Dark Prince (Dark Series - book 1)

by Christine Feehan

  Mikhail slipped his arm around her shoulders. “We are going to take you somewhere safe.” He spoke softly, as if to a child.

  Raven’s gaze clung to Mikhail’s for a long, slow moment. Her smile was genuine this time, reaching her eyes and lighting them for the first time. “If only the three of you could see yourselves. It’s very sweet of you to treat me like I’m a fragile porcelain doll, especially when I feel a bit like one, but Mikhail is in me, as I am in him. I feel what he feels and know his thoughts, although he tries to keep them from me.” She leaned over to kiss his blue-shadowed jaw. “I love you for trying to protect me, but I’m not weak. I simply have to come to terms with the human bonds my mind puts on me. None of you can do it for me. I have to do it myself.”

  Jacques extended his hand to Raven with old-world gallantry. She took it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Mikhail rose beside her, his arm sweeping her into the shelter of his body. She needed the contact, the closeness, the solid reality of his hard frame. Gregori was the bodyguard, scanning the air, the ground, moving so that his body continually blocked the prince of their people and his lifemate.

  The three imposing figures surrounded the smaller one, moving as a unit, an honor guard, their paces slow and leisurely, their minds serene, with no hint of impatience or sign of their desire to get on to the night’s work. Hunger gnawed at Mikhail, but that, too, was kept at bay. When her mind touched his, she felt only love and concern, the desire to please her.

  Raven enjoyed the feel of the soft leaves under her feet as they moved through the forest. She lifted her face to embrace the wind, inhaled deeply to take in every secret the breeze could carry and would divulge. Every insect, every rustle in the underbrush, every separate sway of a branch lightened the terrible dread in her heart, pushed the fearful memories a little farther away.

  “I can take them away completely,” Mikhail offered gently.

  Raven flashed him a small smile, meant to reassure. Her body moved briefly against his. She was well aware of what a temptation that had been for him, how the other two males thought him insane for not taking the choice from her. “You know I prefer to keep my memories. All of them.”

  They walked for an hour, Mikhail subtly guiding her up a winding narrow track deeper into the forest and higher up the mountain. The cabin was hidden back against a cliff. The trees grew thick, nearly to the very walls. It looked small from the outside, dark and abandoned.

  It was Jacques and Gregori who transformed the dark interior of the cabin. The layer of dust disappeared with a hand wave. The logs in the fireplace burst into flame. Candles flickered, and the scent of the woods permeated the interior.

  Raven entered the cabin without protest. Gregori and Jacques moved quickly through the small building, supplying as many comforts as they were able in a brief period of time. Then they retreated to the sanctuary of the forest to give Mikhail and Raven some time alone.

  Raven paced across the wooden floor, putting distance between herself and Mikhail. She was still very fragile, and she wanted to spare Mikhail as much as possible. She touched the back of a chair, curling her fingers around the solid wood. The familiar feel of wood helped to lessen her trembling.

  “Thank you, Mikhail, for my blue jeans.” She gave him a faint smile over her shoulder. 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.” She stood at the window, her eyes easily piercing the darkness. “I never want to do that again.” She said it starkly, meaning it. Wanting him to know she meant it.

  Mikhail inhaled sharply, cutting off his first response. He chose his words carefully. “Our blood and, ultimately, our bodies, welcome the soil. Overnight the wound on my leg was gone. Your wounds, so deep, all mortal, were healed in six days.”

  Raven watched the wind tug at leaves on the ground. “I’m very intelligent, Mikhail. I can see for myself that what you’re telling me is true. Intellectually, I may even accept it, marvel at it. But I never want to do that again. I cannot. I will not, and I ask that you accept this failing in me.”

  He crossed the distance separating them. His hand curled around the nape of her neck to drag her into his arms. He held her, there in the old cabin, deep within his mountains and forest. He grieved for the loss of his home, his books, grieved for his past, but most of all, he grieved over his inability to spare Raven. He could command the earth, the animals, the sky, yet he could not bring himself to remove her memories because she had asked him not to do so. Such an innocent, small request.

