The sound of his voice reached the deepest depths of her subconscious and the horror and fear of her reaction to him, even as she lay dying and struggling for life, slammed into Mikhal, making him reel. Even near death, his nearness inspired terror in her soul. The knowledge made him ill, made him fill with guilt for all he had done to her, and the pain that kept washing over him like waves was almost unbearable. The only thing that kept him going was that she was still alive. She was still alive.
Mikhal went to her, pulling her naked body from the water and cradled her close to his heart, wishing for all the world that his body could give her warmth. “Oh Sweet, I’m sorry. You’re safe now. We have to get you warm.”
“Let... let me... die” Her teeth were chattering and her breath was so shallow, the words were but a faint whisper, but Mikhal heard them nonetheless.
“No. You’re not going to die. I won’t let you. Everything will be all right. I promise, Pigeon.”
“Don’t... want... you.”
The familiar anger rose up inside him, masking for a moment Alliana’s own fears and hatred that filled him and his demon reacted as it always did. He grasped her shoulders tightly, ready to shake her, ready to chastise her for her stupidity, but her pain instantly squeezed his heart. His beast roared, furious, fighting, but his man cried out at it to stop, and in the end, this time, the man won. The emotions that were filling him were too confusing, too overwhelming, they made him vulnerable to the man inside who had been silenced for so very long.
Mikhal rose and carried her from the stream bank and knelt down, sweeping a patch of ground clear of snow as he did so, then gently set her down so he could remove his shirt. Wrapping the garment around her, he then gathered her into his arms again, kissing her face, and whispering worthless words of apology.
Again his demon howled at him. He was pitiful, weak, disgusting, but Mikhal didn’t care. His mate was before him, hovering near death, and the depths of her pain couldn’t be ignored, and so he continued.
Each time a litany of sorrowful pleas spilled from his lips, Alliana’s mind would scream out at him and he would feel her hatred. Her fear and disgust rocked him, as did the anguish and degradation she felt. He experienced her horror, her great sadness, her loneliness, and feelings of entrapment. He felt her soul crying out to be free, and the pain of it being crushed time and time again under his cruel thumb. All of it, all of the indignities, horrors, and agony that the mere presence of him inspired in his wife, engulfed Mikhal as well, and it was all he could do not to go insane.
He focused on her pale skin and blue lips. He grasped on to her feeling of terrible coldness and held fast, it was easier to deal with her physical discomfort knowing he had to and could, get her home and warm, than to dwell on her emotions.
Looking around, he spied her clothing, and rose up, holding her tight. He knelt down by her things, refusing to put her down, and cradled her in one arm, clumsily tearing the skirt of her dress from the bodice, and then ripped the folds of the material down the middle to make a makeshift blanket. Mikhal then wrapped her in it, tucking in the edges securely, to keep her delicate skin from the frigid night air.
Each touch repulsed her, even in her unconscious state, and Mikhal felt every bit of her disgust. Inwardly she shrank from him, her stomach roiling with nausea, her mind screaming her revulsion. Nothing could take away her feelings of disgust for him. Her hatred went beyond the boundaries of regular sight and sound and were centered deep in her soul because of their mating bond, and because of the of the Empathy curse, Mikhal was made aware of each and every thing that was happening in her heart.
“It’s okay, Sweet. I won’t hurt you. Alliana please. Never again, never, ever hurt you again. I’m sorry, so sorry.” His demon snarled at his pitiful words, and even part of his man knew they weren’t true. He’d never be able to abide fully, but at the moment, seeing her, feeling her like this, they felt so right.
He rose then, with his precious bundle clutched safely to his heart, and began to make his way back to the castle, which had once been his haven. He had no idea how the others would react, but he didn’t care. He’d tear the heads off anyone who dared to cross his path, be it the Mage or even Marishka. She’d a part to play in what had been done to him, and she would have to be chastised for it. No more would he tolerate her pouting and childish ways. This time her games had resulted in tragic consequences.
