Dark Prince (Dark Series - book 1)

by Christine Feehan

  Mikhail was brutally honest with himself. After waiting several lifetimes for this woman, he didn’t want her with anyone else. He had never thought of feeding as an intimate thing; it was a simple necessity. But the idea of Raven biting into another man’s neck, taking his life force into her body, was abhorrent to him. Every time he gave her his blood, he felt sexual excitement, an overwhelming need to protect and care for her. He had no idea what other Carpathian men felt for their mates, but he knew any man near Raven would be in grave danger. It was just as well her human mind refused to allow her to accept their way of preying on humans.

  Raven stirred in his arms, stretched languidly. “I was thinking of something upsetting and you took it away, didn’t you?” There was a hint of a smile in her voice.

  He allowed her freedom, watched her sink beneath the foaming water, surface a few feet away. Her large eyes were moving over him with definite laughter. “You know, Mikhail, I’m beginning to think my very first assessment of your character was correct. You’re arrogant and bossy.”

  He swam toward her with lazy, easy strokes. “But I am sexy.”

  She backpedaled, sent a spray of water at him with the flat of her hand. “Stay away from me. Every time you get near me, something crazy happens.”

  “Now might be a good time to take you to task for placing your life in danger. You should never have followed the assassins from the inn. You knew I was unable to hear if you called for help.” He kept swimming toward her, as relentless as a shark.

  Raven took the coward’s way out and waded out of the pool, flinging herself into the next large one. The water was cold on her heated skin. She pointed a finger at him, her soft mouth curving. “I told you I was going to try to help you. In any case, if you dare to lecture me, I’ll have no choice but to go into just how unethical it was to bind me to you without my consent. Tell me—if I hadn’t followed the assassins and Jacob hadn’t stabbed me, I would have remained human, wouldn’t I?”

  Mikhail rose out of the pool, water streaming off his body. Raven’s breath caught in her throat. He looked magnificent, so masculine and powerful. In one fluid leap, he launched himself into the air, jackknifed, and cut cleanly into the deep pool. She found her heart beating frantically, her blood singing for him. He came up behind her, his hands pning her waist, dragging her close, his powerful legs keeping them afloat.

  “You would still be human,” he agreed, his voice a black magic spell that could send heat coiling through her despite the cold water.

  “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.” His hands settled around her neck, urged her close to him until his mouth found hers and they melted together, sinking beneath the cool waters of the natural pool.

  Half the night was gone when Mikhail carried her back to their home. Raven hastily wrapped herself in one of his shirts. “Do you realize I don’t have any clothes here?” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, blushing every time his dark gaze brushed her body. She could still feel the imprint of his body on hers, the strength of his possession. “I need to get back to the inn. All of my things are there.”

  His eyebrow shot up. Now was not the time to tell her she really wouldn’t need clothes. Her personal things would help ease the transition. He reached a lazy arm for his own clothes. “I’m sure Mrs. Galvenstein will deliver your things for us. I will call and make sure it is done immediately. I will be going out for a short time, Raven. There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of. You will be safe here.”

  Her chin lifted in challenge. “I’ll throw something together and come with you. I never want to go through another day like the one I had when I couldn’t reach you. It was hell. It really was, Mikhail.”

  At once his dark eyes touched her face with gentleness. “I never wanted that for you. Gregori placed me in a healing sleep, little one, and I could not answer your call. That was not supposed to happen. I sent Father Hummer to you, thinking I would be asleep, but if there was great need, I would surface enough to reassure you.”

  “But it didn’t happen like that.”

  He shook his head. “No, Raven. Gregori sent me into a healing sleep. One does not surface when Gregori has elected otherwise. He did not know about you, about your need for my touch. It was my failing, not his, and I am sorry.”

  “I know,” she acknowledged. “You can see why I can’t be without you now. I’m afraid, Mikhail, afraid of everything, myself, you, what I’ve done here.”

  “Not this time, little one,” he said very gently, wishing it could be otherwise. “It is essential to find the other assassins. I cannot let any danger come near you. You will be safe here. I am not asleep; I can touch your mind with mine and you can just as easily reach for me if necessary. There is no need for fear.”

  “I’m not the stay-at-home-and-be-safe type,” she objected.

  He turned, large, powerful, his face an implacable mask. Mikhail looked menacing, invincible. Raven stepped backwards involuntarily, her blue eyes darkening to a deep sapphire. Instantly Mikhail took her hand and brought it to the warmth of his mouth. “Do not look at me like that. Your life was nearly taken from me. Do you have any idea what it was like for me to awaken to your cry? To feel your fear, know that disgusting excuse for a man hit you? To feel the blade slice into your body again and again? You nearly died in my arms. I breathed for you, kept your heart beating. I made a decision I knew you might never forgive me for making. I am not ready to take a chance with your life. Can you possibly understand that?”

