“The scandalous one?” She tilted her head to look up at him, a hint of laughter in her dark eyes.
He couldn’t help his answering grin. The dress could be scandalous if they were alone. Only if they were alone and his fingers were busy on the corset, pulling the laces free so her breasts spilled into his hands. “Yes, that is the one I think would be perfect for a celebration. The material is soft and drapes well on your body. You will look beautiful.”
She laughed, rolled over and nipped at his chin with her teeth. “You will be thinking about those laces the entire time we are at this celebration.”
That might be true, but he hoped she would be distracted enough to get her through when she saw the number of Carpathians concentrated in a small area. Already she was shifting, a little screech owl, wings outspread, flying into the night. He was after her, the male owl smaller, lighter and much faster. He kept pace, alert for any danger to her as they covered the distance to the compound.
The two owls circled above the party below them before slowly beginning a spiraling descent into the shadows of the garden just beside the healing grounds. When Elisabeta emerged in her true form, wearing the long forest-green dress with the tight corset of crisscross cords over her breasts, she turned and gave him a look of pure reprimand.
“You knew what this would be like.”
He couldn’t deny it. He took her hand and walked her to the very edge of the garden and then wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his body to shelter her. “We had our time this rising together, and I knew I could not be so selfish as to keep you from seeing the celebration the others are having.”
The music was beautiful, rising to the night sky, the band playing instruments and couples dancing. Others talked and laughed together while children ran around, sometimes dancing and other times pretending to fight an enemy. The little girls somehow had gotten hold of sparkles and glitter and were generously dousing the ground, flowers, people and everything in sight.
Josef came into view, several older children following him, each armed with buckets of glitter on their belts and some kind of weapon they had tied to their backs in easy reach. It wasn’t hard to see that he was the instigator.
I do love to see the children playing like this, Ferro, but sooner or later, someone will insist I talk to them, and I just can’t do it yet. She spoke on their much more intimate pathway. When so many are around I feel too exposed.
Ferro kept his arms around Elisabeta’s waist, holding her tight. “You are doing just fine, minan piŋe sarnanak. As you can see, most of the Carpathians are coming together either for the first time or getting reacquainted. No one is going to notice or be upset if I do the talking for us. I do wonder what Josef is up to with all this colored glitter. It looks as if these children are up to something.” Now the children were all gathered around the stone dragons in the middle of the courtyard.
He was just a little too pleased that she still preferred him to talk for her in a crowd. He wasn’t certain he liked that trait in himself, the one that wanted her a little reliant on him.
I will always like to have you close to me, Ferro. It is my nature. That does not make me less empowered.
Her voice brushed gently through his mind, her soothing fragrance surrounding him, there in the midst of so many other scents. He heard the sound of children laughing and watched as Tariq’s oldest boy, Danny, bent to lift Darius and Tempest’s son, Andor, in front of him onto his brown stone dragon’s back. The boy slipped up behind him and waited while Amelia put Andor’s twin sister, Aniko, on her orange dragon. The two teenagers whispered to the twins and then to their dragons.
“I want you to continue to grow in confidence, Elisabeta,” Ferro said. “Do you see Danny and Amelia? The way they are with those children? Darius and Tempest are part of the Dark Troubadours. Whenever I watch the children in any village, they are like these, ready to teach, to entertain, to always share what they have with the little ones. They help with their confidence and self-esteem. They give them knowledge, even in play.”
The way you share your knowledge with Josef to help him feel as if he can become a great hunter of the vampire when his time comes.
She wasn’t understanding what he was trying to say. She wouldn’t, because she was so caring and compassionate and it wouldn’t occur to her that he was in any way holding her back.
“Elisabeta, I am sometimes pulled in two directions,” he confessed reluctantly. “You have a giving, loving nature. I do not want to take unfair advantage of you. If I do so, I do it without realizing that I’m doing so. I confess I like you to rely on me, but by encouraging that behavior rather than insisting you speak with others I am only hampering your independence. I do not want that for you.” That was both true and not. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to find the right way to express his feelings honestly.
He wanted to be her anchor. He liked the intimacy of their merged minds when it was only the two of them speaking together, when she looked just to him. On the other hand, he wanted the world for her. The world meant she needed to come wholly into herself as a woman capable of standing on her own feet.
“I want you to always feel as if you are a fully confident woman. Fully capable in your own right of doing anything you feel you wish to do. You will never reach that if I keep you dependent on me as Sergey did.”
That was one of the most difficult, painful confessions he had to make to her. It hurt. He was grateful he was standing behind her, not looking into her eyes. He didn’t like to feel as if he were letting her down in any way, or that he was falling short of what a true partner should be. He was feeling his way with her, still trying to find a balance of letting go and holding her close when she needed it.
Love swamped him, slipped gently into his mind, a warmth beyond anything he’d known, filling him up until there was only Elisabeta and her sweet serenity. Her fragrance was in his mind, that soothing tranquility she projected when she merged with him, when they simply talked intimately. He never wanted to give that up.
