Page 12 of Dark Hope (Dark Carpathians #38)
Chapter 12
Silke watched in horror as Benedek sifted through his childhood memories. She knew some parents were distant from their children. Some in the village might even be considered harsh. But she had never seen such abuse in her life. The forced killings were an abomination of parenting. It wasn’t just the father or mother; it was the older brother as well.
As the years unfolded and the punishments became even more extreme, bile rose. Benedek had been forced to go along with his father, brothers and four other men to the village, where they raped the women and tortured the men. His father lived like a feudal lord. He believed anything he wanted was his just due, his right to take. His eldest son and the four others believed it as well.
Benedek questioned everything. Refused to participate, even if his brother and father beat him sadistically. He was called a spineless coward nightly. His mother slapped and taunted him. It took a long time for Silke to get past the horrific deeds of his family and home in on him. It became clear to her that Benedek was nothing like the rest of his family.
In those early days, he felt compassion for the people his father targeted. He put his life on the line several times to stop his father and the others from harming the villagers. He soaked up every fighting technique he came across. He watched the others when they had no idea he was anywhere near them.
He was perfecting his skills, and she saw all the work he put in when he was alone to become stronger and faster. He learned to disappear into shadows and rock, in the forest and rivers. He worked with nature, not against it. His father had a brilliant son yet didn’t seem to recognize it. If anything, he became crueler and much more vicious toward Benedek.
The betrayal by his mother was like watching something out of a horror film. She wanted to yell to young Benedek not to trust her. Just by looking at the woman’s face and hearing her sly voice, Silke knew something terrible was going to happen and Benedek’s own mother was a party to it.
When the attack came in the dark of the woods, her breath caught in her lungs and refused to allow her to breathe.
“Silke, that’s enough. You’re crying for me.”
His fingertips touched her face where her tears made wet tracks. She could feel his shock. His bewilderment. No one had ever cried for him. No one had ever cared enough to cry for him.
“Don’t stop. I want to see how this happened.” She raised her face up and brushed her mouth against the thickest part of that white scar marring the skin around his throat. She couldn’t stop herself from trying to soothe him. Centuries had gone by, centuries allowing him to distance himself from the horrific trauma of his childhood. “I need to see how you managed to stay alive.”
Because really? She couldn’t imagine even the strongest Carpathian hunter surviving the ordeal he’d gone through.
Benedek sighed and drew her closer. Ordinarily she would never have allowed such an intimacy, but she knew they both needed it while he revealed the rest of the scenario to her.
Silke became aware of the wind. It ran across the tall blades of grass, pulling them upward around his body as if seeking to hide it. “Agony” wasn’t the right word to describe the pain crashing through the young Carpathian lying in pools of blood in the meadow. The pain was far, far worse than mere agony. In the distance, she heard screams of fear and the taunting laughter of men coming from the direction of the village. The sounds sent fear rolling through her, but she refused to turn away. If Benedek had lived this, she could observe it.
He shifted to the balls of his feet, surrounded her with his arms and pulled her back tight against his front. And she let him. For the first time in her life, she felt safe. His arms were thick with muscle and felt as if he’d wrapped steel fencing around her, securing her against him. Anchoring her during the worst horror movie imaginable. It had everything. The worst kind of betrayal. Depraved monsters preying on innocents.
Silke was aware Benedek was not only holding her physically, he was holding her mind distant so she could touch on what he felt, but it couldn’t consume her. While she appreciated his protection, she felt she should experience some of what he’d gone through. At least at first she felt that way, until she crept close and saw him, or what was left of him.
He must have been stabbed ten or fifteen times before his brother cut his throat. She didn’t understand how Benedek could be alive, let alone aware. Not only was he aware, but she felt the energy around him expand. He was sending his energy to the surrounding area, calling for aid. Looking for something. Someone. She’d never felt so much determination radiating from another being in her life. Not just determination. Not hatred exactly, but the burning need for justice.
That need for justice was raw. Visceral. It burned hotter and brighter than the excruciating pain roaring through his body. His will was absolute iron. His determination to live and come back stronger than ever aided him in closing off each wound with painstaking care.
She had no idea how he had the strength to work on his own ravaged body. He had been destroyed. Just the sheer volume of blood loss should have been enough to kill him. He refused to give in to weakness. He continued, even as he worked at closing off the wounds, to send his call into the night.
