He shook with the need to strike back, desperate for his own power, hating his inability to save Razvan. The emotions were so strong that it took him a few moments before he realized he was feeling the child's passionate need to help her father every bit as well as his own sentiments.

She leapt out from behind the column and raced across the ice. Nicolas barely had time to push to the front when she kicked Xavier hard behind the knee. The old man tilted ominously, and then crumpled to the floor of the cave, howling. Lara tried to pull the chains from her father's arms, the vampire blood burning through the pads of her fingers. Nicolas felt the pain stabbing like a knife all the way to the bone, robbing him of breath. She whirled around to the man, trying to pick himself up off the floor, crouching down, patting at his tunic pockets to try to find the key to unlock the chains.Xavier slapped her hard, sending her flying. Nicolas actually felt the Dragonseeker blood in her surge to the fore to aid her body in its catlike movements. Lara was obviously unaware of the way she landed on her feet, a seven-year-old child, untrained, yet already moving with physical prowess. She rushed the old man again.

This time, Xavier was ready for her. He threw her down and lashed her repeatedly with the whip, drawing thin red streaks across her body. She rolled and covered her head as he lashed her viciously.

"You want him free? You want that, girl? He'll smell the blood and come sniffing at you like a hungry hound. He hasn't had blood in days and he'll tear into you." The old man kicked her and shuffled across to her father.

Razvan fought at the chains, threatening Xavier and calling out to Lara to run. Nicolas couldn't get up. The pain of the whip, the burns and he was certain a cracked rib were too much for the small body they occupied. He could only lie there helplessly covering Lara's spirit, doing his best to shield her while Xavier stabbed a needle into Razvan's neck and dispensed a yellowish liquid.

Xavier stepped back from his grandson and watched with gleeful eyes. "She wants you free, Razvan, and I grant her wish."

Tatijana! Branislava! You must come to her aid. Please, please get her away from me. Block her mind, block my mind. I cannot bear to harm her again. This is too much, even for me.

Nicolas heard the plea in his head and Lara's small body tried to push itself up. He could see Razvan's face contorting. Saw Xavier step away from him, his expression cunning. Razvan's eyes glowed red and his teeth lengthened.

Fear consumed Nicolas, ate him from the inside out. He scrambled with Lara, trying to dig into the ice for purchase to get away, but only slipped. Razvan lifted his head and sniffed the air-scenting the blood, just as Xavier said he would. He turned his head slowly until his mad eyes focused on Lara.

She whimpered and tried to crawl away. Growling, he was on her, licking at the drops of blood beading on her skin from the whip marks.

She fought, trying to push him away, but he pulled her arm to him and sank his teeth deep into her wrist. She screamed.

Nicolas felt the slice through his skin, the tearing of muscle and tissue, the puncture into his vein. It burned. More than physical was the agony of knowing he was so helpless. No matter how he fought, no matter how many blows he landed, there was no escaping those teeth gnawing at his flesh, or gulping at his blood.

Every moment made him weak until he felt he couldn't lift his arms to ward off his inevitable death. He almost welcomed death. It was preferable to being so powerless. His heart jumped in alarm. This then, was how he had made Lara feel. Hopeless. Filled with despair. So weak and vulnerable instead of making her feel powerful and cherished. This was the sin he would carry for all time.

Xavier pushed Razvan away and jerked Lara's arm to his mouth. The pain of his teeth was worse than Razvan's. His grandson pushed back, clawing at Lara and growling as the two men scuffled and fought over the prize. Lara wept softly until her body was too weak even for that. She lay panting, wheezing, her lungs struggling for air as Xavier controlled Razvan using magic, caging him in a field of energy and walking him back to his chains.

The old man turned to look at the child sprawled on the floor, his face a mask of fury. "You dare touch me? Kick me? I give you food. Life even. Ungrateful little brat." He reached down and hauled Lara up by her hair, the long red-gold curls framing her face.

Energy crackled and light sparked around his open palm. Shears appeared, sharp and wicked. Without preamble he hacked at the curls so that great chunks of silky hair fell to the floor of the ice cave. Lara screamed and writhed, trying desperately to wiggle free. Xavier took a firmer grip and kept cutting, all the while humming.Horrified, Nicolas shoved Lara aside, knowing Xavier was purposely humiliating her, cutting the hair as close to her scalp as possible. Long strands of black hair began to rain down to pile on top of Lara's head, until the long thick strands of midnight black covered every inch of silky red.

