Dark Song

She had been befriended by a woman, Julija, a strong woman who walked her own path, walked beside her lifemate and made her own decisions. Elisabeta had dared to defy Sergey and secretly talked with her. She wanted to be strong like her but knew she never would be. Hundreds of years of captivity and silence, of having someone telling her what to do, of punishments and fear, had shaped her into this terrified being she had come to despise. She no longer knew who she was or what she was, only that she had no purpose, and she was so tired of being afraid.

She stayed very still and remained silent, terrified of being tricked. She kept her eyes closed tightly, even with the ground above her open, afraid of seeing where she was. She hadn’t been out of a cage in hundreds of years. Open spaces made her feel sick and disoriented. She didn’t know how to process space.

Speak to me, lifemate.

Her heart sank. That was a direct order. The first he had ever given to her. It mattered little that his voice was so different from Sergey’s. He was her master and could torture her, deprive her of food, kill others in front of her. Her heart pounded out of control. What would you have me say?

There was a small silence that terrified her even more. Had she angered him? She really didn’t know what he wanted from her.

Elisabeta, listen to my heartbeat. You are panicking for no reason. We are merely having a conversation. Breathe with me. Listen to my heartbeat and follow with yours.

She made the mistake of lifting her lashes, just for a second. Surrounding her, she could see what appeared to be balconies where people could stand and look down onto the healing grounds where she lay. They could see her. Full-blown panic had taken hold and she couldn’t find air. Her body nearly convulsed. She tried to curl into the fetal position, to sink deeper into the healing soil, allowing the rich minerals to blanket her body and hide her from any prying eyes.

She sank into waiting arms. Strong arms. She had always fantasized about being held when she needed it most. She longed for human contact—was often desperate for it—and now, somehow, she had made her fantasy so real she felt a very hard male body surrounding hers, holding her safe. With her eyes closed tight, she felt him surround her with his warmth, his heat. His breath was in her ear, his chest rising and falling behind her back.

Breathe with me, piŋe sarnanak, follow the rhythm of my heart.

Her heart tuned almost automatically to his, before she could do so intentionally. The breath moved in and out of her starving lungs, pulling air into her. The air smelled of rain, of rich soil and unexpectedly of juniper and allspice mixed together. He had called her “little songbird.” That didn’t seem so bad, an endearment in the ancient Carpathian language. Her heart stuttered a little at the gentleness in the way he treated her.

That’s good, Elisabeta. Now tell me, while you feel safe, what is your greatest fear of rising?

She did feel safe. She burrowed deeper, imagining being held in those strong arms, feeling them tighten around her, feeling the warm breath in her ear, so steady. Breathing in and out. His heart rate never faltered. Never rose or slowed but remained that same steady rhythm, as if he could always be counted on. Did she dare voice her concern aloud? Already she was terrified that she had been awake long enough to alert Sergey.

He will never give me up. He will use me to kill everyone who helped to take me from him. He’s so cruel. If I don’t go back to him, he will burn this place to the ground with everyone in it right in front of me.

As soon as she gave voice to her concerns, even if it was only in her mind, panic again began to burst through her. What if Sergey heard? What if he was able to monitor her in spite of the safeguards the Carpathians had so carefully woven around her? She didn’t dare utter his evil name just in case the vampire was able to latch on to that.

A hand pressed into her hair, a soothing stroke down the back of her head. Like a caress. It was so strange, so unusual, such a rare, shocking feeling she’d never experienced, it stopped the welling panic before it could take her over.