162
" I’m sorry I frightened you, little one; it was wrong of me. Go to sleep now and be safe. He murmured the words against her temple, his lips brushing her forehead in gentleness, brushing her mind with tenderness.
He could feel the curious fragmentation in her mind, as if she had been using her mental capabilities to follow some sick and twisted path. It was as if she had raw, gaping wounds in her mind that needed to heal. She was too worn out from their previous mental battle to fight him. He breathed with her, for her, slow and even, matching her heartbeats until she relaxed, drowsy and worn. He sent her to sleep, a whispered command, and her lashes drifted down. They fell asleep together, yet apart, she in her room, Mikhail in his sleeping chamber. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
167
" 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)
168
" His hair was the color of dark coffee beans, a dark espresso, drawn back and tied at the nape of his neck. His face was that of an angel or a devil, strength and power, with a sensual mouth that hinted at cruelty; his hooded eyes were black obsidian, black ice, pure black magic.
She couldn’t read him, couldn’t feel his emotions or hear his thoughts. That had never happened to her before. “Put me down. I feel silly with you carrying me off like some pirate.”
His long strides were taking them into deep forest. Branches swayed, bushes rustled. Her heart was beating out of control. She tensed, pushed against his shoulders, struggled uselessly.
His eyes moved possessively over her face, but his pace didn’t slow, and he didn’t answer her. It was humiliating that he didn’t appear to notice her struggles.
Raven allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder with a slight sigh. “Did you kidnap me or rescue me?”
Strong white teeth gleamed at her, a predator’s smile, a man’s amusement. “Perhaps a little of both. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
169
" I am sorry, little one, that you had to endure such a thing.” He carried her into his house and made for the library. Köd jutasz belső.
Raven could hear soft words in his own language muttered under his breath. He was swearing, and it made her smile. “What does that mean?”
He blinked down at her. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Literally, ‘Shadow take you.’ That old woman is evil.”
“She isn’t evil, Mikhail, she’s twisted, fanatical. It was like touching the mind of a burning crusader. She believes what she’s doing is right.” She rubbed the top of her head against the rigid set of his jaw.
“She is beneath contempt.” He spat the words. “She is obscene.” Very gently Mikhail deposited Raven in the comfort of his armchair. “She came to test me, to bring a priest into my home and try to outwit me. Her brush in my mind was clumsy and inept. She uses her gift to mark others for murder. She read only what I allowed.”
“Mikhail, she believes in vampires. How could she possibly think you’re a walking corpse? You have unusual gifts, but I can’t see you murdering a child to keep yourself alive. You go to church, you’re wearing a cross. The woman is nuts.” She rubbed at her pounding temples in an effort to relieve the pain.
Mikhail loomed over her, a dark shadow holding one of his herb concoctions in his hand. “And what if I was a mythical vampire, little one, holding you captive in my lair?”
She smiled up at his serious face, absorbing the pain in his brooding eyes. “I would trust you with my life, Mikhail, vampire or not. And I would trust you with the life of my children. You’re arrogant and sometimes overbearing, but you could never be evil. If you are a vampire, then a vampire is not the creature of the legends.”
He moved away from her, not wanting her to see how much her total, unconditional acceptance meant to him. It didn’t matter to him that she didn’t know what she was saying. He felt the truth of her words. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
170
" I do know that Mikhail said when the male of his race meets his true lifemate, he can say ritual words to her and bind them together as they were meant to be. If she is not the one, neither is affected in any way, but if she is, one can’t be without the other.”
Raven put a defensive hand to her throat. “What words? Did he tell you the actual words?” She remembered the words he’d whispered in his native language and then repeated to her in her language. She’d felt different, and he’d told her they were married in the eyes of his people, but that hadn’t seemed real. A dream, perhaps, hadn’t it been?
Father Hummer shook his head regretfully. “Only that once said to the right woman, she is bound to him and can’t escape. The words are like our marriage vows. Carpathians have a different standard of values, of right and wrong. There is no such thing as divorce to them, it isn’t in their vocabulary. The two people are virtually two halves of the same whole.”
“What if one was unhappy?” Her fingers were twisting together in agitation. She remembered hearing Mikhail say something unusual. The memory was hazy, but he’d referred to her as his lifemate more than once. She should have known he was being literal.
“A Carpathian male will do anything necessary to ensure the happiness of his lifemate. I don’t know or understand how it works, but Mikhail told me the bond is so strong, a male can’t do anything else but make his woman happy.”
“I don’t understand how taking away choices would ever make anyone happy.”
“I believe, in this instance,” Father Hummer pointed out with a small smile, “Mikhail has no real choice either, not if you’re his true lifemate. He accepts what is because he is a true Carpathian.”
“But I’m not,” Raven said. “I don’t like secrets and I abhor lies, yet I find myself saying things that aren’t true because it seems in Mikhail’s best interest.”
“He didn’t ask it of you, did he? That was your choice,” he argued gently. “How much has he told you of himself?”
“Not much.” Wary now, she felt she was treading on treacherous ground. At all costs, she had to protect Mikhail--even if it meant lying to a priest. She hated that she would, but she knew she would never betray Mikhail. Raven touched her neck, her palm lingering over her pulse. “Whatever he did must work, Father, because I’m not the type to throw myself off a balcony because I’ve been away from a man a couple of hours.”