Mikhal wasn’t a fool. He knew the emotions he was feeling would cause him to be weaker, his man would fight to emerge and rule with temperance, but that would mean he would have to become stronger in the face of it all. Everything about the way he had lived his life would now take on a whole new light, but he would survive. He would, and Alliana would be at his side healthy and happy with their son, and no one was going to stop him. Perhaps there was a way to reverse the curse, perhaps not, but either way, he was strong enough to overcome the oppressive feelings inside him, and maintain his kingdom. He would fight for his mate and his son and anyone who dared come between them would die. It was that simple.
As he ran, Alliana’s head lolled back and the jostling of his frantic running made her moan in pain. Her mouth opened in a silent cry and Mikhal paused, torn between giving her the comfort she didn’t truly want from him, and getting her home where there was warmth and medicine.
He kissed her forehead briefly, murmuring sweet words that made her tense in his arms. Once more, the wave of revulsion she felt towards him because of his kiss, washed through his own heart. Any word, any touch, was pointless. It only upset her further. Knowing comforting her here was useless, and possibly even more damaging to her already tenuous hold on life, he began to race home once more. The time for apologies would come, but now wasn’t it. It killed him that she was so terrified and full of hatred, but the important thing was getting her warm and dry. He would deal with her heart later.
Finally, the shadow of the castle loomed large before him in the night. He rushed forward, through the outer walls and to the main doors. Two startled sentries quickly flung the heavy wooden slabs open at his approach, averting their eyes, sensing the rage emanating from their Master.
Mikhal paused as he stepped through the doorway, barking at one of the minions who shrank back at his tone. “Is the midwife still here?”
“I did not see her leave, My Lord.”
“That wasn’t the question, you fool. Find her and have her sent to my wife’s chamber immediately. Lucian is to come as well. Is that understood?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Do not keep me waiting if you value your life.”
He swept up the grand staircase two steps at a time and down the hall to Alliana’s chambers, kicking the door open with a boom that reverberated throughout the castle. Thalia, who had been pacing nervously in her Mistress’ room, jumped in shock and let out a small scream at the sight of Alliana looking near death in Mikhal’s arms.
“Ring for hot water. She needs to be warmed. Prepare the tub and heat stones to warm her bed.”
“What...?”
“NOW!”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Mikhal watched Thalia for just a moment to see that his orders were being carried out, then gathered Alliana close and carried her before the fire, doing his best to warm her. He had to save her; he had to. He had to give her life and see the fire return to her eyes, even if it took the rest of her days. He would make her happy within these walls he called home, and they would raise their son together, united through their blood bond and the deep love he now knew dwelt in his long dead heart for the small Gypsy woman who had captured him as surely as he’d stolen her away on that fateful night.
Chapter Twenty
Thalia went to speak to the servant boy in the hall and quickly gave him Mikhal’s orders, before gathering the towels and a nightshift, and laying them on the bed. Mikhal sat in the chair near the fire as she worked, barely conscious of the fact that she was there, staring down at Alliana and fighting off the sea
ring pain of her torment. It was washing over him in waves, and tearing at the heart of the man inside.
He rubbed at her arms, then gathered one foot in his large hands and massaged it gently as well, trying to bring some blood back to the frozen extremity. Then, unneeded breath held, he peeled open the makeshift cloak, and pressed her thighs apart, looking for the telltale blood Enid spoke of, that would signal the loss of their child.
A shooting pain, like the blade of a dagger dipped in horror and revulsion, sliced through him as he touched his wife so intimately, and Mikhal froze for a moment, struggling to shoulder the burden of her pain. Then shaking himself, tears that hadn’t been cried in a century dampening his cheeks, he whispered a word of thanks that there had been no crimson streaks marring her pale skin, and quickly covered her again.