A rustle came from the woods. Another and then another. The blades of grass waved toward Benedek from multiple directions as if many creatures were using the tall weeds and flowers to conceal their stealthy approach. A wolf howled. Then a second one. Wings fluttered overhead. An owl came out of the darkness in silence and swooped low to fly over Benedek where he lay in a pool of blood in the tall grass.
The furred creatures came at him from every direction, circling his fallen body. She saw dirt rising into the air around the body. Silke caught a glimpse of large gray bodies with short tails and black-and-white-striped faces. They had come out of the forest at Benedek’s call and were digging fast around and under him. The badgers were notorious for their ability to dig through and under objects in an extremely fast manner.
Shadows moved eerily until they revealed four small figures emerging from the darkness of the forest. Wrapped in long shawls, they made their way across the meadow to stand over Benedek’s body. One at the head, one at the foot and one on either side.
Silke’s breath caught in her throat. She caught at Benedek’s wrist, holding it tightly in excitement. “Those women are witte wieven. ” She whispered the information to him as if the women could overhear her and not that all of this had taken place long ago in Benedek’s past.
“They are healers, medicine women,” she continued. “They know all the natural plants to aid in healing, but you must have known that to summon them. They’re living spirits who walk among us, and they can be anywhere, in any country.”
She studied the one at Benedek’s head. She looked familiar, which was impossible unless Silke was putting her own impressions on the women. It was dark, and the gray clouds kept shifting, moving shadows over the scene so it appeared hazy.
Already the badgers had lowered the body into the ground by several feet. The four women ignored the digging animals as well as the sprays of dirt, and all managed to get into what was now a deep hole. The healing chant was soft, voices raised to the heavens and back down to Mother Earth, filling the air, yet so low it was impossible to make out the actual words.
Silke had heard them many times. She had stood beside Fenja when her mother was working on an impossible injury. She had learned that healing chant as they applied the necessary medication to wounds.
“They are also seers. Some say they can see into the future.”
“What do you think?”
“Fenja can, and I am certain she is witte wieven. Many villagers consult her on planting crops, fishing, even marriage.”
His chin moved in the top of her hair, sending little currents of electricity sparkling through her. “She knows who will be successful and who will not?”
She had a feeling she knew where he was going with his questions. “Yes.”
“Did she weigh in on our union?”
“She sat with me during the negotiations,” Silke said. “I wouldn’t have been there if she didn’t think you were suitable for me. She would have spirited me away.”
“Even when there are demons invading your village?”
“Yes.” It was the truth. Fenja would have found a way to persuade her to leave if she didn’t think Benedek would make her a good match.
His chin rubbed again along the top of her head. “I’m grateful Fenja thinks I’m worthy of you.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, a small wave of laughter slid through Silke. “I doubt she thinks anyone is worthy of me, although if she saw this”—she gestured with one finger toward the women, badgers and Benedek—“that might make you a shoo-in.”
One by one the women knelt beside Benedek’s head and gently placed their wrists over his mouth.
Again, her breath caught in her throat. “They were so brave. They had to know you were starving. It was so dangerous to supply you with blood when you were vulnerable and could have been out of control with pain.”
“I was in control,” Benedek assured. His breath was warm on the side of her neck. Right over her pounding pulse. She was very aware of him, goose bumps rising on her skin.
Movement from the meadow brought her attention back to the frantically digging badgers. She had no idea how the women would get out of that hole. It was a good six feet deep and they were still descending.
Silke studied the four women. Each wore a distinctive shawl. The woman who had been on Benedek’s left side had a shawl that was woven with a grayish ombré hand-dyed yarn. The colors blended into the night and shadows quite easily. This time her heart jumped. She’d seen that shawl on many occasions. Fenja had tucked it around her when she was a mere toddler. She had asked Fenja to borrow it when she went out late at night to visit an ailing child because the warmth and comfort of that lightweight shawl were incomparable.
Silke had never asked Fenja where she got the shawl. She’d always had it, and Silke took it for granted. If she had thought about it, she assumed Fenja had made it. The shawl was very distinctive, and she doubted if there could be two of them. Was this woman an ancestor of Fenja? She shared her thoughts with Benedek.
“Do you think it is possible?”
Benedek hesitated. “It is possible. The spirits of wise women sometimes remain to walk the earth and aid others. I know that to be true. It is possible Fenja is one of these women. Tell me about her.”