Carpathian hair grew fast, long and thick and luxurious, almost like the pelt of an animal and few ever cut their hair. It was a sacred tradition in their culture and the ancients especially had an aversion to a shorn head. Nicolas was no exception. As the chunks of hair fell, he felt sick inside.

Lara's spirit stirred. Whether she liked it or not she was his lifemate and as her distress weighed on him, so did his on her. She pushed deeper into his mind, allowing him to pull her away from the childhood memories. Nicolas didn't hesitate, treating her sudden capitulation as a gift. He surrounded her spirit and took them fast from the past to the present, understanding completely why the aunts and her father had blocked her memories. He had lived them with her and he was shaky and sick inside.

Nicolas held Lara in his arms, looking down into her face, breathing for both of them, calling her name softly. "Come back to me, o jela sielamak. Light of my soul, be with me, Lara."

She blinked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears, exhaustion on her face, mouth trembling, her fingers sliding off his arm when she tried to hold on to him. She lifted her hand and stared, horrified at the blood smearing her palm.

Chapter 9.

Nicolas looked down into Lara's opaque eyes. Glass eyes. Unseeing eyes. He had forced her spirit close to the surface-he still surrounded her there refusing to let her go-but she had not committed herself to life. She refused to commit herself to him.

I cannot blame you, Lara, but I am asking for a second chance. Come back to me.

She flinched. First her spirit, and then her physical body. She saw him as the enemy, a man who would imprison her and take her blood. Crave her blood. Need it. Hunger after it. The knowledge flooded his mind and as merged as they were, as honest with her as he insisted on being, he couldn't deny those things. He would crave her taste. She was his lifemate and part of their bonding-a huge part of their lovemaking-was the exchange of blood. It was a reaffirming of the love and commitment to one another, not only of the heart and mind and soul, but the physical life as well.

He pressed his forehead to hers. We will find a way to satisfy both our needs. We have only to make that commitment.

He was a man who always was certain of his every move, who knew what to do under any circumstance, yet suddenly he was off balance, uncertain of the right thing to say or do. He had never in his life, even as a boy, felt helpless or vulnerable, he'd had no way of understanding her at all, or the trauma she'd dealt with.

He could hold her as he was doing, rock her gently back and forth, feeling lost. I have no words to make this right.

She was still, too still. He felt almost desperate. My life was so different from yours. I had parents who were loving, four strong brothers who always had my back. I have always had enormous strength of body and will. My skills were superior to many others and, I think, from an early age, I developed a very unflattering arrogance. I was always able to get my way no matter what I wanted.

He brushed his lips against her eyelids, feeling them flutter, a whisper of movement much like the gentle grazing of a butterfly's wings. Was she listening? Did he have a chance of bringing her back to him? Or would she be forever caught in a half-world where he couldn't quite reach her?

Previous Top NextI was there with you this time, Lara. I learned what it is like to feel helpless, to feel small and filled with despair.

There was a small silence. He found himself holding his breath. She was aware of him, she was close-so close his every instinct was to grab her and jerk her the rest of the way into the land of the living, but he fought that dominant side of his nature and waited as patiently as any hunter.

There was a stirring in his mind. I did not want that for you. Her lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. Sorrow and guilt mixed with fear. Her gaze drifted over his face and then up to his hair. Her body jerked as if struck.

Nicolas looked down at himself. He was covered in blood from the whip marks and gouges, and his ribs were bruised from the kicking. There were wounds on his wrists, deep punctures and gaping lacerations. Still holding her, he reached one shaky hand to touch his shorn head. His hair was gone, leaving only patches.

His heart leapt and then he took a breath and let it out. "Lara, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso. Beloved, you must come back fully to this world."

Her gaze continued to drift over his face, blue-green eyes swimming with tears, melting that stone-cold spot deep inside him he had never quite managed to make function.

I am not beloved.

He captured her hand with gentle fingers and brought her knuckles to his mouth. "You gave me back my soul, palafertiilm, and now you have restored my heart." He placed her palm over his heart. "It beats again, and it is beating for you."

He was covered in fresh whip marks that were already fading, but he had to see for himself what Lara's body retained of those childhood years. She wasn't fully Carpathian and he doubted if her injuries had healed the way his already were doing. She had had years of abuse. Why hadn't he already discovered that?

Nicolas turned her hand over to examine her wrist. The multitude of scars piled one on top of the other. Slices and punctures and gouges formed a bracelet. The fresh tears had come from her own teeth trying to open her vein to escape the darkness in him. His gut knotted at the sight. It had been the scar tissue from the continual childhood abuse that had saved her life, but like a wolf willing to chew off its leg when caught in a trap, she had been more than prepared to do the same.

