Carpathian 16 - Dark Demon

sinking deeper and deeper the more she struggled against him. Vikirnoff said nothing. All the while he lay simply watching her, propped up on one elbow, his gaze never leaving her face. She was beginning to hate his eyes. That black, fierce gaze, so intense and so hungry for her.
    His eyes drew her like nothing else ever had—or would. No matter how much she told herself it was wrong, it was a betrayal, she was still drawn to him. Mesmerized by him. In lust with him. And it wasn't natural. It couldn't be .
    Her inability to break his hold on her fed her temper. "I certainly have no duty to you.
    You have such gall to even suggest it."
    "You cannot deny you are my lifemate. Our souls call to one another." His voice softened to a mesmerizing cadence. "Give yourself a little time, Natalya. You will get used to the idea. All of this will work out as it is meant."
    She shoved the knife back into the scabbard, her hand shaking. He was seducing her with his eyes and his voice. How could she be so susceptible? She needed armor. How could she be so confused and raw and edgy? She was never like this and yet she didn't seem to have any control over her emotions.
    "I want to smother you with a pillow," she lied, hoping to draw a response she could work with. "I can't believe you. No one could ever stand being your lifemate." She could rage all she wanted but he knew he was pulling her in. She closed her eyes and allowed truth to pour out. "I will never be your lifemate. You killed my brother. My twin. The only person in this world that meant anything to me. Do you think for one moment that I'd save you, let alone have anything to do with you?"
    Vikirnoff was silent, touching her memories lightly, seeing the man she loved, feeling her love for him. He shook his head. "I did not kill this man. I have no memory of his face and I remember each of the men I had to destroy."
    She turned away from him. To her horror, the tears she'd been fighting blurred her vision.
    The humiliation was unbearable. Her heart twisted with pain at the thought of her brother's death. "Not you, personally, but a hunter. One of your kind."
    "Why would a hunter take the life of your brother?"
    There was no inflection in his voice. He wasn't calling her a liar, nor was he admitting such a thing could have occurred. He merely looked at her with his intense black eyes, his face etched with pain and it tore her insides out.
    Natalya jerked the leather away from her abdomen to reveal the birthmark that had condemned her brother to death. "I have the same mark. You can't be my lifemate when I bear this mark. It's a death sentence. All hunters will kill us immediately when they see the mark of the wizard on our skin." There was defiance in her voice, expectation in her eyes.
    She meant to shock him and readied herself for his attack on her.
    Vikirnoff stared at the intricate dragon, low on her left side. He let out his breath slowly.
    "That is no mark of the wizard, Natalya. That is the birthmark of one of the oldest and most respected of Carpathian families. That mark is Dragonseeker. No hunter would kill a man or woman marked as Dragonseeker. It is not possible."
    Her chin went up. "Are you calling me a liar?"

    Vikirnoff didn't answer her verbally. He invaded her mind. He gave her no warning and no time to stop him, pushing past her barriers so that he shared her life, the love of her brother, his laughter, his caring, the way the two of them were forced to live, hiding and running from place to place, always ahead of the enemy.
    Natalya didn't take the merging lightly. She tried to fight him off, to put up blocks, but there was a ruthless quality to Vikirnoff. He pushed further, uniting them together until he saw what he was looking for. She hated the invasion of her mind. To her, it was almost worse than if he had invaded her body. She lifted her hands and gracefully sketched symbols in the air between them, an attempt at erecting a shield to protect her memories, her thoughts, the very essence of who and what she was from him.
    The symbols burned brightly in the air for a brief moment, orange and yellow and gold, then slowly faded, leaving her vulnerable.
    Her resistance to their merging surprised Vikirnoff, but he ignored it, intent on finding the memories that had shaped Natalya's distrust of Carpathians.
    Natalya's grief over the death of her twin was wild and without end. Totally immeasurable. It was still as sharp-edged and painful as the day she had