Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 142916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
As long as she talked with her mother, she could keep the wild grief at bay. The familiar tea ritual and the beloved kitchen with all its memories helped to distance the terrible need to call to Benedek. She feared if she did call to him and he didn’t answer, she would dissolve into a puddle of grief on the floor. That would be too humiliating to bear.
Silke needed Benedek to view her as a strong partner. He was an exceptionally strong man. She needed his respect to be able to live with him. She couldn’t imagine, if she succumbed to the feeling of sorrow when he’d warned her it was false, that he would admire and respect her. He’d view her as weak. She would view herself that way.
Fenja poured tea into two cups and added honey. She cut slices of cheese and placed berry jam and a small piece of honeycomb beside the cheese and flat crackers on a tray. Setting the tray on the island in front of Silke, she indicated the food.
Silke’s stomach lurched. She turned her face away from the tray with her favorite type of cheese, crackers and homemade jam. The sight of it made her feel sick. She’d woken with no appetite and barely managed to drink water. She had hoped tea would be soothing, but now the mixture of aromas seemed to cause her stomach to rebel.
“You need to keep up your strength, Silke. Eat something. I know it will be difficult, but I want you to try.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Silke admitted reluctantly. It was one more thing she couldn’t seem to overcome, and it bothered her. “Mama, if becoming a Carpathian makes me weak, it won’t be a good thing. I feel as if I’m much weaker, not stronger, after one blood exchange. If I’m like this now, what will I feel when we have our second exchange? He’ll be expecting my cooperation, and I did give my word.”
“Communication is always vital in any relationship,” Fenja reminded. “In one such as yours, with completely different cultures, it is even more so. Talk to him. Voice your concerns. Allow him to know what you’re thinking and feeling so he can explain precisely what is happening to your body.”
“I’m afraid he’ll view me as too weak to be a full partner if I can’t handle this. We’re just at the beginning.” She cupped both hands around the warmth of the teacup. “It’s appalling to me that I can’t handle a separation from him. I can’t even eat or drink without him. What does that say about me?”
“It says you’re human and courageous enough to enter his world, one you don’t yet understand, but you’re trying to for him. Benedek is man enough to see that and respect you all the more for it,” Fenja assured.
From the time she’d opened her eyes, her hearing, always astounding, was even more acute. Her vision had improved significantly. Her sense of smell had more than doubled. She wanted to attribute her lack of desire for food to that but knew better. Benedek’s blood had enhanced her senses.
As far back as she could remember, she had always been able to see into others. When she was a child attending school, she was able to read the other children. She knew who lied. She knew their emotions. She became adept at it as a teenager. At the time, she didn’t realize she was perfecting the art of slipping in and out of mind merges. It just began to happen. Once she realized what she was doing, she practiced, mostly on animals, insects and birds. Then it was the mythical creatures in the forest. When she knew she could keep her energy low enough that she wouldn’t tip anyone off, she began to practice on humans and even Tora.
Silke studied her mother’s face. As she sipped her tea, she appeared calm. Serene. Sincere. She was none of those things. Fenja was anxious because Silke was unable to eat or drink anything, and that bothered her more than her daughter grieving for a man who wasn’t dead.
Very carefully she brought the teacup to her mouth. She forced herself to remember the taste and aroma and how good it was. The tea had always been calming. Soothing. She made it for clients when they came to her agitated and distressed. Her lips touched the rim, and she tilted the cup gently to sip at the contents. Her stomach lurched, and she feared she would start gagging.
Fenja watched her with the all-seeing eyes of a mother. Her dismay grew, casting shadows in the room. Silke glanced out the window to view the flowers and shrubs surrounding their home. A slight breeze had petals and leaves dipping and swaying as if dancing. She wished she could plunge her hands into the soil and connect with the earth.