Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

a rushing plummet. Tears swam in her eyes.
    Tears had never moved him. In truth, he had never thought about what they meant or why people cried. Sorrow was far removed from his existence, but suddenly, those tears were a knife through his heart, far worse than any vampire ripping through his flesh.
    I’m sorry. I wasn’t prepared for the way it felt. I won’t fight you again.
    She dropped her head just as quickly, but not before he caught the flash of apprehension.
    Zacarias frowned. “Why do you fear my taking your blood? It is natural.”
    He felt her heart jump against him and he kept her locked in the cage of his arms because he needed the reassurance of her heart beating, the warmth and softness of her. He wanted her capitulation, but not like this. His fingers found her chin and tilted it once again, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her eyes searched his, looking for something—reassurance maybe—that he wouldn’t be angry if she told him the truth.
    “Tell me,” he insisted quietly. “Do not fear the truth.” Because he had to know. Understanding her reasoning was as necessary as breathing, which was a strange sensation—to need so much to comprehend why she fought him.
    It took her a few moments to muster the courage to answer him.
    It is not natural to me, the giving of blood in this manner. The vampire tore at my throat close to the spot where you’re taking my blood and I . . . panic. And then you . . .
    He caught the impression of a wild beast attacking her. He hadn’t considered that his taking her blood would be construed as an assault on her. Her entire family knew the Carpathians existed on blood. They were sworn to provide for him, for his brothers and their lifemates.
    “I would not harm you.”
    Her hand crept up to cover the spot on her neck where his mark was the color of a bright strawberry with two distinct impressions of punctures. I know.
    The impression she sent him was mixed. She didn’t know. She didn’t fully comprehend she really was the safest person on the planet. He was her guardian. Her protector. He would see to it that she was safe at all times. Even from herself, which looked to be his biggest job. But first, they had to get past her fears of giving blood.
    “You do not know. You fear me.” Lies between them would not be tolerated, and lying to herself was even worse.
    She swallowed hard and reluctantly nodded, pressing her palm harder against his bite as if it hurt her. His frown deepened. Had he hurt her? There was a natural numbing agent in his saliva, shouldn’t that keep any human from feeling pain in the process? He’d never really interacted as his brothers had with the species other than to take blood, or if he had done so, he remembered none of it. Perhaps he had felt nothing for so long even his memory was faulty. Even the men and women, who for generation after generation had served his family willingly, avoided him—and he them.
    “It hurts you?”
    Her first reaction was to nod, but he saw her expression change. It was her turn to frown as if she couldn’t quite decide.
    “Show me how it feels.”
    She turned her face into his chest and bit him—hard. The pain flashed through him and he cut it off automatically, shocked that she’d dared to do such a thing to him. No one ever put their hands—or teeth—on him. It just wasn’t done.
    “What are you doing, kislány kuηenak —little lunatic?”
    You said to show you. I did.
    A wealth of satisfaction poured off her and he found that strange feeling of happiness—and laughter—welling up out of nowhere as it seemed to do so unexpectedly around her. She bit him and he did find it a little bit funny. “I did not give you permission to bite me. I meant in your head. Show me the feeling of pain.”
    You felt pain when I bit you.
    He stroked his hand down the long fall of silken midnight black hair. Now, even more than before, it was a true black, so shiny he could barely tear his gaze from it. “I do not feel pain.”
    You do. You just don’t allow yourself to acknowledge it. I was connected to you and I felt it.
    His hold on her tightened. What was she doing, putting herself in such a position that she would not only feel her own pain, but his as well? “I do not understand you, Marguarita. You make no sense to me. You fear I will cause you pain and then you deliberately connect to my mind to feel any pain you might cause me. Is that in any way reasonable?”
    Her gaze remained locked for a