The sight of those marks shamed him as nothing else could have. He had relived only a small portion of her life and it had left him shaken and sick inside. She had endured years of it. He pressed her wrist to his mouth. Her entire body jerked and she whimpered softly, closing her eyes, several tears tracking down her face.

Trust me, o jela sielamak. Light of my soul. "Trust me, Lara." He kept his voice low, mesmerizing without being hypnotic. He breathed warm air over the rough band of scars and then lowered his mouth to her wrist. His tongue stroked a healing caress over the rigid skin. His lips brushed back and forth in a small, soothing motion. He whispered a healing chant, rhythmic and beautiful to the ear, the words ancient and flowing in his melodic voice.

She stopped resisting, but he felt her holding herself very still as if waiting for betrayal. His heart wept for her, for that small child who had been made to feel so helpless, and for the grown woman whose lifemate had carelessly made her feel exactly the same way.

He turned her other wrist over and performed the same ritual, a slow bathing of her skin with the healing agent in his saliva, all the while watching her face, her eyes, for a sign of withdrawal. There was no movement one way or the other. She became completely still, too frightened to even blink up at him, a wild animal trapped.

"I am not going to hurt you," he assured, keeping his voice soft, intent on drawing her wholly back to the surface. She hovered there, ready to flee back into a place of childhood horror rather than be imprisoned as an adult. "Stay with me, Lara. Let me show you how a Carpathian man cherishes his woman."He pushed aside the long rope of bright hair to examine the marks at her neck. His was there, two small puncture wounds and a small strawberry. He pressed his mouth there, sweeping his tongue across the mark of possession to heal it completely. Where before it had been important to him for the world to know she was his, now it was important to him that she be free of any reminder of her childhood. She shuddered, her body stiff, but again, her spirit seemed to hover there, just waiting.

Do not be alarmed, Lara, I need to examine your back. He chose to use the more intimate form of communication, mind to mind, so that his motives would be absolutely clear to her. I have to take a look at your back and legs.

The urge to see for himself was a need, had grown into a monstrous compulsion he couldn't fight. His body was covered in thin white stripes already healing, which meant, he was certain, that she carried scars all over her body, constant reminders of being helpless and humiliated. His hands were gentle as he laid her facedown on the soft blankets he'd fashioned for her. It took moments of thought to have her skin gleaming beneath the flickering candlelight. She was so tense she was shaking, but again she lay quiet under the caressing pads of his fingers.

Her back was crisscrossed with white ridges and lines. The pattern continued all the way down her buttocks to the backs of her legs. Most were shallow and faint, but scar tissue had formed over a few of them. He knew, from the fire in his back and legs, that he bore the same marks, although within another hour, they would disappear from his body as if they'd never been.

His eyes burned and he closed them for a moment, despising himself for not knowing this, not taking the time to know every inch of his lifemate's body, know every bit of her past in order to secure the happiness of her future. He had vowed to cherish her, to place her happiness above all things and, even without the lifemate bond, honor should have dictated that he do so. He had been consumed with his own importance, his own desires and his belief that he was always right and others owed him their allegiance.

Nicolas bent forward and pressed his lips to the middle of a particularly deep scar. Forgive me, palafertiilm. There is no excuse I can offer to you, nor will I. Words will not repair the damage I have done to you, only actions.

His tongue swirled over the white slashes, and then traced each deep ridge. In his mind, merged so deeply with hers, he chanted the healing words of his people, words filled with power. As he did so, he waved one hand so that aromatic candles filled the chamber with soothing, curative scents. Across the mineral pool, herbs floated, releasing their fragrance to add to the therapeutic environment.

Nicolas swept one hand through his hair, feeling the chopped edges, his stomach knotting in protest of his shorn head. Dismissing the disturbing sensation of helpless anger, he bent closer to Lara's back and began the slow task of tracing each individual scar with his tongue. He doubted if, after all this time, the marks would disappear completely, but certainly they would fade until it would be difficult to see them. He wanted that for her.

He wasn't foolish enough to think that if he could make them disappear from her body, the trauma would be gone from her mind-they both would live with the damage done to her, but... I will not make mistakes. Amusement slipped into the velvet of his voice. Not the same mistakes anyway ...

A muffled sob escaped. She trembled from head to toe.

Lara. He whispered her name like a soft entreaty. Do not fear me. I know I was wrong.

Not you. Me. I was wrong. The aunts have always said where there is life, there is hope. It was cowardly to retreat. I didn't think what you would do or what would happen to you. I honestly didn't know you would follow me and try to bring me back. Another sob shook her.

