Feehan Christine: Dark Song

She was his lifemate. More, she had spent centuries tuned to the slightest nuance of her master’s voice. His body language. His breathing. “You do want that for me, but you do not want that for you.” It was utterly daring of her to state what she knew to be truth aloud, to basically contradict him. Had she done so with Sergey, it would have earned her such a beating she wouldn’t have been able to move for a month. Maybe she was testing Ferro’s limit. The truth of his rules.

To her utter astonishment, he nuzzled her shoulder, turning his face into her neck, his breath warm against her wildly pounding pulse. “I am ancient, Elisabeta, and more, I have always thought my woman would obey my every wish. That is what you see in my mind. Having seen what this vile creature has done to my lifemate, I am determined that the two of us will learn more modern ways. We will not be as the others living in this compound, perhaps. We will find our own union, but we will not be as I envisioned long ago, because I no longer want that for either of us.”

She turned his statement over and over in her mind. He was willing to change. To grow into someone different. She had to find the courage to do the same. She took a deep breath. “I would very much like to see the dresses, um . . .” What was she supposed to call him? How was she supposed to address him?

“Ferro,” he supplied. “I am your wedded spouse. You will call me Ferro.”

She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. He was her wedded spouse. He’d said the ritual binding words and there was no going back from that. Not ever. He’d tied them together for all eternity. For whatever the reasons, they were bound together.

“Say it, piŋe sarnanak , say my name. I wish to hear how it sounds coming from your lips.” His mouth was against her ear, his breath warm, teasing, wreaking havoc with the blood in her veins.

Elisabeta wasn’t certain she wanted to call him by his given name. “Ferro,” she said softly. “But you call me piŋe sarnanak . I think you are kont o sívanak , strong heart, and this songbird will learn to fly because you have a heart big enough for both of us.” She felt very daring to tell him what she was thinking.

Deep inside, she was desperate for it to be true. They were lifemates and she could look into his mind, but she wasn’t brave enough for that yet, nor was she strong enough, if he deliberately kept her out, to push beyond any shield. She had learned, over the centuries, to do so with Sergey, but subtly, so he was unaware. She had the feeling that Ferro would always be aware.

His teeth tugged at her earlobe and then released her just as abruptly, but not before the sudden gentle bite caused a spasm in her sex that sent a shock wave through her entire body.

“Take a look at these dresses. Lorraine, lifemate to my brethren Andor, had several books she called catalogues she allowed me to look through for clothing styles. She has been very helpful.”

Elisabeta tried not to stiffen at the underlying affectionate note she heard in his voice. Up until that moment, Ferro had little expression in his voice. It was by turns gentle or soft or commanding, but there was definite affection for this woman. Another woman. Not his lifemate. She didn’t like it.

His hand waved in the air and two dresses floated in front of her. She tried not to gasp, but—well—they were just a little bit formfitting. She had rarely been seen by anyone other than Sergey, and then he had covered her body in shapeless gowns. She’d never worn anything like either one of them. It wasn’t that they wouldn’t cover her adequately—they weren’t low in the front, they went to her ankles, and both had three-quarter-length sleeves—but they weren’t the shapeless, boxy dresses she was used to wearing.

One was a soft shade of cool forest green with accents of a lighter green in blocks on the bodice and skirt, the material thin and clingy, so she knew it would emphasize her curves. She was thin, and not all that curvy, so maybe her bones would show more than her curves, but it was still a little risqué.

The second dress was black with gray accents. It was also made of a soft material she’d never seen before. The bodice came to a vee at the waist and the skirt dropped in a series of lacy ruffles to the ankles. It was the bodice that gave her pause or she would have chosen it immediately. She wasn’t certain how comfortable she would be in a dress that clung to her body that closely.

Ferro didn’t hurry her. He waited patiently. In fact, he seemed more interested in her hair and the nape of her neck than he did the dresses and her dilemma. He kept distracting her with his breath, with his lips moving against her pulse, with the way his fingers on her skin and scalp felt, until she was desperate to stop the unfamiliar feelings he flooded her body with.

“The black-and-gray one,” she said. “I’ll wear that one.”

“Excellent choice.”

His large hands spanned her waist and he lifted her off his lap and to her feet, setting her to one side. When he stood, he was fully clothed. He waved his hand and she found herself in the long black-and-gray dress. The material clung, just as she knew it would.

“You look beautiful, Elisabeta. Are you used to wearing shoes at all?”

She looked down at her feet and shook her head. “I was never allowed to leave the cage for any length of time.”

He waved his hand again. “If these shoes become uncomfortable you are to tell me immediately. That is an order. Am I clear on that?”

She nodded and looked down at the slipper sandals on her feet. They were black and gray to match the dress she wore. She had no idea what they were made of, but it didn’t feel like stiff leather. Whatever it was, they were comfortable, and she wiggled her toes. His hand brushed hers. She looked up at him expectantly.

“Take my hand, piŋe sarnanak ,” he said. “We’re going to walk around the compound together. I want to show you where everything is and where we’ll be staying.”

She blinked at him, trying to process what he’d just ordered her to do. What he’d just said. He wanted her to let him take her hand. He was going to walk with her and take her outside the safety of the healing grounds. Outside, where there were people. Walk. When she didn’t know how. She swallowed hard and tried to remember the mechanics. She’d seen it enough times. She was intelligent. She could shuffle along.

“Ferro . . .”

He reached for her hand, curling his fingers around hers, bringing her palm to his chest. “You will be with me, Elisabeta, and therefore safe at all times. My brethren will be close, and they will protect you as well. Julija, your friend, is here with her lifemate. Lorraine, my sister-kin, is here and anxious to befriend you.”

She remained frozen, staring up at him, too terrified to move. He brought her fingers to the warmth of his mouth, his strong teeth scraping the very ends of them, sending spirals of heat dancing through her veins.

“If you become overwhelmed, just look to me. I will shield you. I am your lifemate, Elisabeta. Everyone we come across, including my brothers, will expect me to be old-world and overbearing.” He showed her his teeth again, this time looking for all the world like a predator. “We can communicate as we did earlier, just the two of us. You tell me what you need, and I will provide it. I do not expect you to suddenly, after centuries of captivity, know how to speak with strangers or handle situations unfamiliar to you. I am proud of you for just choosing to rise and face your lifemate. I am told I am quite intimidating.”

She glanced up at his face. He was walking her across the healing grounds toward the exit, not striding fast but setting a leisurely pace, enough that she could slide her feet, one in front of the other, not lifting them, her heart beating as if it might fall out of her chest. His tone invited her to find amusement in his statement. She wished she could laugh, but she was too scared. Still, just having him so close gave her courage. Thus far, Ferro had shown her nothing but kindness. She had to believe he would continue to do so.