You have always encouraged me, Ferro. You opened the door to my cage that very first rising and since have been giving me the tools I needed to learn to fly on my own. I appreciate you so much. I do.
He nuzzled the top of her head, his heart hurting. Pounding with love for her. Swelling with pride. He was a warrior, a skilled hunter, and he couldn’t conceive of the courage it took to face the challenges she faced each rising.
I will always be me, she continued. I will always have the kind of nature I have. It is possible, even probable, the centuries as a prisoner added to my natural sensitivity. I developed certain skills, honed them much more than I might have had I not been locked up. I feel things very deeply and sometimes cannot turn that off. You shield me when I cannot do so. You are my shelter. My refuge. I count on you and retreat when I know I cannot take any more bruising.
“Any more bruising?” He didn’t like the sound of that. He went very still inside. Had he pushed her too hard? Was he guilty of listening to the voices around him instead of being in tune with his lifemate’s needs? “What do you mean, Elisabeta? Am I not taking proper care of you? You promised me you would always tell me if you were upset with anything.”
I do push myself, Ferro. I do because I want to be strong and always stand with you as your partner. It does not upset me to do that, but it does feel as if sometimes I am battered and cannot even look at my surroundings one more moment.
“Elisabeta.” He breathed her name. With reverence. With regret. How could he not see her struggle? He was merged with her, yet he had not known.
He stood in the shadows of the courtyard while around them the music of the Dark Troubadours played, the hauntingly beautiful voice of their singer, Desari, floating into the air, touching all within hearing distance. She had a gift, and yet in that moment, Ferro could hear only what his woman had admitted to him. How
had he not known?
He was used to the wild country. The mountains and forests, not the cities with houses and so many people. His instincts were honed beyond even the majority of the Carpathians’ greatest hunters, yet his own lifemate, a gentle, compassionate woman, suffered because he hadn’t been able to see her pain. That was unconscionable. Unacceptable.
He had gone to the monastery when he had proven to be too dangerous even to his own kind. The mists had surrounded him when he was in those thick walls, behind the heavy gates, but that protection had enhanced his instincts, not diminished them.
“How could I not know you were struggling, sívamet? How could you not share this with me? You had to have found a way to hide this from your lifemate.”
He found himself hurt—and that was a rare and unfamiliar emotion,as was the anger that mixed with it. “Omission is dishonesty, Elisabeta. By your omitting what was happening to you, I was unable to take proper care of you. How did you hide this from me?” He poured demand into his voice, and for the first time he truly didn’t care if he sounded too much like a dominant, demanding male.
She was silent for a long moment while he worked at breathing in and out of his lungs in a deep, natural pattern. He kept his heartbeat steady. He didn’t tighten his hands or his arms on her when he wanted to crush her to him. She needed him to be calm for her. Fine tremors went through her body, all too reminiscent of when she first had risen to his beckoning song.
She had come a long way in a short time, but truthfully, he had expected too much from her. Everyone had. She had risen to the occasion because he had asked it of her. Ferro nearly groaned aloud. Desari’s voice, so hauntingly beautiful, filled the night sky. The sound of the children’s delighted laughter added to the beauty of the evening. His woman stood at the edge of the courtyard with a virtual crowd moving around her. Men and women dancing, dragons in the air, wheeling and dipping as their riders gave the young children a thrill. This was all new to his woman and yet she was expected to participate.
He waited, knowing Elisabeta took her time when she answered anything that she felt was very important to him, choosing her words carefully. He would have stopped her, told her he was the one in the wrong, but he had to know how she hid things from him. It couldn’t continue. He had to have access to all parts of her mind. He never wanted her to suffer, or feel bruised and battered. If they were going too fast in her lessons, or she didn’t want to learn to be so modern, they had centuries to learn. He had to know when to stop her. She clearly wasn’t going to tell him.
I am very sorry, Ferro. I have been alone for so long and had to be so careful of my thoughts that it is automatic for me to compartmentalize. I think of my mind like a beehive and place different thoughts in these little cells. I do not hide things from you on purpose. I would not do that. I turn to you when I know I cannot take any more.
“I do not understand, Elisabeta. I have full access to your mind, yet I do not see these cells you have hidden. Why?” He was careful to keep a neutral tone. He wasn’t angry with her and didn’t want her to think that he was. This misunderstanding was on him. That didn’t negate the fact that he had to see these hidden compartments and always have access to them in case she was “bruised and battered” again.
I had to keep Sergey from seeing into the places of my mind I didn’t want him to see. The same with any of his brothers or cousins, just in case one found out about me. I hid the tiny cells in the walls so they appeared perfectly normal, as if they were part of the structure of my mind. I had centuries to perfect the images and to keep them from ever being given away. Even the healer did not discover them when he repeatedly inspected my mind. There was a hint of satisfaction in her voice.
