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I will love and admire you more. Do as I command of you, little songbird. Give me time to look upon the crimes this vampire committed against my beloved. It is necessary for a man such as me. I have waited for you to tell me, but realized it would be impossible for you to do so. I am not asking you, sívamet; I am telling you. This is something I need and must have.

It was impossible for Elisabeta not to obey. She had been conditioned by centuries of obedience, but he had called her his heart in that voice that could turn her inside out. She kept her eyes closed and turned her mind to studying the little female screech owl, focusing her attention on the small details she might miss if she ever became distracted.

She hadn’t thought about how a vampire might hear her calling back to her mate and realize her notes weren’t exact. It would be a small detail, such as a single wrong note, that would give her away and, in doing so, her lifemate. The things he was teaching her weren’t just for fun; they could well be the difference between life and death.

Ferro’s owl’s call was beautiful. He showed her the muted trill of the male’s hoo, hoo, hoo that sped up at the end but always maintained a continuous pitch. Sometimes he sang to his female a different song, one of double trills, a much more rapid burst. He had a soft croon when greeting and an excited bark. During mating season, their duet included a trembling note, a rapid tremolo call from the male, answered by a short tremolo from the female. The two owls sang a duet together and she practiced her part in her mind over and over for every season.

Ferro had a beautiful voice and often sang to her when she was upset. She loved their song. He added verses to it each rising, soothing her when she was so afraid. Now, his male owl sang to her female with that beautiful wild call, soothing and calm to his lady the way Ferro was to her. He was such a rock, an anchor in the worst storm. He didn’t make her feel as if it was only that she belonged to him; he made her feel as if he belonged to her, that it was mutual.

The male owl was that same rock to his female. They protected each other and their nest fiercely, even against humans, creatures much larger than they. She studied every aspect of the owl’s life that she could find in Ferro’s mind. She had been in the female owl and she drew on what she had found there as well.

Elisabeta had no real idea how much time had passed when Ferro suddenly yanked her into his arms, startling her with his aggression. He held her to him, nearly crushing her, his palm pressing the back of her head tight into him, so her ear was over his wildly beating heart.

“Elisabeta. Beloved. What you suffered to protect me.”

She tilted her face up to look at him. Bloodred tears dripped from his eyes and her heart nearly stopped. She couldn’t take his sorrow. At once she swamped him with soothing harmony, surrounded him with love, with everything she was, giving him all that she knew how to give. She wrapped her arms around him and held him just as tightly, closing her eyes and breathing for both of them, willing his heart to find the slower, steady beat of hers.

Ferro held her for a long time, rocking them both gently, while Elisabeta continued to keep them entwined together in a cocoon of peace. She didn’t speak, not knowing what to say. In her wildest imaginings she never would have expected her legendary warrior to care enough to shed the bloodred tears of their kind for her. That kind of sorrow and respect was reserved for greatness.

She didn’t know how to react. This was Ferro. Her lifemate. She felt panic-stricken. She had no one to tell her what to do, only her instincts. His hands stroked caresses in her hair, and every now and then she felt his lips brush kisses on top of her head. There was such an intimacy that had nothing at all to do with sex, straddling him, her body crushed against him, rocking with him, their hearts beating together.

Elisabeta felt such a part of him. She’d been terrified for him to see her past, the terrible choices the vampire had forced on her, and yet now she felt closer to him than ever before. Each time she feared Ferro’s reaction, he always came through, teaching her to trust. Not everyone was cruel like Sergey, certainly not her lifemate.

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Dark Song
Dark Song

Two Carpathians find hope in the bond that ties their souls in this passionate novel in Christine Feehan's #1 New York Times bestselling series.Stolen from her home at a young age and tormented for centuries, Elisabeta Trigovise is scared to show herself to anyone. Even though she has been rescued and is now safe within the Carpathian compound, she has lived in fear for so long she has no idea how to survive without it. She wants to answer the siren call of her lifemate--but the very thought terrifies her.Before he found Elisabeta, Ferro Arany was an ancient warrior without emotion. Now that his senses have come alive, he knows it will take more than kind words and soft touches to convince the fractured woman that they are partners, not master and prisoner. For now, he will give her his strength until she finds hers, allowing the steady rhythm of his heart to soothe Elisabeta's fragile soul.But even as she learns to stand on her own, the vampire who kept her captive is desperate to claim her again, threatening the song Elisabeta and Ferro are writing together.Praise for Christine Feehan: 'After Bram Stoker, Anne Rice and Joss Whedon, Christine Feehan is the person most credited with popularizing the neck gripper' Time'Feehan has a knack for bringing vampiric Carpathians to vivid, virile life in her Dark Carpathian novels' Publishers Weekly'The erotic, gripping series that's defined an entire genre! Must reading that always satisfies!' J.R. Ward'The queen of paranormal romance' USA Today

Кристин Фихан

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