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He would know her by scent alone as well. She came into his mind slowly, drifting in like a soothing breeze, her fragrance so subtle but distinct, rare camellias, Italian bergamot, that hint of orange and lime, sandalwood and vetiver, the mixture almost elusive and yet lingering. Her skin held that same faint scent. Even her taste had hints of those flavors.

“When you would merge with others to rid them of the infection and I would be with you in their minds, I could feel you cleanse them with that soothing serenity, that peace and compassion that is so much a part of you, but also there was always your fragrance. Your scent clings to your skin. It is in your mind, Elisabeta, so deep in you that when you are in my mind or in another’s I can catch your scent. I think that is a good part of the way you soothe the ancients.”

He rubbed his chin over the top of her head, not wanting her to look into his eyes and see that he might not like sharing that part of her with anyone. In ancient times, many Carpathians didn’t allow others near their lifemates because it could be dangerous if those warriors turned vampire. He understood that concept. He would have been one of those men. Now, he wanted to carry her off somewhere they would be alone without interruption from all the demands the Carpathian world seemed to put on them.

“I prefer always to be with just you, Ferro,” she admitted.

The notes of truth in her voice slipped into his mind and lodged there, reassuring him. When she had first awoken, he had worked to be her light in the darkness; now she was his bright star. He tipped her face up to his and kissed her. The moment he did, he tasted passion. Love. A mixture of both.

The burn came slow, easy, a decadent lazy heat that swept through his veins, sped through hers, picking up speed as kisses grew passionate and hotter. Until the fire became a storm of emotion.

Ferro took his time worshipping her. Showing her how much she meant to him. Elisabeta was meticulous in answering him back, her hands and mouth moving over his body with equal loving. Whispers and laughter, the sound of bodies coming together and soft cries of passion rose long into the night.

With Elisabeta snuggled in his arms, looking up at the stars through the gently swaying canopy of trees, Ferro reminded her that there was a big celebration going on and it was expected that they make an appearance. It didn’t have to be a long one, but they should go.

“You have gotten so good at flying and clothing yourself, I thought you could fly to the compound from here and dress yourself in that beautiful green gown you know I love. I put it in your mind a couple of times.” Deliberately, he enticed her with flying. She was feeling very sated and loving, her hands sliding over his chest and hip very possessively.

“The scandalous one?” She tilted her head to look up at him, a hint of laughter in her dark eyes.

He couldn’t help his answering grin. The dress could be scandalous if they were alone. Only if they were alone and his fingers were busy on the corset, pulling the laces free so her breasts spilled into his hands. “Yes, that is the one I think would be perfect for a celebration. The material is soft and drapes well on your body. You will look beautiful.”

She laughed, rolled over and nipped at his chin with her teeth. “You will be thinking about those laces the entire time we are at this celebration.”

That might be true, but he hoped she would be distracted enough to get her through when she saw the number of Carpathians concentrated in a small area. Already she was shifting, a little screech owl, wings outspread, flying into the night. He was after her, the male owl smaller, lighter and much faster. He kept pace, alert for any danger to her as they covered the distance to the compound.

The two owls circled above the party below them before slowly beginning a spiraling descent into the shadows of the garden just beside the healing grounds. When Elisabeta emerged in her true form, wearing the long forest-green dress with the tight corset of crisscross cords over her breasts, she turned and gave him a look of pure reprimand.

“You knew what this would be like.”

He couldn’t deny it. He took her hand and walked her to the very edge of the garden and then wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his body to shelter her. “We had our time this rising together, and I knew I could not be so selfish as to keep you from seeing the celebration the others are having.”

The music was beautiful, rising to the night sky, the band playing instruments and couples dancing. Others talked and laughed together while children ran around, sometimes dancing and other times pretending to fight an enemy. The little girls somehow had gotten hold of sparkles and glitter and were generously dousing the ground, flowers, people and everything in sight.

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Dark Song
Dark Song

Two Carpathians find hope in the bond that ties their souls in this passionate novel in Christine Feehan's #1 New York Times bestselling series.Stolen from her home at a young age and tormented for centuries, Elisabeta Trigovise is scared to show herself to anyone. Even though she has been rescued and is now safe within the Carpathian compound, she has lived in fear for so long she has no idea how to survive without it. She wants to answer the siren call of her lifemate--but the very thought terrifies her.Before he found Elisabeta, Ferro Arany was an ancient warrior without emotion. Now that his senses have come alive, he knows it will take more than kind words and soft touches to convince the fractured woman that they are partners, not master and prisoner. For now, he will give her his strength until she finds hers, allowing the steady rhythm of his heart to soothe Elisabeta's fragile soul.But even as she learns to stand on her own, the vampire who kept her captive is desperate to claim her again, threatening the song Elisabeta and Ferro are writing together.Praise for Christine Feehan: 'After Bram Stoker, Anne Rice and Joss Whedon, Christine Feehan is the person most credited with popularizing the neck gripper' Time'Feehan has a knack for bringing vampiric Carpathians to vivid, virile life in her Dark Carpathian novels' Publishers Weekly'The erotic, gripping series that's defined an entire genre! Must reading that always satisfies!' J.R. Ward'The queen of paranormal romance' USA Today

Кристин Фихан

Любовное фэнтези, любовно-фантастические романы

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