He pressed kisses along two thin streaks, his tongue following the path of the whip marks to ease those lines from her body. If you had not, I would never have learned what it was like to be helpless. I would have said I understood, but how could I have had true understanding? I might have been compassionate and felt sympathy, but I would never truly understand.

No, palafertiilm, it had to be this way so I could become a true lifemate to my other half.

Lara wanted to believe his low, mesmerizing voice, but she hadn't recovered her courage. She was terrified of a future with this man. Right now he was moving his mouth and hands over her body, stirring her into a torturous physical ache when she was so frightened she didn't know what to do or who to turn to. He held power over her, whether it was what she wanted or not. He seemed to understand, his voice was a seduction of promise, his hands and mouth a hypnotic blend of seduction and soothing warmth.

She lay facedown with her eyes closed, absorbing the feel of his hands smoothing over her skin. It was incredibly sensuous to have him lapping at her body with his tongue with long, slow caresses that made her body shiver. He wasn't trying to be sensual, it was just natural in his touch, an intimate stroke of his tongue, or maybe it was the pull between lifemates. She knew he wasn't trying to arouse her body, she was firmly in his mind and could feel his intentions to heal her, to take away reminders of abuse.

His hands shaped her hips, the pads of his fingers traveling over the curve of her buttocks, his tongue following the thin white stripes. Now she could feel his hair, the illusion of his shorn head gone, so that the long length of it fell like silky rain over her bare skin. Her womb tightened and her hips moved restlessly.

His entire focus seemed to be on her-on her body, her skin. His hands ran along the sides of her breasts, her ribs, shaped her hips and slid smoothly over and beneath her bottom to stroke beneath each cheek and down her thighs. The leisurely exploration was slow and gentle and all the while his tongue lapped at her scars. She could feel the brush of his lips as he planted little kisses along the path of her spine and into the small of her back. Her body vibrated beneath his touch, every nerve ending aware of him.

A sound escaped, somewhere between a moan and a slow hiss of need. She pressed closer to the pillow, tears burning in her eyes. How could she want him this way when he had taken her dignity, her independence, so hard-won after a childhood of abuse? But her body was on fire for him. Every touch of his hands, every lap of his tongue, even the brush of his hair sent flames dancing over her skin and built the hunger blossoming inside of her.

I am almost finished, o jela sielamak. Light of my soul, stay still for me. Because if she didn't, his body was going to go up in flames. He had started out with only a thought to heal her, but his groin was full and aching, pressed tightly against her thigh as he worked.

Nicolas tried to keep the feel of her satin skin and the rounded curves of her body from affecting him, but it was impossible. Her body trembled, her legs moved restlessly and he scented the call of mates, but a small sob escaped, muffled and restrained. He remained deeply merged with her, reading her distress.

It is good to want your lifemate, Lara. Enjoy the feeling, do not fear it. Just because we both desire one another's body does not mean we have to act on that desire. You are safe with me. I wish only to heal you, not to add to your fears.

There was a small silence. He held his breath waiting for her response.

I'm not ready. There was apology and guilt in her voice.

How could you be? You have to trust before you can give your body into my keeping. There is no need to be upset because I want you. You are my lifemate. His tongue touched the back of her thigh in a slow, intimate dip into a whitened dimple. I am supposed to want you as you are supposed to want me.

Lara rubbed her face against the pillow, arousal teasing her thighs. I guess that is the one thing we don't have to worry about. Every stroke of his tongue intensified the need building. She was very confused, torn with fear, afraid to commit to him, yet her body betrayed her-wet, weeping with hunger, calling to his, breasts sensitive, feminine channel inflamed and needy.

He took his time on the backs of her calves, not rushing when his own hungers grew with every brush of his skin against hers.

This is not about sex, Lara, this is about healing. When I make love to you, there will be no doubt what I am doing. But you will not be confused and afraid. You will come to me willingly or not at all.

That was the trouble-she was willing-at least her body was and that felt like a betrayal of herself. She had allowed him to draw her back, in essence to agree to commit her life to his again, yet he still seemed to have all the power.

"The true power lies with you," Nicolas objected, reading her fears easily. He sat up, waving his hand so that a soft material covered her bare skin, keeping her from feeling so exposed and vulnerable. He gathered her back into his arms, cradling her body to his. "A woman is the greatest treasure a man can have." He could feel her body trembling and she looked up at him through troubled eyes veiled with thick lashes. "You really are too weak to be taken to the inn, but if it would make you feel better, I can do so. My fear is that if we are attacked, we would be very vulnerable there."

