Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

Solange to even mark. She realized something inside her had died that day, something she could never get back. She trained daily after that to become what she was now—a killer. She had fueled her rage to keep herself going every single day.

    But Solange was no more. They had killed her that hot afternoon, just as surely as they killed her mother.
    She was alone. No one could possibly understand the change that had taken place in her that day. She had made a vow, sworn over the blood of her mother and then again, when she’d made her pilgrimage back to her village, sworn over the rest of her family—she would not turn her back on the other women who needed her. She would remain alone.

    Fél ku kuuluaak sívam bels — beloved. The voice moved in her head. Soft. Tender even. You are not alone anymore. I see you. I hear your screams and I share your anguish.

    Solange heard the ring of truth in Dominic’s voice. He had shared her memories. As violent and vivid as they were, every detail etched forever into her mind, she had disturbed his sleep, pressing those memories into him without her knowledge. His own beloved sister and her lifemate had been ripped from him. He had spent several lifetimes trying to find her, only to discover she had long ago been tortured and killed.
    Yes, he did know the anguish and sorrow inside of her, the slow death of everything good.

    She pushed the comforter against her mouth, still rocking slowly. If she looked there in the darkness, she would see him with her cat’s eyes, but she didn’t want to look at death, see him lying so still without a heartbeat, without breath, not when the death of her mother was so close. She couldn’t bear to see him that way. Not now. Not with the past so near and her life closing in around her.

    Not death, avio päläfertiil —lifemate. The earth holds me in her arms and heals me. She gives me sustenance in her way. This is life, just a different version than you know.

    “I have to go outside and just breathe.” She couldn’t sleep. She needed to lose herself in her cat, to prowl the rain forest and look for— him .

    I do not think so, little cat. If you must shift, of course you should do so, particularly if it eases your mind, but you cannot go out hunting him in your present state of mind. You would be killed. You are seeking death.

    “That might be true,” she said, willing only to admit the possibility that he might be right about her seeking death. “But sadly for you, you’re lying there dead or not dead, and can do nothing to stop me.”

    Amusement filled her mind. I am an ancient Carpathian, minan , and far more powerful than you can conceive. I am your lifemate and it is my duty to see to your health. Do not think because I am gentle with you, that I do not have the ability to take care of your needs.

    Had anyone else said those words to her, Solange would have scoffed at them, but Dominic was Carpathian, and she had seen and felt his power. And he had some sort of power over her. One she didn’t quite understand.

    You may of course try, Solange, but your doing so would be going against my wishes and you would disappoint me. Again there was no judgment in his voice, no anger. He simply waited for her to make her decision.

    Her heart clenched hard in her chest. The pain was so real she pressed the comforter clutched tightly in her fists to her aching heart and then dropped her face into the soothing material. She wasn’t weeping. She was in human form.

    His arm moved. She felt it. He touched her hair and she sensed the tremendous effort he made. I have never had the pleasure of lying beside a jaguar.

    That was all. A simple sentence, but Solange closed her eyes, grateful for something—anything—she could do to push the memories further away. She took a breath and forced herself to look at him.

    He was so beautiful. Every muscle carefully crafted, and the thickness of his arms and chest made her feel small in comparison—almost feminine. She leaned over him, her breasts brushing his chest, nearly crawling on him in order to study his face. His eyes were closed, but she sensed that he saw her. Maybe he was only in her mind, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt to her as if his power filled the chamber and surrounded her with warmth, with acceptance.

    He didn’t think less of her because she wept. Or raged. Or killed. He accepted everything about her. She doubted he would think less of her if she tried to leave,