“She’s an incredible healer. There is not one single plant that we’ve come across that she isn’t familiar with. She knows how to use them and what each is good for.”
“She never married.”
“No, she said she had the calling and it was important. A husband would demand her time, and she didn’t have it to give.”
His arms tightened around her. “Did she teach you everything she knows about plants and healing?”
“Yes, of course. I’m her daughter. I may not be her blood, but I’m her daughter. She’s the only mother I’ve ever known. She was generous teaching me.”
Benedek indicated the women as they turned from his body and looked up toward the darkened sky. The badgers had taken the hole down at least twelve feet and were still digging. A wave of power emanated from the resting place. There was nothing in the least feminine about that power. It was solidly masculine.
Benedek raised the four women from the hole. The badgers continued to dig, dropping him deeper and deeper into the soil. Silke had no idea how far down they put him, but it was the deepest she’d ever seen. The soil sparkled with minerals and healing properties. All four of the witte wieven women sprinkled a mixture of herbs, flowers and powders over Benedek’s resting place and his battered body while they chanted.
The badgers suddenly ceased their work and clawed their way to the surface. Immediately, soil poured into the hole, covering Benedek’s body completely. Silke found she couldn’t look away. Once again, she found her lungs were burning raw. She was unable to pull in air, suffocating, her nose and mouth refusing to draw the much-needed oxygen into her lungs. Panic welled up.
“You are not underground, sivamet. You are here with me. We are merely observers. We could be watching a play unfolding, but it isn’t interactive.”
She realized it felt real because she was merged with Benedek. It was real to him because he’d lived through it. Still, it was strange that she’d had such a reaction and even now had to force herself to breathe deeply. Her reaction? Or his?
He felt perfectly calm, but he didn’t always acknowledge his emotions. Was it even possible for a Carpathian to feel as if they were suffocating?
“This is probably a silly question, Benedek.” She was going to ask him, even if he made fun of her later.
“There are no silly questions. If you want to know something, just ask. If I am able to answer you, I will. Not that I can guarantee you’ll always like the answer,” he warned.
She leaned her head against his chest. Her heart beat that little bit too fast. “When the soil closed over your head, did you feel as if you were suffocating?”
“I am Carpathian. The soil is rejuvenating. I needed to be deep, where my father and brothers couldn’t detect where I was sleeping.”
She remained silent. Waiting. He hadn’t answered the question. He dropped his arms from around her, and at once she felt alone. She was used to being alone, so it didn’t make sense to her that she was vaguely upset. She didn’t let men touch her, yet she was already missing the way it felt to be held by him.
Benedek gently turned her to face him. “Do you want to know because it will be one more thing for you to put on your list of why you don’t want to be Carpathian?”
She hadn’t thought of that. Not even subconsciously. She’d been thinking only of Benedek. “No. I had such an unusually strong reaction that it didn’t make sense to me. I just thought maybe I was tapping into your memories.”
He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He could disarm her every time with how gentle he was when he touched her. His gentleness was at such odds with his rough looks.
“Despite the women helping me and giving me blood, I was weak. Very weak. I couldn’t get the wound in my throat to close properly.”
Her gaze jumped to the thin white scar encircling his throat. She knew a wound had to be mortal for a Carpathian to scar. That scar swept around his throat. She knew the cut had been very deep. His brother had nearly hacked off his head.
She couldn’t resist the impulse to slide the pad of one finger along the scar, tracing it around his throat. His skin was surprisingly warm. Hot even. The moment she touched him, she knew it was a mistake. She felt her skin melting into his. Merging with him. Belonging. It was the oddest feeling and one she didn’t want. She was already feeling emotional. Watching his past unfold had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Sharing his past in the way she had only added to the growing ties between them. Now it seemed as if physically she had somehow tied herself to him as well.
“I found myself choking on blood. I should have shut down my heart and lungs immediately, but I wanted to make certain the meadow looked as if I had died there, my body burnt in the sunrise as my family expected. I also had to erase any evidence of the wise women coming to aid me. If Marius caught even a hint that someone had helped me, he would torture them before he killed them. It wouldn’t matter what age they were.”
Once again, as if a compulsion was on her, Silke had to touch him. To offer comfort. He didn’t seem to want or need it from her, but she needed it. She placed her palm on the side of his face, feeling the shadowy bristles along his jaw. Her fingertips explored all those angles and planes, committing him to memory by touch.
