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)
“Mother.” Silke pressed her hands to her rosy cheeks. “Seriously. Stop. You’re making me sound like I’m two. Benedek is here to examine you and see if he can help your physical state. I know you’ve said your body is wearing out. I accept that, but I would feel much better knowing you’re as comfortable as possible. I’m asking you to please allow Benedek to aid you.”
Fenja was silent for a moment looking at her daughter, her expression soft with love. Benedek might not know how to feel that emotion, but he recognized it when he saw it so plainly. It moved him when nothing over the centuries ever had. He had never considered the genuine love a mother would feel for her child.
He’d never known that kind of love. Not ever. He hadn’t known it existed.
“I have no doubt your birth mother loved you, Benedek,” Silke said aloud. Her tone was low, but very certain. “You may not have those memories, but you have a code of honor and great capacity to care, or you wouldn’t be the hunter you are.”
His gut clenched. Knotted. Where that well of rage was hidden beneath the ice-cold glacier, he felt his fury stir. He wasn’t the man she insisted she could see. Even with her influence, he doubted he would ever feel much for others. He trusted very few people. His trust was hard-won.
“Don’t think I have a great capacity to care, o jelä sielamak. You will only end up disappointed in your choice. See me as I am, not how you wish me to be.”
“I am in your mind, Benedek,” she reminded. “I see into you and read you, perhaps better than you read yourself. You tend to push all emotion aside, so you think you don’t feel it, but you do. You simply don’t acknowledge what you’re feeling. I suspect most Carpathian hunters are like you in that they don’t recognize their emotions.”
“Perhaps emotions are buried so deep you can’t find them, the way you can’t find the memory of your birth parents,” Fenja ventured.
Benedek shook his head, uncomfortable with the discussion. Any reference to his birth parents, even discussions he’d had in the monastery, made him uneasy. Guilty. Ashamed even. As a toddler, he had believed Marius was his father and Fawn was his mother. He had tried hard to be a good child so they would love him. It hadn’t occurred to him when he was a baby that they were damaged. That revelation came much later, when he was approaching his teenage years, and he’d given up pleasing Fawn. He had come to recognize the madness in her. It had taken longer with Marius. That disclosure came when he saw the brutal attacks and horrific demands on the villagers.
“You aren’t responsible for their deaths,” Silke said.
“Don’t go there.” He poured a firm command into his voice. His rasp was more pronounced than ever, a clue to his inner turmoil. Any of the brethren could have told her the raspier his voice, the more dangerous he became.
“Am I responsible for the death of my mother in childbirth? Had she not gotten pregnant with me, she would still be alive.”
Silke ignored his low warning. She had to be in his mind, witnessing the rising fury beneath all the glacier, but she persisted in ignoring his command.
“Make me understand how you could have possibly been responsible for them. I truly don’t see it.”
Why are you insisting on this discussion when I clearly have made the topic off-limits? He narrowed his eyes at her. You don’t want to hear your mother is close to death, he accused. You’re like a child refusing to acknowledge the cycle of life, and to do that, you want to use me, use a very sensitive subject, to get your way.
The minute he flung the ridiculous accusation at her, he knew he’d screwed up in a big way. He felt the flash of anger before her instant withdrawal. The room almost glowed red, the tension thick. She sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
He should have apologized instantly. He knew he was in the wrong, but she was just far too gorgeous and intriguing with that little spurt of temper. She couldn’t be perfect to live with him, yet she was exactly that—perfect. Everything about her appealed to him.
That was uncalled-for and disrespectful when you know I was trying to help you. Maybe I should have backed off when you told me to, but I didn’t deserve a nasty remark like that.
Benedek liked that she stood up to him. It would matter later in their relationship. He would never be able to handle a partner who didn’t think for herself or stand up for her convictions.
You’re right, o jelä sielamak, I was out of line. There is no excuse, so I won’t try to make one. I’ll work at being better. He was sincere in that promise and hoped she could see and hear his honesty.