Carpathian 02 - Dark Desire

changed.
    Everything has changed. These people are your family. She tried to take a deep, calming breath.
    Jacques, I was your doctor, nothing more. I don't belong here. I don't know how to live like this.
    You are my lifemate. The words were firm in her head. You are tired, my love, tired and afraid. You have every right to be. I know that. I know I frightened you, but you belong with me. He did his best to keep his voice a soft whisper of sense, but it was difficult with the beast rising and the fragments in his brain confusing him.
    She lay looking up at his strong, harsh, uncompromising features, the warning in his furious eyes. I don't even know what it means to be your lifemate, Jacques. You know I want the best for you, I want you well and whole again, but I can't be with all these people. I need time to sort out what's happened here. What I am. I can hardly breathe right now, let alone think things through.
    She was telling the truth. Merged as he was with her, Jacques could feel the familiar pattern in her brain, her intellect leaping forward to protect her from any overwhelming emotion. She was too tired and drained to succeed at her attempt. He struggled once again to reassure her. You are my lifemate. It means we belong together, never apart.
    She shook her head adamantly. "No way." Her enormous eyes jumped to the others. All at once they looked sinister, beings too powerful for their own good. "I want to leave this place." It was somewhere between a demand and a plea for help. Instinctively she looked toward Mikhail. His fingerprints were on her swollen throat. She had saved his brother's life. He owed her.
    Raven tightened her fingers around Mikhail's, feeling his tension, his indecision. Clearly the woman was asking for help, and Mikhail could do no other than offer his protection. But Jacques was already warning them off, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He sensed Shea was looking to the others for assistance, and it triggered his predatory instincts. At once he was dangerous, violence swirling close to the surface, aggressive toward Shea, clearly demanding submission.
    Byron nearly leapt forward, but a show of Jacques' gleaming fangs held him motionless. He glared at Mikhail. "I told you she had not chosen. Take her from him. She must be protected." Hope was shining in his eyes.
    "Jacques." Gregori's voice was pure black velvet, a caressing, compelling tone impossible to ignore.
    "The woman is overwhelmed. She needs rest, a healing sleep. Both of you should go to earth."
    Shea's heart nearly stopped. She shoved hard at Jacques' immovable chest, caught the picture of the earth opening, accepting them. Buried alive. A scream of alarm caught in her throat. She flung herself off the bed in an attempt to get away.

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    Jacques caught both fragile wrists, pinned her to the mattress. Do not fight me, Shea, there is no way to win. Jacques struggled to stay in control. Shea was trembling, her mind filled with fear of him and what he was, what he represented. The loss of freedom, the horror of being a vampire preying on human victims for sustenance as portrayed in old novels, the terror of ever needing a man the way her mother had—to survive.
    "Take her from him," Byron demanded.
    Jacques turned his head, eyes glittering like black ice. His voice was hoarse, a growling representation of his long-silent vocal cords. He made a supreme effort to stay in control for Shea's sake. She had been there for him; he had to do the same for her. "No one will take her from me and live."
    There was no doubt he meant it. Shea lay shocked, unable to absorb that he had spoken aloud. There would be a bloody war here, and someone would die. Please, Jacques, please let me go. I can't live like this. There were tears in her eyes, tears in his heart.
    Jacques tried to reach her, calm her with his mind, but she was panic-stricken, too petrified to think.
    "Send her to sleep. She is weak and worn. You must care for her health." Gregori's voice was always the same, as pure as the sound of crystal-clear water running over rocks.
    "No!" Gregori frightened her more than anything. She was always in control. Always. No one had ever taken her decisions out her hands, not even her mother. She just needed to be alone, have time to think.
    Shea struggled in desperation against Jacques' hold "Let me go!"
    The purity of Gregori's voice was finding threads of