Silke thought he might pull away from her. She was being far too intimate, and like her, he wasn’t used to others touching him. Without flinching, he endured the way her fingers mapped out his features. She was meticulous, finding every line, every tiny detail, until she knew she would be able to map out his face on the darkest night.
“I have no idea why your touch has such an effect on me.”
Not only did Benedek sound confused, but she felt his confusion.
“What kind of effect?” Touching him affected her. She hoped he felt similar things.
“There is a place inside me. Deep. Dark. Ice-cold. It’s where I put the rage I awakened from the attack with. It’s ugly, and I’ve never been able to rid myself of it. Hunters don’t feel, Silke.”
His gaze remained steady on hers. She knew he expected condemnation from her at his confession yet still he continued. She also was aware he had never told a single soul the things he was sharing with her. She couldn’t help but like that he was going to tell her things that had been kept secret for centuries.
“If Marius hadn’t spotted me and decided to abduct and raise me as his son, my parents could very well still be alive.”
That shocked her. “Benedek.” She whispered his name. “You can’t possibly blame yourself for the death of your parents. You were a baby. You don’t even have a real memory of them.”
“Somewhere I must. I don’t forget anything. Most Carpathians lose their memories. I didn’t. Other than the one that would have been the most important.” For the first time, he shoved his hand through his thick hair, betraying agitation. Guilt. Shame. “I didn’t realize Marius wasn’t my birth father or that Fawn wasn’t my birth mother. I should have known. I knew I didn’t fit in.”
Silke was beginning to understand why Benedek felt he had no heart. The child abuse taking place in his home while he grew up and then the heartbreak of betrayal by his entire family had laid that solid foundation for mistrust. She had no doubt that over the centuries he had seen and experienced much more betrayal.
For Silke, it was the worst knowing he blamed himself for his birth parents’ deaths. He hadn’t even been two years old when he’d been taken. If he did have memories of his birth parents, she was going to make it her mission in life to locate them.
Benedek thought he would alienate her by sharing his past, by proving that he wasn’t capable of love. She saw it much differently. She thought him capable; he just wasn’t in touch with his feelings. That didn’t mean she believed he would love her. He was willing to take her as his lifemate on loyalty and trust, not love. He’d made that clear.
Silke worried that she couldn’t possibly bring anything to the partnership to make things equal between them. Benedek was far too experienced for her to ever catch up. She hadn’t witnessed him in a battle, but from the little Tora had told her, he was extremely skilled. She wasn’t the best at fighting vampires. Demons, yes; vampires were a huge no.
“I lived to bring Carpathians like Marius to justice. After I lost the ability to hear the whispered temptations to kill for the rush, for the chance to feel once more, the silence in that world was deafening. But then, slowly I realized I felt the battles. I looked forward to them. That was emotion. Feeling. It was addicting to the point I craved the fights.”
The confession came out in his low raspy tone. For some reason, her body reacted to his specific tone. A part of her tried to analyze why she would react to that sound when she wasn’t susceptible to sound. A demon slayer couldn’t be compromised by a compelling voice. She had always been immune to the false, sweet voices demons could use—or anyone for that matter. Until Benedek.
“Do you understand what I’m sharing with you, Silke? This isn’t a good thing. You should be upset knowing the fraud and deceiver I am. Once I tie us together, there is no going back.”
She faced him, arching an eyebrow. “How are you a fraud? Or a deceiver?”
“The oath to you carved into my back. That is deceptive. Every one of my brethren has this same oath tattooed onto their backs for their lifemate. It was what kept us going for over two hundred years there in the monastery and then after, when we were all looking for our lifemates.”
Silke listened carefully to his explanation. He wasn’t even aware he had used “kept us going.” He hadn’t said the others . He had included himself. “Show me.”
His obsidian eyes drifted over her face, holding her still. Captivating her. There was the merest hint of possession in his gaze. He turned his back to her and removed his shirt.
Silke’s breath caught. Carpathian skin, as a rule, won’t hold a tattoo, especially for centuries, but the words he called an oath had been carved into his skin and then injected with an ink they had made. That ink had been delivered through an ancient method of tattooing.
“What does it say?” Because it was hers. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had done that for her. Each word was his promise to her.
