Carpathian 17 - Dark Curse

Long strands of black hair began to rain down to pile on top of Lara\'s head, until the long thick strands of midnight black covered every inch of silky red.
    Carpathian hair grew fast, long and thick and luxurious, almost like the pelt of an animal and few ever cut their hair. It was a sacred tradition in their culture and the ancients especially had an aversion to a shorn head.
    Nicolas was no exception. As the chunks of hair fell, he felt sick inside.
    Page 85

    Christine Feehan: Dark Curse
    Lara\'s spirit stirred. Whether she liked it or not she was his life mate and as her distress weighed on him, so did his on her. She pushed deeper into his mind, allowing him to pull her away from the childhood memories.
    Nicolas didn\'t hesitate, treating her sudden capitulation as a gift. He surrounded her spirit and took them fast from the past to the present, understanding completely why the aunts and her father had blocked her memories. He had lived them with her and he was shaky and sick inside.
    Nicolas held Lara in his arms, looking down into her face, breathing for both of them, calling her name softly.
    \"Come back to me, o jelä sielamak . Light of my soul, be with me, Lara.\"
    She blinked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears, exhaustion on her face, mouth trembling, her fingers sliding off his arm when she tried to hold on to him. She lifted her hand and stared, horrified at the blood smearing her palm.

Chapter 9
    Nicolas looked down into Lara\'s opaque eyes. Glass eyes. Unseeing eyes. He had forced her spirit close to the surface-he still surrounded her there refusing to let her go-but she had not committed herself to life. She refused to commit herself to him.
    I cannot blame you, Lara, but I am asking for a second chance. Come back to me.
    She flinched. First her spirit, and then her physical body. She saw him as the enemy, a man who would imprison her and take her blood. Crave her blood. Need it. Hunger after it. The knowledge flooded his mind and as merged as they were, as honest with her as he insisted on being, he couldn\'t deny those things. He would crave her taste. She was his life mate and part of their bonding-a huge part of their lovemaking-was the exchange of blood. It was a reaffirming of the love and commitment to one another, not only of the heart and mind and soul, but the physical life as well.
    He pressed his forehead to hers. We will find a way to satisfy both our needs. We have only to make that commitment.
    He was a man who always was certain of his every move, who knew what to do under any circumstance, yet suddenly he was off balance, uncertain of the right thing to say or do. He had never in his life, even as a boy, felt helpless or vulnerable, he\'d had no way of understanding her at all, or the trauma she\'d dealt with.
    He could hold her as he was doing, rock her gently back and forth, feeling lost. I have no words to make this right.
    She was still, too still. He felt almost desperate. My life was so different from yours. I had parents who were loving, four strong brothers who always had my back. I have always had enormous strength of body and will.
    My skills were superior to many others and, I think, from an early age, I developed a very unflattering arrogance. I was always able to get my way no matter what I wanted .
    He brushed his lips against her eyelids, feeling them flutter, a whisper of movement much like the gentle grazing of a butterfly\'s wings. Was she listening? Did he have a chance of bringing her back to him? Or would she be forever caught in a half-world where he couldn\'t quite reach her?
    I was there with you this time, Lara. I learned what it is like to feel helpless, to feel small and filled with despair.
    There was a small silence. He found himself holding his breath. She was aware of him, she was close-so close Page 86

    Christine Feehan: Dark Curse
    his every instinct was to grab her and jerk her the rest of the way into the land of the living, but he fought that dominant side of his nature and waited as patiently as any hunter.
    There was a stirring in his mind. I did not want that for you . Her lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes.
    Sorrow and guilt mixed with fear. Her gaze drifted over his face and then up to his hair. Her body jerked as if struck.
    Nicolas looked down at himself. He was covered in blood from the whip marks and gouges, and his ribs were bruised from the kicking. There were wounds on his wrists, deep punctures and gaping