He waited, knowing Elisabeta took her time when she answered anything that she felt was very important to him, choosing her words carefully. He would have stopped her, told her he was the one in the wrong, but he had to know how she hid things from him. It couldn’t continue. He had to have access to all parts of her mind. He never wanted her to suffer, or feel bruised and battered. If they were going too fast in her lessons, or she didn’t want to learn to be so modern, they had centuries to learn. He had to know when to stop her. She clearly wasn’t going to tell him.
“I do not understand, Elisabeta. I have full access to your mind, yet I do not see these cells you have hidden. Why?” He was careful to keep a neutral tone. He wasn’t angry with her and didn’t want her to think that he was. This misunderstanding was on him. That didn’t negate the fact that he had to see these hidden compartments and always have access to them in case she was “bruised and battered” again.
“Elisabeta.” He swept his hand gently down the long, thick braid of her hair. “Just the fact that you deliberately kept this part of you safe from the healer meant you not only remembered these compartments hidden from anyone looking, but you wanted them to remain hidden. I understand you hiding them from Gary and even the other ancients. But your lifemate? From me? What is your reasoning?” He kept all reprimand from his voice. He feared he already knew the answer.
She turned her head to look up at him over her shoulder, her dark eyes wide. There was overwhelming emotion in her eyes and his belly did a weird roll. His heart clenched hard in his chest. He was looking at love. Drowning in it. Swamped in it. He felt it surround him. She was both wonderful and terrifying to him. For a moment he was looking into her soul. She was so unbelievably compassionate she was beyond his comprehension. She’d been given to him. Somehow, the universe had entrusted her into his care.
Her long lashes fluttered. She turned her head to stare back at the laughing, joyful men and women, at the children celebrating a hard-won victory she’d been such a big part of.
“You didn’t want me to know.” He said it for her. “You pushed yourself as hard as you could until you were so uncomfortable you could barely take it, and you didn’t want me to know.”
Elisabeta ducked her head.
“You cannot do that,
There was surprising strength in her voice. He had done that. He had given her that strength and confidence. He sighed. “Woman, you make no sense. The things I am concerned about, such as whether or not I am holding you back when I should push you to stand on your own—like tonight, among all the Carpathians who have come to celebrate with us— you stay silent about. But this, when I am adamant, you oppose me.”