Benedek hesitated. Cleared his throat. That was strange when he had always been totally confident, even during the confession of his supposed sin.
“The Carpathian oath begins with Olen w?keva kuntankért , which is ‘Staying strong for our people.’?”
Silke paid attention to his voice. She couldn’t see his face, but she doubted if that would have done her any good anyway. He normally wore an expressionless mask. But she was merged in his mind, a silent shadow, and she hoped she could catch glimpses of Benedek’s true emotions.
“The second line, Olen w?keva pita bels? kulymet , means ‘Staying strong to keep the demon inside.’?”
She found that line particularly interesting. She knew he believed he held a demon inside of him and that it grew stronger with every battle. She had caught glimpses of scars inside his soul. To him that was the mark of his failure.
Again, he had gone silent, almost reluctant to read the third line to her. She moved carefully through his mind, seeing the confusion in him. He was a very decisive man and being conflicted and unsure was not in his nature. It left him very distrustful.
“The third line reads, Olen w?keva—félért ku vigyázak. ”
Silke was patient. His tone had been raspier than ever. Lower. Almost more felt in his mind than heard with her ear. She saw into his thoughts. A very important oath. One he repeated often to himself after a battle when he’d been feeling the adrenaline and condemning himself. She spoke Carpathian and knew what it meant, but she wanted him to interpret it aloud so she could hear his voice and see what impact the vow had on his thoughts.
“It means ‘Staying strong for her.’?”
That line meant something to him, whether he knew it or not. She suspected he was coming to realize all along he had stayed strong for his lifemate, but in acknowledging that, his entire view of himself and his life would be upended.
“And the last line?” she prompted.
“Silke.” Benedek pulled his shirt over his back. His voice was barely there, as if he’d talked too much and his vocal cords had given out.
“The last line, Benedek,” she insisted.
He turned to face her, those dark eyes gleaming. Very gently he framed her face with his palms. “ H?ngemért. ”
The single word was uttered in a low, almost loving voice. Definitely reverent. A whisper of a promise.
“?‘Only her.’ H?ngemért means ‘only her.’ You, Silke. My lifemate. There will always be only you. No woman came before you. No woman will ever come after you. I can give you that vow. I may be a flawed Carpathian, but I can offer you loyalty like no other.”
The pad of his thumb slid across her full bottom lip, tracing the curve. A multitude of butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. It didn’t make sense that he could look at her with that focused stare, never blinking, and turn her inside out, yet each time he did.
“The vows I take with you will be forever imprinted on me and I will keep each one. I have that to give you. It may not sound like much, but I swear I will make you happy.”
He didn’t believe he was good enough for her.
“I gave you my word, Benedek,” Silke said. “The concerns I have for our marriage have to do with my shortcomings, not worries about you.”
She lifted her chin and looked directly into his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach flip-flopped when his eyes focused so completely on her. He might be as gentle as a lamb when he spoke with her. When he was saying beautiful things. Inside his mind, she found that tiny place of vulnerability. He had one. But the majority of Benedek Kovak was a ruthless, merciless hunter, a predator without many equals. He was being sweet and gentle, coaxing her toward their vows, toward committing wholly to him of her own free will, but she saw his intention. If she reneged on her promise and tried to get out of their bond, he would tie them together without her consent.
“You see what I am, and yet you still think the problems lie within you,” Benedek pointed out, revealing that he’d deliberately allowed her to see his intentions.
“You want me to know who you really are,” Silke said. “You’re testing me, whether you know it or not.”
His eyebrow shot up and he dropped his hands. “Why would I do that?”
“To see if I’ll keep my word. You need to know if you can trust me even when I’m afraid.” She gave him a faint smile. “I’m not nearly as afraid of you as you’d like me to be.”
“Or maybe that isn’t it at all, Silke. It could be that I like the way you see me, and I’m trying to decide if you’re right and I’ve been wrong all these centuries.”
That was the last thing she expected him to say. “Why would you give credence to anything I think or believe? I’m a stranger to you.”
“You’re highly intelligent. I would be beyond arrogant right into pompous and overbearing if I didn’t take into consideration your opinions.”
“We should do this so we can get back to Fenja before the end of the night. I had wanted to introduce you to some of my greatest allies, but I suppose we will have to wait.”