  Raven lifted her head, studying his shadowed features with serious eyes.. Very gently she smoothed the deep lines of worry from his forehead. “Don’t be sad for me, Mikhail, and stop taking so much on yourself. Memories are useful things. When I am stronger, I can take this out and examine it, look at it from all angles and perhaps grow more comfortable with the things we have to do to protect ourselves.” There was a trace of humor and a good amount of skepticism at the thought.

  Raven took his hand. “You know, my love, you are not responsible for my happiness, or even for my health. I’ve had a choice every step of the way, from our very first meeting. I chose you. Clearly, in my heart, and in my head, I chose you. If I had it to do over again, even knowing what I would have to go through, I would choose you without hesitation.”

  His smile could melt her heart. Mikhail cupped her face in his hands, lowered his head to capture her mouth with his. Instantly electricity crackled between them. She could taste his love in the moist darkness of his mouth. Hunger rose, sharp and gnawing. The sound of blood surging hotly, the beating of hearts, the instant explosive chemistry was nearly overwhelming for both of them. Although his arms slipped around her, dragged her close against his hard frame, his tender mouth carried the unmistakable flavor of intense love. Mikhail’s fingers tangled in her silky hair as if he would hold her for all eternity.

  Raven melted into him; for a heartbeat of time she was boneless, pliant, honeyed heat warming him. She pulled away first. It was easy to read the clawing hunger in him; it was growing in her. Her body needed nourishment after its grueling ordeal. She lifted long lashes to his beloved, masculine features, took in the sensual stamp of his mouth, the slumbering, sensual invitation in his black gaze.

  Raven kissed his throat, her hands going to the buttons of his shirt. Her body clenched, pulsing with heat and hunger. Her mouth moved over his skin. She inhaled his scent, the wild mystery of the night. Inside, the terrible craving grew and spread like wildfire. Her tongue tasted the texture of his skin, traced the line of his muscle, moved back to stroke across the pulse beating so strongly in his throat. “I love you, Mikhail.” The words were whispered against his throat. A siren’s whisper. Silk and candlelight. Satin and hot, steamy sex.

  Every muscle in his body tightened. Need swept through him, anticipation. She was a miracle of beauty, a mix of human frailties, courage, and compassion. Mikhail’s fist, bunched in her hair, held her head to him. Her mouth was a silken flame moving over his chest, building heat and fire until his mind was a red haze of hunger.

  “This is dangerous, little one.” Black velvet seduction was in the molten huskiness of his voice.

  “I need you.” She whispered the truth, and her breath warmed his flat nipples, doing intriguing things to his chest. She did need him. His hard body, hot and wild, stamped out the feel of the cold earth closing over her head. Her body moved restlessly, suggestively against his. Her hands slid downward, parting the edges of his shirt and lower still to find the zipper where his sex strained to break free. His gasp was audible, a harsh groan of raw need answering the enticing brush of her fingers. “I need to feel your body in mine, Mikhail, real and alive. I need this more than I’ve ever needed an
ything. Touch me. Touch me everywhere. I want you deep inside me.”

  Mikhail tugged her shirt over her head and dropped it to one side. His hands pned her narrow rib cage, arching her body backwards so he could rub his shadowed jaw across the soft creamy swell of her breasts. The abrasive brush sent flames licking along every nerve ending. His mouth moved up to trace the softness of her lips. His tongue stroked the fragile line of her neck where her pulse beat so frantically, the vulnerable line of her throat, slowly, with great care, before lowering with deliberately tormenting laziness to her nipple. She felt a rush of damp heat, a fiery ache. When his lips closed over her breast, hot and erotic, she cried out and threw her head back, arching into him, offering herself up to the strong pull of his hot mouth.

