Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

left to fight him. He was taking her life’s blood, as if it was impossible to slake his hunger. There was an edge to his feeding, both sexual and dangerous, as if he’d made a decision he would not back away from. The resolve in him ran so deep, so dark, she couldn’t find a way to reach him.
    I already have.
    The words should have reassured her, but they sent another shiver through her body. It was the way he said them, the pure cold glacier that dripped like icicles from his voice. He carried her through to the master bedroom and laid her on the bed, his body covering hers, all the while draining her of her precious blood. She felt herself fading.
    You will stay with me. Come to me, Marguarita. Now. Come to me.
    She was too tired, too weak, to do anything but obey. Her spirit reached for his and he surrounded her, held her to him when her body wanted to slip away into another world she didn’t recognize.
    Only then did he swipe his tongue across the punctures and open his shirt to slash his chest.
    You will feed.
    It was an absolute command. He was in control, her spirit locked to his. His hand caught the back of her head, forcing her to that dark rich Carpathian blood. Her mouth moved against him. This time, he didn’t distance her from the act. The blood flowed into her, his very essence, rushing to do its work, to claim her for all time, to make her his irrevocably. She knew that was uppermost in his mind. This was the consequence of her actions. His claiming her. She struggled to understand. He had tied them together in the way of his people. Why such satisfaction? Why this particular show of dominance?
    Strength was returning, but he held her spirit captive until she had taken enough of his blood that he deemed satisfactory. His body continued to blanket hers as he lifted his head and stared down into her eyes.
    She was missing something. Something important. He looked very expectant. Still cold and distant, but alert and watchful. She touched her tongue to her lip. The split and swelling was gone. Her face didn’t hurt, but there was a new, strange pounding in her head. She could not only hear her heart beating, but feel it, every single movement, the swish of blood, ebbing and flowing. A ripple of pain moved through her body and her stomach lurched.

18
    M arguarita stared at Zacarias with enormous, terrified, accusing eyes. She looked very pale, her dark, silken hair spread out all around them.
    What have you done?
    Zacarias shifted his weight. It was starting then. Her conversion. His blood was working to change her body, reshape her organs, and bring her fully into his world. Satisfaction etched itself into the lines of his face.
    “Never again will I be forced by my own lifemate to lie helpless beneath the ground while she endangers herself deliberately. You have disobeyed me for the last time, Marguarita.”
    His white teeth snapped at her, still slightly lengthened. The flames in his eyes flickered, and still that hot lethal mass of volcanic rage boiled in his gut. Hours, he’d lain beneath the surface, stripped of all power, while she risked her life and his soul. For what? There could be no reason good enough for such a decision on her part.
    He would be forever dishonored. She even knew the truth about him. She had seen his darkest secret, the one he’d protected for centuries—his legacy of darkness. His own father turning vampire moments after his mother’s death. That would have happened to him. If DS had succeeded in killing her, Zacarias would have risen vampire and wiped out the entire ranch.
    “Sun scorch you, woman.” He spat the curse at her, as fury pounded through his veins, breaking through the ice, a volcanic explosion. He couldn’t bear to touch her. Couldn’t stay close to inhale her fragrance. His woman. His lifemate. Betrayer. Risking everything for the childish whim to prove that she was his equal in strength and power. Risking him. Risking them. Risking his brothers and her family.
    He pushed himself off the bed and stalked across the room, a prowling jungle cat, lethal and still very much raging. The tension in the room stretched, but he couldn’t find a way to recapture his icy control. His anger had burned its way through the massive glacier and his emotions were a firestorm raging out of control.
    He had always known he wouldn’t understand a modern woman. He had accepted that his lifemate would never come to him—never accept him as he was. He had been more