“I’ll be honored to be introduced,” Benedek said. “After we’re bound together, when we’re separated it will be difficult for you. I’m in the ground and you won’t be able to reach out to me. For a lifemate, it can feel as if their partner is deceased. Grief is very real and sometimes dangerous. The tendency for a lifemate is to follow his partner into the next realm.”
Silke bit back a protest. Intellectually, if she knew he was alive, there shouldn’t be a problem, but clearly others had had difficulties. “Would you be able to find a resting place beneath my home? I could guard you, and with you closer, perhaps that would lessen the effects.”
Even as she asked, she felt his instantaneous rejection of the idea. Then, reluctantly, he allowed himself to consider it. “Carpathian hunters rarely allow anyone to know their resting place. We’re completely vulnerable in the paralyzing sleep of our kind.”
“I see.” She did. “It was just an idea.”
“A good one if it helps you through the daylight hours.”
She stuck her chin in the air. She’d always handled problems. She could get through a day without a man. Even if there happened to be compulsion involved. “Let’s do this.”
Benedek’s dark eyes moved over her face and then he nodded. He took both hands in his, facing her, keeping her close. “ Te avio p?l?fertiilam. You are my lifemate.” The rasp in his voice was more pronounced than ever.
Strangely, Silke felt every nerve ending in her body come to life at his words. Deep inside there was a stillness, as if she were waiting for something huge.
Benedek pressed her palms against his chest, right over his heart. “ éntolam kuulua, avio p?l?fertiilam. I claim you as my lifemate.”
That something so frozen, so still, suddenly came to life, reaching for him.
His fingers began to move in slow caresses over her bare skin. “ Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed. I belong to you.”
In that moment, Silke felt that Benedek did belong to her—and she to him. She felt the rightness of it. There hadn’t been a mistake. She was definitely Benedek’s true lifemate.
“ élidamet andam. I offer my life for you.”
That rasp in his voice became more pronounced as a million tiny threads began to weave an unbreakable bond between them. She knew she wasn’t the only one feeling those ties. His expression hadn’t changed, but there was even more intensity in his eyes. The pads of his thumbs continued to whisper soothing caresses over the backs of her hands.
“ Pes?met andam. I give you my protection. Uskolfertiilamet andam. I give you my allegiance.”
Around them, the plants swayed and rustled without the wind coming close. The dragon lilies moved closer to her, the rolled petals of several bending toward her to brush against her legs. She felt the camaraderie. The need to ensure she was safe. The lilies seemed to accept Benedek. After hearing how the forest creatures had raced to his aid when he had been so brutally attacked, she wasn’t surprised that the ones she called friends and allies approved of him.
“ Sívamet andam. I give you my heart.” When he uttered that line of the vow, his hands covered hers and pressed her palms tighter against his chest. “Silke, I don’t know what’s left of my heart, if anything, but I swear to you if it is there, it belongs to you.”
Silke didn’t know what to say in the face of his complete sincerity. She nodded, hoping the tears burning behind her eyes would stay put. This was her marriage ceremony. When he finished, she would be this man’s wife. The thought was profound. Overpowering. Overwhelming.
Benedek leaned down and brushed the top of her head with his lips. “ Sielamet andam. I give you my soul.”
The threads drew tight between them, weaving his soul together. A burst of triumph radiated from Silke to Benedek. She had kept his soul safe, and it was back where it belonged. Benedek would have a solid anchor to keep him from ever turning vampire.
“ Ainamet andam. I give you my body. Sívamet kuuluak kaik ett? a ted. I take into my keeping the same that is yours.”
At the intensity in his eyes, she found she couldn’t control the color rushing under her skin.
“ Ainaak olenszal sívambin. Your life will be cherished by me for all time. Te élidet ainaak pide minan. Your life will be placed above mine for all time . ” He brought her fingertips to his mouth and lowered his voice even more. “ Te avio p?l?fertiilam. You are my lifemate. Ainaak sívamet jutta oleny. You are bound to me for all eternity. Ainaak terád vigyázak. You are always in my care.”
He bent his head, his lips brushing hers very gently. His teeth found her lower lip and tugged until she opened for him. He swept in. Heat and fire. Gentle. Rough. Consuming. A definite firestorm shaking her beyond measure. She hadn’t known kisses could make the earth tremble. Could make her lightheaded. Could reduce her body to pure feeling. Heat rushed through her veins, not just heat, a fireball.