  Without warning, the monster in him broke free, growling possessively and clawing away her offensive blue jeans. Teeth scraped her flat stomach as he dropped to his knees. Through the thin cotton panties she felt the hot moist probing of his tongue, wild, wet, stealing her breath. He ripped away the thin material to attack, stroking and caressing.

  Raven cried out, welcoming the untamed beast in him, rising to meet his erotic assault. When he ripped the panties aside she pressed herself to the hot hunger of his mouth. Mikhail growled low in his throat, the sound a rumble of stark possession. He reveled in her wild response to his assault. He needed the uninhibited, abandoned grip of her clenched fists in his hair pulling him in closer to her, the husky, inarticulate cries issuing from her vulnerable throat. Her body clenched, white hot heat raging for release. Her cries became a plea.

  Growling with pleasure, his own body burning, scorched, and unbearably sensitive, he held her relentlessly on the edge. The power, the velvet heat, their mingled scents washed over him, became part of his insatiable desire. He wanted her to know that she was his, to burn and need mindlessly as he did.

  His own name echoed in his head with her soft, inarticulate pleas, the sound hardening his body to an unbearable ache. The power sharpened his hunger, put such an edge on his appetite, both sexual and physical, that he could barely find enough control to stop from devouring her. And his body demanded her touch, the silken heat of her mouth, the graze of her teeth over sensitized skin. His skin was so hot, aching for her.

  With a growl, he took her over the edge, her body rippling powerfully, clenching and unclenching, needing more, needing his invasion, needing his body filling hers. She dropped to her knees, pushed at his pants, tugged until they were at his thighs, until he was free and straining toward her. Raven’s nails raked his buttocks; her tongue found his heavy chest muscles.

  Her taunting laughter, low, seductive, echoed in his mind. The brush of her silky hair over his thighs was nearly unbearable. It was his turn and he let her know with a growling plea, an imperious demand. When she complied, the hot satin of her mouth, moist and erotic, nearly drove him crazy. If he had been in control, if he had been the one with power, it was now Raven’s, and she exulted in it, in what she could do to him.

  The growls rumbling in his throat became more animal, almost threatening. His hips moved in a frantic rhythm. Suddenly he could stand it no longer. Mikhail yanked her away from him, down to the floor, thrusting her knees apart to expose her for his possession. He pinned her down, took her with a single hard, powerful stroke of stark possession, filling her tight velvet feminine channel as deeply as was possible.

  Raven cried out as he buried himself harder, every thrust stormy and aggressive, each more wild and frantic than the one before. Her tongue stroked his throat. “Feed me, Mikhail. Feed me now while you take me, and then I’ll give you everything you need.” She whispered it like an enchantress, her very voice a drug adding to the excitement. She had never asked for his blood, his life’s fluid, and the idea was as sexy as her mouth on him. His body tightened, impossibly hard, yet her request enabled him to slow down so that he could feel the anticipation as her tongue stroked over his pulse. As he surged deeply into her fiery hot sheath, her teeth sank deep into him. White heat and blue lightning slammed through his body. He threw his head back at the exquisite pleasure-pain of it.

  The hot, sweet odor of his ancient blood mingled with their musk scents, the strong pull of her mouth coinciding with the strong grip of her body surrounding his. He matched her movements deliberately, felt her take his blood, his seed, the essence of life into her body. Her body dragged at his, insistent, a sweet torment, a velvet clutching, a milking, with the same dark fire as her silken mouth.

  The stroke of her tongue sent an aftershock rippling through both of them and they lay locked together, his body covering hers, his arms holding her in place, his every muscle rock hard and still in desperate need, as if he had never touched her. His hunger was a terrible thing far beyond craving, far beyond anything he had ever experienced.

  Raven’s hands smoothed his hair, then her palms rubbed over his jaw. She smiled, pure seduction, her hips arching deliberately into his, her muscles tight and gripping. She brought his head down to hers so that she could fasten her mouth to his, sharing the sweet taste of his blood, taunting, teasing, prolonging his need, bringing him to wild abandonment.