He needed blood-and so did she. As weak as she was, he doubted if she could go more than a couple of hours before he would be forced to give her another exchange and he was uncertain how best to broach the subject with her.

"I'm not afraid of being here."

That hadn't been the trouble, Nicolas knew. And he caught her desire, hastily suppressed, to be in the open where she could feel free. He didn't want to move her, at least not until she was significantly stronger.

Nicolas settled against the headboard of the bed with Lara in his arms. He rested his chin on top of her silky hair and held her in his arms, close to his chest. His heart was beneath her ear, a steady rhythmic beat meant to reassure her. She wanted to be outside in the open. A small smile touched his mouth and he directed his attention to the high ceiling of the cavern.

The flickering candles suddenly snuffed out, leaving behind complete darkness. Immediately the sensation of the room growing and expanding struck them and then the dark was lit by a thousand stars. Lara gasped, lifting her gaze to sparkling constellations scattered across the ceiling. The sky turned a midnight black, a perfect backdrop for the glittering stars. A faint breeze swept into the cavern, bringing the scent of wild flowers and freshly cut grass. She blinked and found that the stalagmites, large columns of minerals deposited from water dripping over the centuries, had twisted into thick tree trunks, branches spreading across the chamber floor to twine with one another and form a forest. Leaves fluttered in the breeze, creating a whisper of sound.

She leaned back and gazed upward, spellbound. "It's beautiful."

Nicolas couldn't take his eyes from the rapt expression on her face. For the first time since he'd met her, he'd done something right.

"See that constellation up there?" He pointed to a grouping of stars. "Watch it."

At first the stars remained stationary in the sky and it was difficult to distinguish what he meant by constellation, but then an outline emerged, twin dragons slowly taking shape as the stars began to glow brighter, forming the bodies, sweeping tails and heads. One dragon stretched, leaning forward, lifting a clawed foot in a graceful movement. The second dragon threw back its head and let out a stream of roiling white vapor. As she watched, the gasses began to spin, drawing together as if pulled by gravity to form a long, flowing opaque tube.

The dragon pumped its wings, the stars shaping its body glowing white-hot. Its twin rose up on its hind legs and fanned the sky, spreading stars in all directions.

Her soft mouth curved into a tentative smile, even as she leaned back against him. She was already exhausted, unable to sit up she was so weak. He laid her against the pillows and slid to one side of her, propped up on his elbow, continuing to build the illusion of being outside the cavern in open air.

The crystals in the room began to vibrate, sending the leaves dancing and the tree trunks humming. Flowers covered the floor, springing up all over, lining a path that led from the bed through the archway to the chamber with the pool. The archway disappeared under vines as they wound around one another and climbed up the walls.

Lara kept her gaze fixed on the stars. The dragons leapt about playing with carefree abandon, their antics making her laugh.

"You try it," he said.She shook her head. "I can't do that."

"Of course you can." Nicolas caught her hand and laced her fingers through his, pointing as he did so to a group of stars just above the heads of the dragons. "Choose a cluster that reminds you of an animal."

She swallowed visibly and Nicolas could feel her body vibrate with tension. In her mind she traced the dragon that she'd drawn on her wall. It had leapt out at her and attacked viciously. The solution to their problem might be simple enough in theory, but it would take time and patience. He needed to make her feel the power running through her body and in her mind. She was Dragonseeker, from one of the legendary and most revered bloodlines. Knowledge, not only of ancient Carpathian ways and abilities, but mage as well, had been dumped into her mind. She had tremendous potential. He had to show her that power.

But she might try to leave him. The thought came unbidden and he felt the darkness in him rise to take the bait. Even his teeth lengthened. Now that his emotions were involved as well, he was more dangerous than ever. He fought back the need to dominate and leaned closer to her, pressing his lips against her ear so that his lips brushed the velvet soft lobe.

"You have every ability, that of your aunts, your father, and mine, in your head. You have only to find the right information and put it to use. You mind is merged with mine. Follow what I did and you will have complete control of the illusion. That is all it really is."

Lara shivered, her blue eyes swirling with green. Her hair banded with color, going to a deep red. "But it seems so real. If I touched it, I believe I would feel scales."

"Of course, or I have not done my job properly."

Lara reached toward the sky with one hand. The stars seemed very real, as did the surrounding forest and meadow of flowers.

She cast another nervous glance toward Nicolas, reminding him again of a wild creature cornered and fearing for its life. She was ready to defend herself if necessary; he could feel her mind preparing for trouble.

"Try the cluster of stars up there on the left. My pair would like to have a little one to play with."