stop her.
His hands curled in her damp hair, two tight fists. “Both,” he managed to gasp. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
127
" If I had stayed human, how could you have remained with me as a lifemate?” She pushed her rounded bottom against the cradle of his hips, enjoying the sudden excitement as his body swelled and hardened in response to the pressure. She laid her head back on his shoulder.
“I would have chosen to grow old with you and die when you died.” His reply was husky, and one hand cupped the softness of her breast. Her hair was brushing his body like so much silk, sending darts of pleasure through him.
Raven lifted her head abruptly, swung around to face him, her blue eyes searching the mysterious depths of his eyes. “Do you mean that, Mikhail? You would have stayed with me as I grew older?”
He nodded, trailed his fingers down her cheek in a gentle caress. “I would have aged right along with you. When your breath ceased, so would mine.”
She shook her head. “How can I resist you, Mikhail, when you steal my heart?”
His grin turned her heart over, somersaulted her stomach. “You are not supposed to resist me, little one. I am your other half. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
128
" Mikhail did not need to tell me. I smell his stench on you. I can see the marks of his fingers. It is clear he attempted to kill you. Can you deny it?”
Monique cried out and inched closer to her husband.
Raven sighed. “No, of course not, but there were circumstances you perhaps don’t understand.” She tried to be reasonable when she didn’t feel reasonable.
“I do not need to understand the why of it, only that he did it. Go with Byron.”
“Did someone die and leave you in charge?” Raven placed her body squarely in front of Monique. “You touch them over my dead body.” She squeezed Monique’s hand in reassurance as she stared down the Carpathian male.
Raven didn’t recognize him, but she did recognize the stamp of confidence he carried, the complete self-possession. His voice was soft and hypnotic, almost mesmerizing. Ignoring him, she deliberately turned toward Monique.
“Did you see where Andre put the key, so we can free Alexander?” Raven asked, attempting to move around the other Carpathian male blocking her path. She just managed not to laugh at the shocked look on Aidan’s face. “Don’t worry, Monique, they like to look tough and mean, but they’re really very sweet.” She didn’t know this particular Carpathian, but she was fairly certain Mikhail would have a few things to say if he dared touch her.
Aidan winced visibly at that. Raven was laughing openly at him, a teasing glint in her eye. No one teased him--not that he could remember--not since he was a boy, and his twin had still been close to him. He was at a complete loss as to what to do. He glanced at Byron, who shrugged. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
130
" I know I should never have taken your blood--it was wrong--but it was wrong because I did not tell you what could happen. I knew you were my true lifemate, and my existence could not continue without you. I should have had more control. For that I will pay through all eternity, but it is done. We cannot undo what has already been wrought.”
Mikhail finished new poultices, placed them precisely over the wounds to seal them. Her fear, her revulsion, her sense of betrayal, beat at his insides, making him want to weep for her, for both of them.
“What I did with you was not the same thing as using a human woman for sex. We did not just have sex; my body recognized you as my lifemate. There was no way I could ignore the call. I would have had to choose to end my life. The ritual demands the exchange of blood. It is not feeding hunger, it is purely a sensual exchange, a beautiful, erotic affirmation of love and trust. The first time I took your blood, I inadvertently took too much because I felt such ecstasy. I was out of control. I was wrong to tie you to me without your understanding of exactly what it all meant. But I allowed you to make the choice. You cannot deny it.”
Raven stared up at his face, reading the sorrow in his dark eyes, the fear for her. She wanted to touch him, to ease those lines of strain, to reassure him that she could handle what he was asking of her, but her brain could not accept what he was saying. “I would have chosen death, if you had allowed me to go with you.”
He pushed the hair from her face with gentle, caressing fingers. “The only way I could save you was to make you one of us. You chose life. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
131
" Csitri--little one. He put a wealth of love in his summons.
You are better? Relief.
I am getting there quickly. Are you in bed?
Always the bed thing. I heard you earlier, your fear for Jacques. I know it was Jacques. You have affection in your thoughts of him. Is he okay too?
He is tired. He gave me blood. It was draining to make the contact, to cover the distance, but he needed it desperately for both their sakes.
I can hear your weariness. Sleep now. You’re not to worry about me, she instructed softly.
She ached for the touch of his fingers, the sight of him, and that gave him satisfaction. She was already missing him--just as he was missing her.
“Mikhail, you are speaking with her,” Eric thundered. “You cannot.”
Jacques waved a dismissing hand at Eric. “You should have known he would do so. Mikhail, if you wish it, one of us can send her to sleep.”
It will be uncomfortable for you. You will find it difficult to sleep, to eat. You will need to be with me. Your mind will seek mine, yet you will be unable to reach me. I do not have the strength to aid you this night in sleeping. Will you allow Eric or Jacques to command you?
