Dark Song

by Christine Feehan

  “You are having another panic attack. Breathe. I am not going to leave you on your own until you are ready. Stay still, piŋe sarnanak. Just breathe while we go over a few more rules.”

  She could do that. Rules made her feel safe. She liked rules. He stroked her hair in that soothing way he had, and she found herself following his breathing pattern. She liked that he called her “little songbird.” It sounded a little like an endearment. He wasn’t making fun of her, or taunting her. He seemed only gentle when he could crush her so easily.

  “I know that you are very afraid of Malinov attacking this compound.”

  She gasped at his audacity in naming the master vampire. She even put her fingers up to cover his lips before she could stop herself. It was a terrible transgression, and the moment she did it, she knew she should be punished. She dropped her hand into her lap and bowed her head.

  “I’m sorry. Truly. I shouldn’t have touched you without permission. There is no excuse. Whatever you deem is a fit punishment . . .”

  Ferro caught her hand and returned her fingertips to his lips. “I am your lifemate. You are allowed to touch me when you wish or have need. Sometimes those needs will be for comfort, other times they might be sexual. You might just want to feel close. Whatever the reason, there is no need to ask for permission. I intend to touch you at will.”

  She was confused, frowning at him. “But I belong to you. You have the right to touch me when you desire to do so.”

  He shook his head. “I belong to you as well, Elisabeta, but we are lifemates, not master and prisoner. Not master and slave owner. Not vampire and captive. Those days are over for you. He will not get you back. You have every right to say no. To me or to anyone else.”

  Elisabeta was more confused than ever. Shocked even. She didn’t understand what he was telling her. It sounded so farfetched she was afraid he was trying to trick her. The inevitable panic began to well up and she pushed her fist into her mouth, biting down hard on her knuckles. She didn’t understand anything. The cool earth looked so good to her. She understood the richness, the wealth of the soil. The way it surrounded her body and eased the pain in her joints the tiny cage had caused when she couldn’t exercise properly or get enough blood to sustain her. This world she found herself in now was so foreign to her that she didn’t understand even one small part of it.

  Ferro stroked more caresses in her hair, soothing her. “We are going to start with simple things. Do you remember how to clothe yourself or is this something the vampire insisted he do?”

  That shamed her. “He did if he allowed clothing. He always made decisions.”

  “Do you prefer to wear dresses or trousers?”

  Her heart accelerated. Was it a trick question? What did he prefer? She’d never worn trousers in her life. Not once. She knew Julija wore them, but they looked as if they might be uncomfortable. Would Ferro want her to wear them?

  “Do you want me to wear dresses or trousers?” she countered, trying not to sound as timid as she felt.

  “This is about what you want. There is no right or wrong answer, piŋe sarnanak, only what you would really prefer.”

  She couldn’t possibly choose. There was no way. She hadn’t made a choice in hundreds of years. Not one single choice. She shook her head, refusing to look at him, refusing to answer.

  Elisabeta expected him to be angry, frustrated, to lose patience with her, but his hand continued the gentle strokes in her hair. She realized her long, thick hair—hair that had never been cut—was clean, and as he burrowed his strong fingers into it to massage her scalp, the strands slid through his fingers free of tangles.

  “I prefer dresses, but I am an ancient warrior, Elisabeta, not at all modern. I have not had time to catch up to this world. I do not want to color your choices with my own. Still, if you prefer me to choose for you at this time, I will show you two different dresses that I really like, and you can decide which one to wear this evening and which you will wear next rising. Is that acceptable to you?”

  She would still have to make a choice, but he liked both dresses and, in the end, she would wear both of them. Her only choice was which to wear tonight and which the following rising. The thought of making that decision was still difficult but exciting. It was a decision. Her decision. Ferro was letting her choose.

  “Yes, I like the idea very much,” she agreed.

  “But it is still a little scary to you,” he said.

  Of course he would know. There was no hiding her pounding pulse from him. She bit her lip and nodded slowly, daring to lift her lashes and sneak a peek at his face to see if he was exasperated with her. She wouldn’t blame him if he was. He looked so invincible, as if nothing in the world had ever frightened him. Nothing. How could he sit there so calmly in the middle of the healing grounds, taking his time as if he had nowhere else in the world to be but right there with her, sorting out the terrifying new world she found herself in?

  “When you get very frightened, piŋe sarnanak, always remember that you have only to look into your mind and I am there with you. You can hear our song. It soothes you every rising. The sound of the rain calling to you to awaken. When you hear that, it is our combined heartbeat. No matter even if I am holding you, if you wish to soothe yourself first, our song is there in your mind. I will admit, I prefer to be the one to care for you, but I want you to know that you are capable of standing on your own two feet always. The vampire took that from you, but I intend to give it back to you. You are not without your own power, Elisabeta. You will learn, with time, to believe in yourself. To know you’re strong. I want that for you.”

  She was his lifemate. More, she had spent centuries tuned to the slightest nuance of her master’s voice. His body language. His breathing. “You do want that for me, but you do not want that for you.” It was utterly daring of her to state what she knew to be truth aloud, to basically contradict him. Had she done so with Sergey, it would have earned her such a beating she wouldn’t have been able to move for a month. Maybe she was testing Ferro’s limit. The truth of his rules.