“Elisabeta.” He swept his hand gently down the long, thick braid of her hair. “Just the fact that you deliberately kept this part of you safe from the healer meant you not only remembered these compartments hidden from anyone looking, but you wanted them to remain hidden. I understand you hiding them from Gary and even the other ancients. But your lifemate? From me? What is your reasoning?” He kept all reprimand from his voice. He feared he already knew the answer.
She turned her head to look up at him over her shoulder, her dark eyes wide. There was overwhelming emotion in her eyes and his belly did a weird roll. His heart clenched hard in his chest. He was looking at love. Drowning in it. Swamped in it. He felt it surround him. She was both wonderful and terrifying to him. For a moment he was looking into her soul. She was so unbelievably compassionate she was beyond his comprehension. She’d been given to him. Somehow, the universe had entrusted her into his care.
Her long lashes fluttered. She turned her head to stare back at the laughing, joyful men and women, at the children celebrating a hard-won victory she’d been such a big part of.
“You didn’t want me to know.” He said it for her. “You pushed yourself as hard as you could until you were so uncomfortable you could barely take it, and you didn’t want me to know.”
Elisabeta ducked her head. You hurt inside, Ferro. When you think you are not shielding me enough, you hurt inside. When you do shield me, you compare yourself to the vampire. There is no winning for you. I do not like it.
“You cannot do that, piŋe sarnanak,” he reprimanded.
I have every right to take care of you, Ferro. You are my lifemate.
There was surprising strength in her voice. He had done that. He had given her that strength and confidence. He sighed. “Woman, you make no sense. The things I am concerned about, such as whether or not I am holding you back when I should push you to stand on your own—like tonight, among all the Carpathians who have come to celebrate with us—you stay silent about. But this, when I am adamant, you oppose me.”
Not oppose, Ferro, she denied, her voice and mind soft. I will discuss that more with you, but tonight . . . I have given this much thought. Lorraine and Julija are both very powerful women in different ways. They express that power differently. Because they express it differently does not take away from either of them. The way I choose to express my power will not take away from what or who I am.
“That is true, sívamet. You are an extremely powerful Carpathian.”
I cannot be anything but who I am. My nature is not like either Julija’s or Lorraine’s, and although I admire both of them, I am fine with who I am, thanks to you. I will most likely be uncomfortable around many people and I accept that, again, thanks to you. The point I am making, Ferro, is crawling into your mind and hiding away is where I need to be sometimes. It is where I feel safest. You are not forcing me to go there. You are not holding me prisoner or keeping me dependent. I try to hold out because I think it is what you want for me and I even know it is good for me, but it is not always what I want.
He shook his head, dropping his hand to her neck, beginning a slow massage, not really for her, but because he had to do something. Anything. She was killing him. She tried to hold out as long as she could, waiting until she felt bruised and battered, and then hiding that from him in the little compartments in her mind so he wouldn’t feel bad.
“You are not going to do that anymore. We are making a new rule. You do not hide anything from me, even if you think it will upset me. Is that understood, piŋe sarnanak?”
Yes, Ferro. She answered immediately, no hesitation, which meant she would obey him.
He bent his head to brush a kiss along her earlobe. “You will allow me access to all parts of your mind. Every hidden little cubicle.”
He felt her reluctance. How can I protect you?
He bit her earlobe in sheer frustration. I protect you.
Should it not go both ways?
There was genuine confusion in her voice and that touched his heart. It was impossible not to want to sweep her into his arms and carry her off where he could be alone with her.
“Yes, but not at the expense of your health. You are never to p
ush yourself to the point of feeling bruised or battered or where you think you have to hide how it is affecting you from me. We need to be able to communicate, Elisabeta. I know that expressing your feelings is difficult at times for you, but it is necessary.”
She was silent for a few moments and then she capitulated. Then yes, Ferro, I agree. I will make certain you know where all the various walls I put up with the little cells on them are so you have access to any information I accidentally store there.
“Thank you, Elisabeta. Traian and Joie are making their way over to us. Are you good with that? I can get us out of here.”
He felt her straighten. Again, she tilted her head back and gave him a smile meant only for him. It was genuine, lighting her eyes. “I can talk to them for a few minutes.”
Her heart had begun to accelerate and he gently slid his hand down the length of her arm to her wrist, rubbing his thumb over her pounding pulse to remind her to match the steadier beat of his.
“Traian, Joie,” he greeted. “I see you both remember how to dance.”
“Barely,” Traian admitted. “It’s all Joie. She has to keep the steps in her mind and I just do what she tells me. She makes me look good.”
Joie burst out laughing. “That’s not true. He’s a really good dancer. Very smooth. Tariq is good, too. Did you see him with Charlotte?”
Ferro answered for them, sparing Elisabeta every chance he could, while she nodded and smiled, her fingers digging into his arm. “It was impossible not to notice. I think everyone watched them. I suppose that is why he owns a nightclub.”
Traian flashed a little smile at his sister. “Who would have thought, Elisabeta, that a Carpathian would own a nightclub someday? If they had told us that when we were children . . .”
Dark Song Page 43