Mikhail didn’t like the idea. Raven found herself smiling. He had no idea how much she could read of him. He wanted her safe, wanted her asleep while he was, but he didn’t like the idea of another man doing something so intimate as commanding her to sleep. I’ll be fine, Mikhail. The truth is, it’s hard enough for me to accept that kind of thing from you. I could never accept it from one of them. I’ll be fine, I promise.
You are--sivamet--of my heart. I love you, little one. Those are the words of both your people and mine, and they come from my heart. Mikhail used a last burst of strength to send a plea to the only human he could trust to ensure Raven’s safety.
Raven closed her eyes, knowing she had to let him go before his strength was gone. Sleep, Mikhail. In the words of your people, you are my lifemate. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
132
" 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)
135
" I would have chosen death, if you had allowed me to go with you.”
He pushed the hair from her face with gentle, caressing fingers. “The only way I could save you was to make you one of us. You chose life.”
I didn’t know what I was doing. She hadn’t known, had she? Had some small part of her already been putting the pieces of the puzzle together? She honestly didn’t know.
“If you had known, would you have chosen death for me?”
Her blue eyes, so bewildered and confused, so haunted, searched his face. Release me, Mikhail, I do not like to lie here helpless.
Mikhail covered her body with a thin sheet. “Your wounds are severe, and you need blood, healing, and sleep. Do not move around.”
Her eyes chastised him. Mikhail touched her chin with gentle fingers. He released her, his eyes watchful. “Answer me, little one. Knowing what we are, would you have sent me to eternal darkness?”
She made a supreme effort to get herself under control. A part of her still could not believe this was happening. A part of her struggled to understand and be fair. “I told you I could accept you, even love you as you are, Mikhail. And I meant that then. The same is true now.” She was so weak, she could hardly speak. “I know you’re a good man, there is no evil in you. Father Hummer said I couldn’t judge you by our standards, and I won’t. No, I would have chosen life for you. I love you.”
There was too much sorrow in her eyes for him to feel relief. “But?” he prompted softly.
“I can accept it in you, Mikhail, but not for me. I could never drink blood. The thought of it sickens me.” her tongue touched her dry lips. “Can you change me back? A transfusion, perhaps?”
He shook his head regretfully.
“Then let me die. Just me. If you love me, let me go. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
137
" Raven spit into her hands and stumbled forward toward Jacques’s motionless body. “That vampire killed him,” she screamed hysterically. As her hands touched the forest floor, she scooped up handfuls of dirt. “Oh, God, he’s dead. You let that thing kill him!”
Using her slender body as a shield so no one could see what she was doing, Raven packed the wounds in Jacques’s throat with the soil and her healing saliva.
Drink, Jacques, now, so that you can last until Mikhail and Gregori arrive. Her wrist over his mouth, Raven continued to sob dramatically, thankful for once that so many men often thought women hysterical in a crisis.
Mikhail! Jacques is mortally wounded. He is in the sun. She sensed the approach of the human male and twisted her wrist gently in warning. Jacques was so weak, feeding blindly, he nearly missed the signal. His loss of blood was enormous. Even taking as much as he could in those few moments from Raven, she doubted if he could hold on.
With great dignity Raven covered his head and her handiwork with her cardigan and bent as if kissing him good-bye. Don’t let me down, Jacques. You must live. For me, for Mikhail, for all of us. Don’t let them win. Even as she sent the words to him, she could detect no pulse, no hint of his heart beating. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
139
" Why did you try to control me? It wasn’t purely an intellectual question, as she wanted it to be.
He sensed he had hurt her in some way, disappointed her. She moved restlessly, as if waiting for her lover. The thought of her with another man enraged him. Feelings after hundreds of years. Sharp, clear, in-focus. Real feelings.
It is my nature to control. That was the stark truth. He was a powerful being, and one responsible for his entire species. Control of such power was essential. He was exhilarated, joyous, yet at the same time all too aware that he was more dangerous than he had ever been. Power always needed control. The less emotion, the easier the restraint.
Don’t try to control me. There was something in her voice, something he sensed more than the actual words, as if she knew he was a threat to her. And he knew he was.
How does one control one’s nature, little one?
He saw her smile even as it filled his emptiness, as it registered in his heart and lungs and sent his blood soaring.
Why would you think I was little? I’m as big as a house.
I am to believe this?
The laughter faded from her voice, her thoughts, lingered in his blood. I’m tired, and again, I apologize. I enjoyed talking with you.
But? He prompted gently.
Good-bye. Finality.
Mikhail took flight, soaring high above the forest. It wasn’t good-bye. He wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t allow it. His survival depended on her. Something, someone, had aroused his interest, his will to live. She had reminded him that there was such a thing as laughter, that there was more to life than existence. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