Mikhal held her, rocking her gently, doing his best not to invoke the feelings of disgust and terror inside her that would do harm to them both. He was oblivious to the comings and goings of the servants as they brought and filled the tub used for Alliana’s bath. Right now, only his mate and his child mattered. Everything in his world revolved around them.
He looked up, startled, when he heard Thalia’s timid voice calling his name. The maid had stood watching him as the others had gone about their work, mystified by his odd behavior. He was treating Alliana so tenderly. The Master, the chillingly cold and evil Mikhal the Merciless, was whispering soothing sweet words as he rocked her like a child and did his best to comfort and warm her. She’d sworn she’d even heard him tell Alliana he was sorry, though that simply couldn’t be. The evil beast that ruled them all apologized to no one.
Thalia had no idea what had taken place in the hours since her Master had brutally questioned her about the Mistress’ whereabouts and the present, but it must have been something monumental. It was clear that Alliana had run, and that she had been injured during her flight, but the change over the bloodthirsty vampire she called Lord, was something Thalia couldn’t comprehend.
“My Lord, I said the bath is ready.”
“Very good, Thalia.” Again, the servant woman looked at him with shock. His voice had been almost gentle, even to her.
Mikhal rose and strode across the room, coming within inches of Thalia as he did so. When he passed, the feeling of terror that he invoked in the maid hit him hard, and he looked up with surprise, and then quickly looked away. He had to resist the urge to give in to every human emotion that hit him. The maid was still a pitiful human, nothing more, and certainly not worth a second thought. If he allowed himself to pity the servants because he made them cower in horror, the others would see him dust.
Mikhal stripped the torn skirt from around Alliana’s body, then divested her of his shirt as well, and lowered her into the steaming water. Her breath caught in her chest as she gasped, but her eyes remained closed, and her head lolled back. Mikhal cradled it in one hand, feeling the bump on the back of her head for the first time, alarm rising inside him at this new evidence of injury, then began to sponge the hot water over her body with the other, over and over, trying to warm her and bring the color back to her skin and lips.
As he worked, Mikhal fought the raging anguish that Alliana’s hatred and revulsion instilled in him. The fact that her feelings mattered in the least disturbed him greatly. He should be furious at her for running off and endangering their child, he should teach his wayward mate a lesson she would never forget, he should leave her to be cared for by her servant and come back only when he could dole out a suitable punishment, but he couldn’t go. Later, he told himself, he would punish her later, after he was better able to control what was happening to him. The Empathy Spell magnified their blood bond and the connection it had already created between their hearts, and he simply couldn’t hurt her now. Not when she was already in so much emotional pain. He would punish her later.
Mikhal told himself these things as he bathed his wife and paused to stroke her cold, white cheek. When he did, her revulsion again hit him, and he winced at the depth and power of it. The tie between them was pulling at their very beings, harder and harder with each minute that went by. It twisted around his core as her feelings churned inside him, causing the last vestiges of the man he’d been to be at war with the demon who had ruled with free reign for so long.
Each time his fingers touched her skin, her brain screamed to flee the monster that had hurt her and was laying his hands upon her still. Her rejection wounded him, yet made his demon snarl and rage. Mikhal kept it well below his surface now wasn’t the time. He knew it was his fault she felt this way, and allowing his beast to emerge in reaction to her emotions would cause an even wider riff between their hearts.
His beast scoffed at this idea, but the man in him wanted to make Alliana’s suffering stop. The man in him had felt the spark of love for the golden haired girl he’d claimed for his own, and he wanted to instill that same feeling within her heart.
He continued to bathe her and battle that which was raging inside him, over and over, as her pale skin began to regain some of its pink glow, and her hands and feet no longer felt like blocks of ice. He kept on with his task, needing to make her body well, knowing her heart was out of reach, if only for now. He ignored the fear and revulsion that poured from within her, shutting off his heart as best he could, just as he was closing off the demon in him that demanded retribution for the behavior of its wayward mate. Mikhal worked tirelessly, and stood strong, doing what must be done, but when she began crying out, fighting him in her delirium, he was helpless to fight the turmoil battering his heart any longer.