“I guess we should both be hoping Mikhail is getting a taste of his own medicine,” Father Hummer said with a small smile. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
171
" Wanting to distract her, he bent to examine her abdomen, his fingers splaying possessively over her skin, touching each white scar gently. “Your wounds are nearly healed.”
She half sat, astonished. “That’s impossible.”
He lifted his hands out of the way to show her the long scars. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Mikhail’s eyes darkened and burned, brushed her bare breasts with heat. Raven’s small teeth tugged at her lower lip, and a red flush spread over her entire body. She clutched at the sheet and dragged it over her.
His white teeth gleamed at her in a predator’s smile, pure taunting male. He leaned close so that his mouth brushed across her ear as he spoke. His warm breath beckoned and enticed. “I have kissed every inch of your body. I have been in every secret corner of your mind.” His teeth skimmed her earlobe, sent a shiver along her spine. “I will admit, the blush suits you.”
Raven found herself holding her breath, heat coiling deep within her. She pressed her forehead against the heavy muscles of his chest so that he couldn’t see the answering flare in her eyes. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
173
" Thank you, Mikhail, for my blue jeans.” She gave him a faint smile over her shoulder.
He found her mysterious, sexy, innocent, and so very fragile. In the depths of her blue eyes he could find no anger, no blame, only love for him shining there.
“I am happy you like them, although I still say they are garb for men, not a beautiful woman. I was hoping they would make you smile.”
“Only because you get that pained look on your face. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
174
" I will never get enough of you, Raven, never. But you need to soak in the tub, and I need to feed.”
“Eat.” She bent to fill the tub with hot, steamy water. “In English you use the word eat. I’m not the greatest cook, but I could put something together for you.”
His white teeth gleamed like a predator’s as he lit candles for her. “You are not here as my slave, little one. At least not in the domestic sense.” His eyes watched without blinking as she knotted her hair on top of her head. It was unnerving, yet Raven’s body tingled under the heat of his gaze. He held out a hand to help her into the large tub. The moment his strong fingers closed around hers, Raven had the peculiar sensation of being captured. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
179
" You are much safer in my care.”
She pushed at the wall of his chest, found her hands trapped against the heat of his skin. He merely tightened his hold, amusement spreading warmth to the coldness of his eyes. “You cannot fight me, Raven.”
“I want to go back, Mikhail.” She worked to keep her voice under control. She wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. She feared he knew the truth before she even knew it. He was inside her mind, felt what she felt. He knew the price she paid for her gift. The pull between them was so strong, she could hardly think straight.
The house loomed up, dark, threatening, a rambling hulk of stone. Her fingers twisted in his shirt. Mikhail knew she was unaware of that nervous, telltale gesture. “You are safe with me, Raven. I would not allow anyone or anything to harm you.”
She swallowed nervously as he pushed open the heavy iron gates and mounted the steps. “Just you.” She said it under her breath, but knew he heard her. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
180
" Eric, clean up here. Make certain no one will find their bodies,” he added as he lent his large frame as a shelter from the wild storm over Raven.
“She is not dead,” Mikhail hissed, seeing the compassion in his brother’s eyes.
“She is dying, Mikhail.” Jacques’s chest hurt with the knowledge.
Mikhail dragged her to him, bent his head until his cheek lay against hers. I know you can hear me; you must drink, Raven. Drink deeply.
He felt the faint stirring in his mind. Warmth, regret. So much pain. Let me go. I’m sorry.
No! Never, sivamet--my love, do not talk. Just drink. For me, if you love me, for me, for my life, drink what I offer. Before Jacques could guess his intent and try to stop him, Mikhail jabbed deeply into his own jugular.
Dark blood spurted. Mikhail forced her mouth to him, using every considerable power he possessed to force compliance. Her will obeyed, her body was almost too weak to follow. She swallowed what poured into her but could not draw deeply on her own.
Bolt after bolt of lightning slammed to earth. A tree exploded, and rained fiery sparks. The earth heaved again, rolled, came apart at the seams. Gregori loomed over them, the darkest of the Carpathians, his pale eyes ice cold and holding the stark promise of death.
“The wolves did their job,” Eric reported grimly. “The lightning and earthquakes will do the rest.” Jacques ignored him, gripping Mikhail’s shoulder. “Enough, Mikhail. You grow too weak. She has lost too much blood. She has internal injuries.”
Black rage filled Mikhail. He threw back his head and roared his denial, the sound exploding through the forest and mountains like the booming of the thunder. Trees burst into flames around them, exploding like sticks of dynamite.
“Mikhail.” Jacques refused to relinquish his hold. “Stop her now.”
“She has my blood; it will heal her. If we can keep blood in her, get her into the soil, and perform the healing ritual, then she will live.”
“Kaćak--stars, Mikhail. It’s enough.” Jacques’s voice held very real fear.
Gregori touched Mikhail to draw his attention. Those pale eyes held command. “If you die, my old friend, we have no chance of saving her. We must work together if we are to do this thing. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)