  She could feel his body trembling with his intense emotion. His arms wrapped around her, dragged her to him. “Please, Raven, let me just keep you in a cocoon, at least until I get that sight out of my mind.” His fingers tunneled into the thick mass of blue-black hair. Mikhail molded her slender form to his larger frame, held her close as if he could shelter her from any further harm.

  Raven wound her arms around his neck. “It’s all right, Mikhail. Nothing is going to happen to me.” She nuzzled his neck, seeking to reassure him, to push his fear away, as well as her own. “I guess both of us are going to have to make some adjustments.”

  His kiss was tender and very gentle. “You need to take it easy. Six days of sleep and healing were not enough.”

  “Six days? That’s incredible. Has anyone ever analyzed your blood?”

  Mikhail released her reluctantly. “None of us can go near a human medical facility. We take care of our own.”

  Raven picked up a brush, idly began to use long strokes to smooth the tangles from her damp mane of hair. “Who was the woman trapped in the ground?”

  His face closed down, all traces of gentleness gone as if they had never been. “Her name is Eleanor. She gave birth to a male.” His tone was devoid of emotion.

  She sat cross-legged on the bed, tilting her head sideways as she brushed her long hair. “You don’t like her?”

  “She betrayed you. She allowed that devil woman to overhear her and I nearly lost you.” He was buttoning his shirt, and the s
ight of his long, lean fingers performing the simple task fascinated her. “You were under my protection. What that means, Raven, is that all Carpathians must put your safety above their own.”

  Her small teeth tugged at her lower lip. She sensed, beneath his emotionless mask, a relentless, merciless fury directed toward that unknown woman. Mikhail’s feelings for her were ferociously intense and unfamiliar to him. Just as Raven was having difficulty adjusting, so was he.

  She chose her words carefully. “Have you ever seen a woman give birth, Mikhail? It is painful and frightening. For the woman to be in control, she needs a safe environment. She feared for the life of her unborn child. Please don’t judge her so harshly. In her circumstances I would have been hysterical.”

  He cupped her face in his large palm, his thumb caressing her soft, satin skin. “You have such compassion in you. Eleanor nearly cost you your life.”

  “No, Mikhail. Jacob nearly cost me my life. Eleanor tried as hard as she could. There is no blame, or all of us must share in it.”

  He turned away from her. “I know I should have kept you by my side. I should never have sought the refuge of the earth’s healing powers. It took me too far from you. Gregori thinks only of my protection.”

  In the mirror, Raven could see pain etched clearly on his face. “There was a moment, little one, when I awoke to your cry, and I was encased in the soil and powerless to help you. Only my fury fed the storm. As I clawed my way to the surface, I felt every slice of the blade, and I knew I had failed you. In that moment, Raven, I faced something so terrible, so savage and monstrous in me, I still cannot examine it too closely. If he had slain you, no one would have been safe. No one.” He made the admission in a tight, controlled voice, his back rigid. “Not Carpathian, not human. I can only pray that if such a thing should ever happen again, Gregori will slay me immediately.”

  Raven stepped in front of him and framed his face with her hands. “Sometimes grief brings things out in people better left hidden. No one is perfect. Not me, not Eleanor, and not even you.”

  A faint, self-mocking smile touched his well-cut mouth. “I have lived centuries and endured vampire hunts, wars, and betrayals. Until you came into my life, I have never lost control. I never had anything I wanted so much; I never had anything to lose.”

  She pulled his head down to her, pressed little healing kisses to his throat, his strong jaw, to the hard corners of his mouth. “You are a good man, Mikhail.” She grinned impishly, her blue eyes teasing. “You just have too much power for your own good. But don’t worry; I know this American girl. She’s very disrespectful and she’ll take all that arrogant starch out of you.”

  His answering laughter was slow in coming, but with it the terrible tension drained out of him. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, swinging her around, crushing her to him. As always her heart jumped wildly. His mouth fastened on hers as he whirled them across the room to land on the bed.

  Raven’s laughter was soft and taunting. “We can’t possibly again.”

  His body was settling over hers, his knee nudging her thighs apart so he could press against her soft, welcoming body. “I think you should just stay naked and waiting for me,” he growled, stroking her to ensure her readiness.

  She lifted her hips invitingly. “I’m not sure we’ll know how to do this in a bed.” The last word was a gasp of pleasure as he joined their bodies.

  His mouth found hers again, laughter mingling with the sweet taste of passion. His hands shaped her breasts possessively, tunneled in her hair. There was so much joy in her heart, in her mind; so much compassion and sweetness. His eternity would be filled with her laughter and her zest for life. He laughed aloud for the sheer joy of it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mikhail had been gone for two long hours. Raven wandered around the house, familiarizing herself with the rooms. She liked her solitude and was grateful for the time to try to sort things out logically. As hard as she tried, she could not make what she had become seem real to her. Only Mikhail was sanity. He was on her mind continually, invading her thoughts, pushing out everything insane until there was only him.