  To her utter astonishment, he nuzzled her shoulder, turning his face into her neck, his breath warm against her wildly pounding pulse. “I am ancient, Elisabeta, and more, I have always thought my woman would obey my every wish. That is what you see in my mind. Having seen what this vile creature has done to my lifemate, I am determined that the two of us will learn more modern ways. We will not be as the others living in this compound, perhaps. We will find our own union, but we will not be as I envisioned long ago, because I no longer want that for either of us.”

  She turned his statement over and over in her mind. He was willing to change. To grow into someone different. She had to find the courage to do the same. She took a deep breath. “I would very much like to see the dresses, um . . .” What was she supposed to call him? How was she supposed to address him?

  “Ferro,” he supplied. “I am your wedded spouse. You will call me Ferro.”

  She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. He was her wedded spouse. He’d said the ritual binding words and there was no going back from that. Not ever. He’d tied them together for all eternity. For whatever the reasons, they were bound together.

  “Say it, piŋe sarnanak, say my name. I wish to hear how it sounds coming from your lips.” His mouth was against her ear, his breath warm, teasing, wreaking havoc with the blood in her veins.

  Elisabeta wasn’t certain she wanted to call him by his given name. “Ferro,” she said softly. “But you call me piŋe sarnanak. I think you are kont o sívanak, strong heart, and this songbird will learn to fly because you have a heart big enough for both of us.” She felt very daring to tell him what she was thinking.

  Deep inside, she was desperate for it to be true. They were lifemates and she could look into his mind, but she wasn’t brave enough for that yet, nor was she strong enough, if he delibera
tely kept her out, to push beyond any shield. She had learned, over the centuries, to do so with Sergey, but subtly, so he was unaware. She had the feeling that Ferro would always be aware.

  His teeth tugged at her earlobe and then released her just as abruptly, but not before the sudden gentle bite caused a spasm in her sex that sent a shock wave through her entire body.

  “Take a look at these dresses. Lorraine, lifemate to my brethren Andor, had several books she called catalogues she allowed me to look through for clothing styles. She has been very helpful.”

  Elisabeta tried not to stiffen at the underlying affectionate note she heard in his voice. Up until that moment, Ferro had little expression in his voice. It was by turns gentle or soft or commanding, but there was definite affection for this woman. Another woman. Not his lifemate. She didn’t like it.

  His hand waved in the air and two dresses floated in front of her. She tried not to gasp, but—well—they were just a little bit formfitting. She had rarely been seen by anyone other than Sergey, and then he had covered her body in shapeless gowns. She’d never worn anything like either one of them. It wasn’t that they wouldn’t cover her adequately—they weren’t low in the front, they went to her ankles, and both had three-quarter-length sleeves—but they weren’t the shapeless, boxy dresses she was used to wearing.

  One was a soft shade of cool forest green with accents of a lighter green in blocks on the bodice and skirt, the material thin and clingy, so she knew it would emphasize her curves. She was thin, and not all that curvy, so maybe her bones would show more than her curves, but it was still a little risqué.

  The second dress was black with gray accents. It was also made of a soft material she’d never seen before. The bodice came to a vee at the waist and the skirt dropped in a series of lacy ruffles to the ankles. It was the bodice that gave her pause or she would have chosen it immediately. She wasn’t certain how comfortable she would be in a dress that clung to her body that closely.

  Ferro didn’t hurry her. He waited patiently. In fact, he seemed more interested in her hair and the nape of her neck than he did the dresses and her dilemma. He kept distracting her with his breath, with his lips moving against her pulse, with the way his fingers on her skin and scalp felt, until she was desperate to stop the unfamiliar feelings he flooded her body with.

  “The black-and-gray one,” she said. “I’ll wear that one.”

  “Excellent choice.”

  His large hands spanned her waist and he lifted her off his lap and to her feet, setting her to one side. When he stood, he was fully clothed. He waved his hand and she found herself in the long black-and-gray dress. The material clung, just as she knew it would.

  “You look beautiful, Elisabeta. Are you used to wearing shoes at all?”

  She looked down at her feet and shook her head. “I was never allowed to leave the cage for any length of time.”

  He waved his hand again. “If these shoes become uncomfortable you are to tell me immediately. That is an order. Am I clear on that?”

  She nodded and looked down at the slipper sandals on her feet. They were black and gray to match the dress she wore. She had no idea what they were made of, but it didn’t feel like stiff leather. Whatever it was, they were comfortable, and she wiggled her toes. His hand brushed hers. She looked up at him expectantly.

  “Take my hand, piŋe sarnanak,” he said. “We’re going to walk around the compound together. I want to show you where everything is and where we’ll be staying.”

  She blinked at him, trying to process what he’d just ordered her to do. What he’d just said. He wanted her to let him take her hand. He was going to walk with her and take her outside the safety of the healing grounds. Outside, where there were people. Walk. When she didn’t know how. She swallowed hard and tried to remember the mechanics. She’d seen it enough times. She was intelligent. She could shuffle along.

  “Ferro . . .”