It was Benedek who broke the kiss, and she felt bereft. But then he kissed his way toward her throat, pausing to nip at her chin, before continuing. Tiny electrical sparks leapt over her skin, reacting to his warm breath and the touch of his lips. His tongue touched the pulse beating frantically in her neck. Her breath refused to come. It just burned and burned like her body.
His tongue slid over that pulse. His teeth scraped back and forth. It felt erotic, not in the least threatening. Breathe, o jel? sielamak, you forget to breathe.
It isn’t that I forget to breathe, I forget how. She gave him the truth because how could she not when he made her feel like an attractive, desirable woman for the first time in her life?
She felt his brief flash of shared amusement. His arms tightened around her, encircling her with his strength. His teeth bit down, drove through skin to find the essence of her life. The pain was exquisite and gave way almost immediately to sheer pleasure. That had never happened with Tora, but she’d taken blood from Tora’s wrist and Tora had distanced herself completely. She’d been aware of what she was doing but didn’t feel revulsion in the act.
This was a shared intimacy like nothing she could ever have imagined. Her entire body reacted, came to life. Seemed part of his. She wanted to be skin to skin. Melt into him. Every nerve ending was on fire. She had never wanted a man before, had never had the kinds of erotic images playing through her mind. Was it from his mind? Or hers? As closely as they were merged, she couldn’t tell where he began and she left off.
He pulled his head back, his tongue sweeping across the two holes where his teeth had connected them. That sent a shiver down her spine. She lifted her head to look up at him. His eyes held flickering flames. Sensual lines were carved deep into his face. He lowered his head and took her mouth. Nothing could prepare her for the taste and heat of him. The rush of desire pouring through her veins. It felt as if individual flames licked over her skin and bones, each one branding his name deep in her soul.
Our soul, o jel? sielamak. We are one. I have taken enough for a true exchange. You must do the same.
She realized the heat of his skin was against her body, his chest exposed. He raked one fingernail over the heavy muscles there. Immediately, crimson droplets appeared along the line. She should have been repulsed, but it was Benedek, and she was enamored with everything he did. Every way he touched her. Without his command, she bent her head and with the tip of her tongue, collected each of the drops.
The taste of him was indescribable, better than anything she’d ever eaten or drunk. Not only was his taste unique, the flavor appealing to her beyond measure, but his blood acted like some kind of aphrodisiac. She couldn’t stop the restless movements of her body as she sipped at his offering. He groaned, his body hard and hot against hers.
I am going to help you drink now. You must take enough for a true exchange.
Even his voice was sexy. Intimate. Sliding into her mind and stroking caresses through her body. He distanced her from the act of feeding directly from him, but she still felt their connection. Still tasted the amazing aphrodisiac that belonged only to her. Anyone else taking his blood would never taste what she did. Or feel how she felt. She knew that instinctively, and that only added to the intimacy of their union.
She never wanted to stop feeding. She heard and felt his physical reaction and knew he was feeling the same emotions she was. All too soon, he slipped his hand between her mouth and his chest, one finger closing the lifeline off to her.
Silke heard herself moan as she leaned against him, her legs threatening to give out. He brushed a caress down the back of her head with gentle fingers.
“Are you all right?”
His voice. She loved that rasp. The way it stroked over her skin and lit her on fire.
“I don’t know. That was unexpected.”
“You liked it.”
“I loved it.” She was honest with him. “What happens now?”
“We’re tied together, Silke. I don’t want us to ever attempt to break our bond. I’m convinced we’ll be good together.”
He still worried she would want to leave. Silke looked him straight in the eye. “I gave my word to commit to you, and I meant it. You don’t need to keep looking to see if I’ll be here. I will.”
He stroked another caress down the back of her hair. “Give me a century or two to get over my insecurities.”
She loved that he admitted he had insecurities. She smiled up at him. “You aren’t alone in that issue. I know we’ll be good together. I know we will.” She was beginning to have faith in them. Mostly because aside from the physical attraction, she liked him. She liked his thoughtfulness. He didn’t just take. Her feelings counted. Actions, to Silke, were far better than words. The more she was in Benedek’s mind, the more she knew they were right together.
“We’d better get to your home so I can examine Fenja,” he said.
She liked that there was regret in his voice. She wanted to spend time alone with him, but her mother’s health was the most important thing to her right then.
“Thank you for saying you’d look at her for me.”