Christine Feehan - Dark Curse 19

He paid her no attention, murmuring under his breath. She felt the surge of power and knew he was layering on safeguards, binding the shackles with magic so she would have no hope of getting them off if she didn't act fast.

Forcing back a sob, Lara countered his magic.Iron that binds and fastens tight, I seek to unlock that which holds me tight. I summon thee mineral ,blend with light, forge me a key to undo this plight . Power surged as raw minerals from the earth blended with fiery light to form a key.

Nicolas twisted quickly, pushing her to the bed, holding her arms down to keep her hands from rising to direct energy into patterns and to prevent her from grasping the key as he threw out a spell of his own.

Cease this action, intended to unbind, I take in your energy making it mine.

The key disappeared in a burst of light. At once she knew he had bested her. He was centuries old and she was rusty in her practice. She had forgotten that in the early days, when Nicolas was young, mage and Carpathian shared secrets. She was helpless, completely under his domination, a prisoner unable to escape. She blinked up at him, wanting to punch his face, but terrified of the repercussions. He leaned close, so close she could see the long dark lashes that veiled his smoldering eyes. His lips brushed the side of her mouth.

«You look like a trapped kitten, about to hiss and spit fire at me. Go to sleep. We will sort this out the next rising.»

With that, he lay back, dragging her with him, rolling onto his side, his eyes closing-dismissing her. Lara held her breath waiting, not knowing what to look for. It didn't take long. His breath left his body in one rattling exhale and he lay completely motionless. She was chained to a dead man.

The trembling started somewhere in her legs and ran up her body so strong she was afraid she would go into convulsions. She lay staring at the ceiling, her heart beating too fast, too loud, her chest hurting, lungs burning from lack of air, her mind screaming. She was a prisoner with no control, no power, no say over

her own life. It was only a matter of time before he would demand sex and she would succumb to his wishes because she would be unable to stop her body from needing his.

She shuddered. From there, he would take her blood. It was the nature of all Carpathians to take blood and she had sensed, more than once, his desire to take hers. She'd rather be dead than to live enslaved. She couldn't survive without control in her life, without a say in what she did. She couldn't allow herself to be used for food, or, as she feared would happen, sex and food.

Lara thought of her past, the few memories she did have of her childhood and knew she could never relive those times as an adult. She lay awake as the sun rose to its height and her body became so leaden she could barely move. When the sun began to sink, she began trying various spells to rid herself of the iron shackle binding her to Nicolas, but no matter what she tried, she couldn't counter his guards.

She stared up at the gem-studded ceiling without seeing it, tears swimming in her eyes. There was so much left undone that she'd promised to do, but it was too late. Her first promise had been to herself and she refused to even consider anything else. She just needed to work up enough courage to escape in the only way left to her.

Nicolas awakened, drifting, taking one shallow breath every few minutes, allowing his mind and spirit to find peace in the quiet of Carpathian twilight-not fully gone, but not far from the surface. Lara had hurt him and he couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever done such a thing: He hadn't known anyone could. He knew he should wake fully and face her, but he needed to sort out his unfamiliar emotions. She had certainly pricked his pride when she'd accused him of being addicted to the rush of his power. Honor had sustained him these long centuries, not addiction, and it was the only thing he had to offer her. She had stripped him of even that with her careless accusation.

He had wanted to throttle her, yet at the same time, the need to kiss her, to dominate her body with his, had risen up like a terrible demon possessing his mind. She should have been grateful for his honor. Without it, she would have found herself naked and writhing under him. She owed him deference and respect. She was so young and inexperienced in all things. She should rely on his wisdom and trust him. He had done nothing but try to protect her, but she persisted in acting like so many of the women, demanding foolish and dangerous things without thinking them through.

His chest felt heavy, a strange sensation when he should have been weightless. His wrist burned and ached. Fear skittered up his spine and found its way into his consciousness. His spirit reacted, reaching for his body, abruptly taking possession. Nicolas came aware instantly.

He heard the sound of ragged, thready breathing and smelled-death. He shifted his body, and felt Lara, ice cold, lying beside him. Turning his head, he saw her face, eyes wide and unseeing, staring at the ceiling. A wave of his hand dissolved the shackles, allowing him to roll over and come up on his knees beside her, reaching for her limp arm, his heart nearly stopping, then beginning to slam hard and fast in his chest. Her wrist was torn open, obviously a deliberate attempt to end her life. Her own teeth had ripped the ragged tears, opening her vein so that blood ran down the side of the bed.

Veriak ot en Karpatiiak. Kod alte han. By the blood of the prince. Darkness curse it. What has she done?

Swearing, he brought her wrist to his mouth, using his tongue and healing saliva to seal the vein and sweep close the wound.Lara! Come to me . It was a demand. And he was furious that she would do

such a thing.

What was she thinking? Didn't she know what would happen?Lara ! Desperation was setting in. She'd been like a wolf caught in a trap, willing to chew off her foot, or end her life rather than be captured and held prisoner. He had lain beside her, angry, righteous, and all the time, she had been quietly ending her life.

He gathered her into his arms, rocking her gently as he shed his physical body to enter hers. She needed blood. Fast. Her body labored, her mind had already shut itself down to keep from brain damage. Had she been human and mage without Carpathian, she would already be dead.

He found her spirit, flinching from his light-from him.Come to me, o jela sielamak. Light of my soul, stay with me .

His arrogance had driven her to this. He hadn't seen her as a person, so much ashis . His savior, his possession, his to do his bidding. He'd been so sure of himself, so certain of his rightness. Nicolas De La Cruz, informing his brothers how they should handle their lifemates, so certain he knew best for everyone around him, after all, he was faster and smarter and had lived so much longer. And yet his own lifemate, the woman he had sworn to protect, to make happy, he had driven to this-taking her own life rather than submit to him.

He crooned to her, wooed her, soothed her as he gathered her spirit to him to prevent her from going so far he might not be able to bring her back. Keeping her secure, he returned to his own body.

He had needed her to know who was in charge. He needed to establish his dominancy like some conquering warrior, to prove to her that when he said something she should listen because he knew best. This was his failing. He hadn't taken the time to know her, to understand her, or even to give her credit for keeping her word. She had chosen life for them and she placed herself in his hands for all time, trusting him. And he'd destroyed that trust-and them.

He hadn't seen her as someone separate from him, with her own thoughts and feelings. His family had been cursed «too» everything. Too smart. Too fast. Too assured. Too dark. There in the darkness of the cave, deep beneath the ground, holding the ice-cold body of his lifemate, he admitted the truth to himself.