Rising, disgusted with himself that he had hurt her so, his demon equally disgusted that he cared, he moved away from Alliana’s side. He knew it was a foolish notion that she would ever be able to care for him. He also knew that he couldn’t tend to her properly now because his presence was battering her emotionally. Shaking his head in defeat, Mikhal turned to Thalia, who’d been watching mutely, and instructed her to finish Alliana’s bath.
“You are to gently wash her hair. There is a lump upon the back of her skull. She struck it in the stream so be certain you take care. Do it quickly to remove the mud and debris but that is all. I’ll not have her injured further through carelessness.
“When you are finished, keep her in the water to warm her further, but when it begins to cool, send for me at once. I’m going to go see about Enid. She should have been here by now. Do not have my wife moved from the bath before you call for me, is that understood?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“I will lift her out myself. No minions are to come near her. You are the only one who is to tend her.” There was a snarl to his words, a violent and primitive protectiveness shining through loud and clear that made Thalia shiver. The fierce Mikhal the Merciless was lying just beneath the surface, ready to rise up and inflict a horrid punishment if his orders weren’t followed exactly as given. She knew what would happen if she allowed Alliana to be touched by another. He may have appeared gentled, but it was all an illusion.
“I understand, my Lord.”
“Have you placed the warming stones in her bed?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Very good.” Mikhal then looked at the bed again, noting the flimsy night shift that Thalia had laid out for her Mistress.
“She’ll need something much warmer than that. I would think that would be apparent by her condition. Your Mistress saw fit to bathe in the stream.”
“Forgive me, My Lord, there is nothing...”
Mikhal raised an eyebrow, eyes flashing, and then calmed himself. Now wasn’t the time to reprimand an insolent servant. This woman knew more of humans than he did. “What is it? You may speak. I won’t harm you.”
“It’s just Sire... You have never provided the Mistress with anything that isn’t... I mean she doesn’t have...”
“You mean all I have ever given my wife has been scraps of lace and satin?”
“Yes, My Lord.” Thalia’s words were bu
t a whisper, but she went on nonetheless. “During her bed rest, she wore her dressing gowns, but they are thin as well.”
“What would you suggest Thalia?”
“We... Humans wear woolens during the cold months, Sire.”
“See she is brought something suitable, and that more furs are put upon the bed.” Mikhal paused, looking at her intently as Thalia shivered under his gaze. “Tell me, is there anything else you think she might need?”
Thalia couldn’t keep the suspicion from her eyes as she looked at Mikhal. She had been a captive in the castle of Mikhal the Merciless for five years, and never, never had he spoken a kind word to her or shown compassion for another living being. Why just that morning he had inflicted excruciating pain upon her in an effort to get her to reveal her Mistress’s whereabouts.
Why was he acting like this now? Again she wondered what had happened when Alliana had run away. Yes she was hurt and half frozen, and there was the babe to consider, but there had to be something more.
“No, no, My Lord.” The words rushed out quickly, she wanted to be free of him in this unpredictable state. Besides, how could she tell him that what Alliana really needed was to be free of the castle walls? She couldn’t and she wouldn’t dare. She had seen this monster pose as a gentleman before, only to watch his true evil emerge in a flash.
“Very well then. I trust you shall take excellent care of her. See that you do. I shall return with Enid shortly. Continue to bathe her with the warm water.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Mikhal walked over and placed a quick kiss on Alliana’s forehead, bracing himself for the disgust that emanated from her as he did so, and then went off in search of Enid. Where was the midwife who had been his friend for so long? Was she in on the plot to bring him down too? She’d been in the Mage’s chambers when they had been preparing for the spell. He could hardly believe it to be true, but she had been there. As he turned into the hallway, he ran into Lucian, who immediately made a quick bow of submission before rising, and looking him in the eye.
Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Page 26
