Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

her with his taller, stronger frame.
    Her hands came up to caress that inquisitive nose. He noticed how, with every stroke of her fingers, she did the same in her mind, brushing her spirit against the horse’s spirit just as lovingly.
    Marguarita reached down, took his hand in hers, and brought it to the mare’s arched neck. His body went still as he felt her press his palm against that warm, smooth neck. For the first time ever in his endless existence, he was actually touching a horse. He had steadfastly refused to control the animals down through the centuries. If they refused to give him allegiance, then he would rather not get near them.
    His hand trembled. His belly knotted. A thousand butterflies took wing. He had been all over the world, sailed the seas, raced through meadows and fields of flowers and had resided in enormous, beautiful caves, yet he had never done such a simple thing as touch a horse. The enormity of what Marguarita was giving to him shook him. What had he done for her? He’d scared her nearly to death and he’d put her life in jeopardy by tying them together.
    Stop, silly. Marguarita rubbed the back of her head against his chest while she slowly stroked his hand over the horse’s neck. You said yourself that I don’t obey very well. Do you think I would do something so life-changing if I wasn’t fully committed? That it wasn’t what I wanted? Stay with me, right here. Be in this moment with me and let everything else go.
    He nuzzled her neck and then bit down gently. “Did you just call me silly? I do not think I have ever, in all my existence, been referred to in such a disrespectful manner.”
    Really? She sent him a smoldering look over her shoulder, one eyebrow arched and mischief sparkling in her eyes. Perhaps others don’t know you in quite the same way I do.
    He bit her again, this time with a little sting so he could bathe her pulse with his tongue.
    Do you want to go for a ride?
    His heart leaped. “On a horse? Do you think one will tolerate me?”
    Do you feel fear from any of them now? They know you the way I know you, spirit to spirit, and they accept you as they do me.
    He was more worried about Marguarita now, not about ruining the moment—Marguarita on the back of a horse, flying over fences at night. A small hole in the ground could cause a misstep and break the horse’s leg, sending her tumbling to the ground. A thousand possibilities crowded into his mind. She had become as essential to him as the rich earth he rejuvenated himself in.
    She leaned her head back against his chest, snuggling into him. I need to ride.
    His first thought was that he didn’t care. Need was a word she didn’t truly understand; he knew what it meant and it wasn’t the dream of riding a horse. Need was elemental. Need was the ability to feel emotion and to feel alive. It was Marguarita forever in his mind, lighting up every shadow, connecting those broken paths so he could feel life running through his body, feel it with every breath he took. He’d forever been damned to a kind of living hell. She’d dragged him out and, by all that was holy, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back there. That was need. True need.
    Zacarias felt her grow still. She didn’t pull away—or protest. He heard her heart accelerate. She had put herself into his keeping, under the rule of a dictator. He knew better than she just how much of a dictator he would be. She made no move to influence him; she simply waited for his decision. A part of him wanted to see her reaction if he denied her. Would she sulk? Argue? Be angry with him and try to retaliate.
    Look into my mind, Zacarias, she offered. I do not go back on my word. I knew this wouldn’t be easy for either of us. I asked a great sacrifice of you. Would I expect less of myself?
    Sun scorch the woman, she was definitely bringing him to his knees. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, threatening to crush her fragile, feminine, human bones. “You are impossible. And you make no sense. If you wish to ride, then you will ride. But Marguarita, if your life is threatened in any way, I will kill whatever threatens you. You will not hold that against me. Do we have an understanding?”
    Her lashes fluttered. She knew what he meant; he could see it in her eyes. She turned to face him, her fingers brushing over his face with the lightest of caresses, but he felt that touch all the way to his very bones, as if she branded him with her name, with her spirit.