  He took control back, drinking deeply of her silken mouth, his tongue stroking down the line of her throat, lingering over her pulse, his teeth scraping, tantalizing, while his body took aggressive possession, plunging deep and hard.

  Raven murmured his name, dragged his head to her breast, lifting herself in pleading invitation. His chin rubbed over the creamy swell, delved into the valley between, his blue-shadowed jaw rasping sensitive skin. He cupped her breasts as his mouth closed over her, hot and moist, pulling strongly. She clutched him to her, her body exploding with pleasure, following the rhythm and pace he set.

  Mikhail lifted his head, his eyes slumberous, sexy, hypnotic, drawing her deeper into his very mind, his very soul. He nuzzled her breast, his tongue stroking, caressing. Openmouthed, he pressed wet, hot kisses over sensitive skin. His hips surged forward. Once more his eyes met hers, a clear demand.

  “Yes, please, yes,” she whispered urgently, dragging his head back to the heat of her body. “I want this, Mikhail.”

  His teeth grazed, pierced above her breast, the pain white hot, even as her body rippled, fragmented with searing ecstasy. Fangs sank deep, the hunger in him insatiable. He plunged into her wanting more, needing the consummate friction of fire and velvet sheathing him. He drank her in, taking her very life into his body, his mind merging with hers, his body claiming hers in pure male dominance.

  Dangerous. Sweetly dangerous. Hot pure sex laced with pure love and a complete merging of souls. He wanted it to last forever, this moment while they shared the same body, same skin, same mind. Fast and hard, slow and deep, each stroke exquisite torment, her blood filling every cell, swelling his strength, draining her as her body drained him. He felt himself hardening impossibly, swelling, stretching, relentlessly pushing his invasion to the maximum, taking both of them soaring, careening over the edge without control, exploding into fiery fragments, dissolving, falling to earth.

  Raven lay beneath him, listening to their combined heartbeats, her fingers threaded in his dark espresso-colored hair. Her body belonged to him; she belonged to him. His tongue caressed her skin, traced a single drop of blood over the swell of her breast. He rained kisses over her breasts, up her throat to find her mouth, gently, tenderly. His hand pned her throat, stroked with the pad of his thumb, reveling in the soft satin texture.

  It amazed him that she had chosen this moment to commit herself to their life as Carpathians. He had no doubt that she loved him and was committed to him, but he had known she was repulsed by the idea of how she would be forced to live. After a horrifying, traumatic experience, she had committed herself to her new life without reservation. As long as they were together, Mikhail was certain she would never be predictable.

  “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he asked softly.

  Her long lashes fluttered, lifted, so that h
er violet eyes locked with his. A slow, fascinating smile curved her mouth. “Maybe, just a little.” She smoothed a line from his forehead. “I’ll be fine tonight. Do what you have to do and don’t worry about me.”

  “I would prefer that you slept for a while.” He shifted, eased his weight off her, surprised to find that he was still partially dressed.

  “That’s only because you have so much anger toward Romanov you don’t want me to know what you’re doing.” She propped herself up on one elbow so that her thick mane of silky hair spilled across her body, a thin veil over her breasts.

  His gut clenched hotly at the sight, his dark eyes going black with a sudden flare of desire. She laughed softly, tauntingly. He bent down to taste temptation, his tongue bringing her nipple to a hard peak.

  Her fingers stroked through his thick hair tenderly. “You think to protect Jacques by leaving him here with me as my bodyguard.” Her eyes softened, warmed. “You think you are going to do something I will be unable to accept, but I believe in you, Mikhail. I think you are a great and fair man. You have every right to despise Romanov, but I know you can put that aside and do what is right. He is a young man, confused and angry, shaken and traumatized by his parents’ brutal deaths. Whatever he found that linked you to those deaths has driven him into a breakdown. It’s a terrible tragedy.”