Christine Feehan - Dark Dream (Dark Series - book 7)

seen

him take blood, his fangs buried deep in a human neck. It didn’t matter how familiar he looked; he wasn’t human, and he was very, very dangerous.

Falcon allowed her to move away from him. He watched her carefully as he struggled for control. His fangs receded in his mouth, but his body was a hard, unrelenting ache. “If I planned on harming you, Sara, why would I wait? You are the safest human being on the face of this planet, because you are the one I would give my life to protect.”

I am Falcon and I will never know you, but I have left this gift behind for you, a gift of the heart.

Sara closed her eyes tightly, pressed a hand to her trembling mouth. She could taste him, feel him; she

wanted

him. How could she be such a traitor to her family? The ghosts in her mind wailed loudly, condemning her. Their condemnation didn’t stop her body from throbbing with need, or stop the heat moving through her blood like molten lava.

“I felt you,” she accused, the tremors running through her body a result of his lethal kiss more than fear of his lethal fangs. She had almost wanted him to pierce her. For one moment her heart had been still as if it had waited all eternity for something only he could give her. “You were so close to taking my blood.”

“But I am not human, Sara,” he replied softly, gently, his dark eyes holding a thousand secrets. His head was unbowed, unshamed by his dark cravings. He was a strong, powerful being, a man of honor. “Taking blood is natural to me, and you are my other half. I am sorry I frightened you. You would have found it erotic, not distasteful, and you would not have come to any harm.”

She hadn’t been afraid of him. She had been afraid of herself. Afraid she would want him so much the wails of her family would fade from her mind and she would never find a way to bring their killer to justice. Afraid the monster would find a way to destroy Falcon if she gave in to her own desires. Afraid to reach for something she had no real knowledge of. Afraid it would be sinfully and wonderfully erotic.

For my beloved lifemate, my heart and my soul. This is my gift to you.

It was his beautiful words that had captured her heart for all time. Her soul did cry out for his. It didn’t matter that she had seen those red flames of madness in his eyes. In spite of the danger, his words bound them together with thousands of tiny threads.

“How is it you came to be here in Romania? You are American, are you not?” She was very nervous, and Falcon wanted to find a safe subject, something that would ease the sexual tension between them. He needed a respite from the urgent demands of his body every bit as much as Sara needed her space. He was touching her mind lightly, could hear the echoes of her family demanding justice.

Sara could have listened to his voice forever. In awe, she touched her mouth, which was still tingling-from the pressure of his. He had such a perfect mouth and such a killer kiss. She closed her eyes briefly and savored the taste of him still on her tongue. She knew what he was doing, distracting her from the overwhelming sexual tension, from her own very justified fears. But she was grateful to him for it. “I’m American,” she admitted. “I was born in San Francisco, but we moved around a lot. I spent a great deal of time in Boston. Have you ever been there?” Her breath was still fighting to find its way into her lungs and she dragged in air, only to take the scent of him deep within her body.

“I have never traveled to the United States but I hope that we will do so in the future. We can travel to my homeland together and see my Prince and his lifemate before we travel to your country.” Falcon deliberately slowed his heart and lungs, taking the lead to get their bodies, both raging for release, back under control.

“A Prince? You want me to go with you to meet your Prince?” In spite of everything, Sara found herself smiling. She couldn’t imagine herself meeting a Prince. The entire evening seemed something out of a fantasy, a dark dream she was caught in.

“Mikhail Dubrinsky is our Prince. I knew his father, Vladimir, before him, but I have not had the privilege of meeting Mikhail in many years.” Not for over a thousand years. “Tell me how you came to be here, Sara,” he prompted softly. The Prince was not entirely a safe subject. If Sara began thinking too much about what he was, she would immediately leap to the correct conclusion that Mikhail, the Prince of his people, was also of Falcon’s species. Human, yet not human. It was the last thing he wanted her to dwell on.

“I saw a television special about children in Romania being left in orphanages. It was heartrending. I have a huge trust fund, far more money than I’ll ever use. I knew I had to come here and help them if I could. I couldn’t get the picture of those poor babies out of my mind. It took great planning to get over to this country and to establish myself here. I was able to find this house and start making connections.”

She traced the paths of the raindrops on the window with her fingertip. Something in the way she did it made his body tighten to the point of pain. She was intensely provocative without knowing it. Her voice was soft in the night, a melancholy melody accompanied by the sounds of the storm outside. Every word that emerged from her beautiful mouth, the way her body moved, the way her fingertips traced the raindrops entranced him until he could think of nothing else. Until his body ached and his soul cried out and the demon in him struggled for supremacy.

“I worked for a while in the orphanages, and it seemed an endless task—not enough medical supplies, not enough people to care for and comfort the babies. Some were so sick it was impossible to help them. I thought there was little hope of really helping. I was trying to establish connections to move adoption proceedings along quicker when I met a woman, someone who, like me, had seen the television special and had come here to help. She introduced me to a man who showed me the sewer children.” Sara pushed at her gleaming sable hair until it tumbled in spiky curls and waves all over her head. The light glinted off each strand, making Falcon long to touch the silky whorls. There was a terrible pounding in his head, a relentless hammering in his body.

“The children you whistled a warning to tonight.” He tried not think about how enticing she looked when she was disheveled. It was all he could do not to tunnel his hands deep in the thick softness and find her mouth again with his. She paced restlessly across the room, her lush curves drawing his dark gaze like a magnet. The thin tank top was ivory, and her nipples were dark and inviting beneath the sheath of silk. The breath seemed to leave his body all at once, and he was hard and hot and uncomfortable with a need bordering on desperation.

“Well, of course those were only a few of them. They are excellent little pickpockets.” Sara flashed a grin at him before turning to stare once again out the window into the pouring rain. “I tried to get them to turn in earlier, before dark, because it’s even more dangerous on the street at night, but if they don’t bring back a certain amount, they can be in terrible trouble.” She sighed softly. “They have a minicity underground. It’s a dangerous life; the older ones rule the younger and they have to band together to stay safe. It isn’t easy winning their confidence or even helping them. Anything you give them could easily get them killed. Someone might murder them for a decent shirt.” She turned to look over her shoulder at him. “I can’t stay in one place too long, so I knew I could never really help the children the way they needed.”

There was a sense of sadness clinging to her, yet she was not looking for pity. Sara accepted her life with quiet dignity. She made her choices and lived with them. She stood there with the window behind her, the rain falling softly, framing her like a picture. Falcon wanted to enfold her in his arms and hold her for eternity.