  He reached for her hand, curling his fingers around hers, bringing her palm to his chest. “You will be with me, Elisabeta, and therefore safe at all times. My brethren will be close, and they will protect you as well. Julija, your friend, is here with her lifemate. Lorraine, my sister-kin, is here and anxious to befriend you.”

  She remained frozen, staring up at him, too terrified to move. He brought her fingers to the warmth of his mouth, his strong teeth scraping the very ends of them, sending spirals of heat dancing through her veins.

  “If you become overwhelmed, just look to me. I will shield you. I am your lifemate, Elisabeta. Everyone we come across, including my brothers, will expect me to be old-world and overbearing.” He showed her his teeth again, this time looking for all the world like a predator. “We can communicate as we did earlier, just the two of us. You tell me what you need, and I will provide it. I do not expect you to suddenly, after centuries of captivity, know how to speak with strangers or handle situations unfamiliar to you. I am proud of you for just choosing to rise and face your lifemate. I am told I am quite intimidating.”

  She glanced up at his face. He was walking her across the healing grounds toward the exit, not striding fast but setting a leisurely pace, enough that she could slide her feet, one in front of the other, not lifting them, her heart beating as if it might fall out of her chest. His tone invited her to find amusement in his statement. She wished she could laugh, but she was too scared. Still, just having him so close gave her courage. Thus far, Ferro had shown her nothing but kindness. She had to believe he would continue to do so.

  2

  A slumber for the ages, hidden within your retreat;

  Awaken from your nightmare, feel the ground beneath your feet.

  Ferro looked down at the top of Elisabeta’s dark, gleaming head of silky hair. He could feel fear coming off of her in waves. His woman was no mouse. She thought herself closed off to him, terrified that he would think she wasn’t worth anything at all to a man as “ferocious” as she thought him. She considered him a true Carpathian warrior and he supposed he was, although he didn’t think much about it. He had passed far too many centuries hunting and destroying vampires. It was simply what he did.

  She had been little more than a child when Sergey Malinov had taken her from her home and placed her in a cage away from the world. Everyone had thought she was dead. Her brother, Traian, had searched for centuries for her, but no trace of her had been found. No one suspected the Malinovs were in any way connected to her disappearance. Sergey had hidden her from his own brothers. Not even they had suspected she existed.

  The little glimpses into the past Ferro had caught in her mind were more than disturbing. They were horrific, and he’d encountered many terrible things in his lifetime. She was so alone and could only rely on the vampire who had taken her prisoner for everything needed to sustain her life. It was no wonder she was terrified to go out into the world.

  Right now, as they paused before stepping from the healing grounds into the actual gardens of the compound where the main house, the lake and the smaller homes were located, he knew the wide-open space, without the bars of her cage, made her feel a little sick and disoriented. He pulled her close to his body, beneath his shoulder, to give her more of a feeling of being surrounded. He locked his arm around her waist while they stood there, just looking over the gardens.

  “It’s really quite beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, to distract her.

  He’d never really noticed the beauty of nature, at least not in centuries. He hadn’t seen in color until he’d heard her voice, that low moaning beneath the healing grounds when she’d called out to try to keep from having to emerge to be fed. Now, the various shades of color on the leaves intrigued him. The blue of the lake, the surface shimmering silver and frost in the moonlight.

  What he really wanted to do was pick her up in his arms, take to the sky and carry her back to the monastery secreted high in the Carpathian Mountains. He
would have no problem telling his beautiful, fractured woman what to do and guiding her gently into the world they would create together, but he was her lifemate and he provided what she needed. She needed to know that she had her own power.

  After centuries of being enslaved by a vampire and treated so cruelly, Elisabeta would never be like Andor’s wife, Lorraine, a very modern woman who Ferro respected and admired but would never be compatible with. He wouldn’t want that. He couldn’t live with that. He was too protective, but he didn’t want Elisabeta to feel fear, not of the world around her and never of him. He would seek every solution possible to figure out a way to help her find what was taken from her—her own power.

  Already a plan had formed in his mind. He’d allowed Elisabeta to stay hidden in the healing grounds longer than was strictly necessary while he thought out his strategy to find a way to empower her. In the beginning, he knew the world around her would be too big for her. After being in such a confined space, just being out in the open would be disorienting and frightening. He would have to go slow, introducing her to small portions of the compound rather than all of it at once.

  Everyone was eager to meet her, but she couldn’t be overwhelmed with too many people. He would have to shield her, although he knew others would misinterpret what he was doing, thinking he was keeping his fragile lifemate from them because he was an ancient and held to the old ways. Opinions didn’t bother him in the least. He was ancient and he did hold to the old ways.

  Ferro also had a strange foreboding. Elisabeta had been given blood by several of the ancients before he had discovered he was her lifemate. That had been an accident. He had heard her moaning. That soft little sound of distress had opened an entire new world for him, but it had also triggered his very sensitive alarms. There was danger stalking his woman—and it wasn’t coming only from the master vampire. He felt a vague threat to her coming from inside the compound. From someone he trusted. Someone who should be protecting her. The threat was so vague, almost as if it wasn’t fully formed, but it was enough to put him on alert.