  His blood was in her veins, his scent on her body, his mark at her throat and breast. The feel of his possession was in every step, every movement of her body. Raven wrapped his shirt closer. She knew he was alive and well; he had touched her mind often, sending warm reassurance. She found she welcomed the brushing touch, craved it, was aware that he shared the same deep need to merge often with her.

  With a sigh she enveloped herself in his long, warm cape. All at once the house was too stifling, like a prison instead of a home. The long wraparound porch beckoned to her; the night seemed to call her name. She caught at the doorknob, twisted. At once the night air rushed over her, cooling and filled with intriguing scents. She wandered out onto the porch, leaned against a tall column and inhaled deeply, drawing the night into her lungs. She could feel a drawing, a calling. Without conscious thought she stepped off the porch and began to wander along the path.

  The night whispered and sang, beckoning her into deep forest. An owl hissed softly across the sky; a trio of deer stepped warily from cover to dip velvet muzzles in the cold stream. Raven felt their joy in living, their acceptance of their daily life-and-death struggle. She could hear the sap in the trees thrumming like the ebb and flow of the tide. Her bare feet seemed to find soft ground, avoiding twigs and thorns and sharp rocks. The rush of the water, the sound of the wind, the very heartbeat of the earth called to her.

  Entranced, Raven wandered aimlessly, enfolded in Mikhail’s long black cape, her hair falling past her hips in a thick cascade of blue-black silk. She looked ethereal, her pale skin almost translucent in the moonlight, her large eyes so dark blue that they were purple. The cape parted occasionally to reveal an intriguing glimpse of bare, shapely leg.

  Something rippled in her mind, disturbing the tranquil beauty of the night.

  Grief.Tears.

  Raven halted, blinked rapidly, tried to determine her surroundings. She had wandered as if she was in a beautiful dream. She turned in the direction of the intense emotion. Without conscious thought, her feet began to move forward. Her mind automatically processed information.

  A human male. Early twenties. His genuine grief ran deep. There was anger toward his father, confusion, and guilt that he had arrived too late. Something deep in Raven responded to his overwhelming need. He was huddled against a broad tree trunk, down low near the timberline. His knees were drawn up, his face buried in his hands.

  Raven deliberately made a sound as she approached. The man lifted a tear-streaked face, his eyes wide with shock as he spotted her. He began to scramble to his feet.

  “Please don’t get up,” Raven said quietly, her voice as soft as the night itself. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I couldn’t sleep and came out walking. Would you prefer me to leave?”

  Rudy Romanov found himself staring in awe at a dream figure that seemed to materialize out of the mist. She was like nothing he had ever seen before, as shrouded in mystery as the dark forest itself. Words caught in his throat. Had his grief conjured her up? He could almost believe the ridiculous, superstitious tales his father had told him. Tales of vampires and women of the darkness, sirens luring men to their doom.

  The man was staring at her as if she were a ghost. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured gently and turned to leave him.

  “No! Don’t go.” His English was heavily accented. “For a minute, coming out of the mist like that, you hardly looked real.”

  Aware that she had little on beneath the long cape, Raven drew it closer around her. “Are you all right? Can I call someone for you? The priest, perhaps? Your family?”

  “There is no one, not anymore. I’m Rudy Romanov. You must have heard the news about my parents.”

  An unholy vision burst in her head. She saw wolves boiling from the forest, red eyes gleaming fiercely, a huge black wolf leading the pack and bearing stra
ight down on Hans Romanov. From the young man’s head, she picked up the memory of his mother, Heidi, lying on her bed, her husband’s fingers around her throat. For one awful moment she couldn’t breathe. What this man had suffered! Both parents taken from him in a matter of hours. His fanatical father had murdered his mother.

  “I’ve been ill; this is my first time out in days.” She moved closer to him beneath the outstretched limbs of the trees. She couldn’t very well tell him the truth—that she had been involved in the entire horrendous affair.

  To Rudy, she seemed a beautiful angel sent to console him. Rudy longed to touch her skin to see if it was really as soft as it appeared in the moonlight. Her voice was a gentle whisper, sexy, soothing, reaching into his mind to calm and heal. He cleared his throat. “My father murdered my mother a couple of nights ago. If only I had come home sooner. My mother called me, telling me some nonsense about him murdering a woman. He had delusions of vampires preying on people in the village. My father had always been superstitious, but I never thought he would go completely crazy. Mother said he and a group of fanatics were hunting vampires and marking prominent members of the community for murder. I thought he was just talking big, like he always did.” He glanced down at his hands. “I should have listened to her, but she admitted that no one else seemed to know of the murder. I assumed he’d lied about killing a woman, that it wasn’t the truth. Hell, maybe it wasn’t, but he was nuts. He strangled my mother. She died with her rosary in her hands.”