Dark Song – Dark Carpathians Read online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 165649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 828(@200wpm)___ 663(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
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“I don’t want any of them to feel as if I am rejecting them, especially Julija. She has gotten me through so much. Without her I wouldn’t have made it,” Elisabeta confessed in a small voice. She still kept her face tucked against his chest to keep from looking at the open spaces around them.

“I will tell them you are not ready yet and I have forbidden any contact at this time.”

At that, she pulled her head free from his shirt and looked up at him, her eyes searching his. He could see a breathless kind of hope on her face. Again, he couldn’t stop himself. He bent his head and brushed his lips over each eyelid before he lifted her in his arms, cradling her close to him.

I am taking Elisabeta to our home. She will not be visiting at this time.

He sent the decree on the pathway forged between the monastery brethren rather than the common Carpathian pathway. Sergey Malinov had once been a Carpathian and he would have access to that pathway. If, for some reason, there was a breach in their safeguards, there would be no chance that the master vampire would know Elisabeta had risen from the healing grounds.

The women have been waiting for some time to speak with your lifemate, Ferro, Isai said. There was no inflection in his voice. Not even one of protest.

Ferro. Lorraine had no problems objecting. You can’t keep her to yourself. This isn’t the Neanderthal days.

Ferro didn’t bother to answer. He gathered his lifemate into his arms and took to the sky. She muffled a startled cry and clutched his shirt, her face once more buried tight against his chest.

Did the vampire transport you through the air? He must have had you fly.

No. I would wake up in new places.

Ferro was not used to the emotion gathering in the pit of his belly, a dark ugly rage that simmered like an explosive volcano slowly gathering force. He breathed through it and let it go. Rage had no place in his life. Malinov was going to pay for the crimes he’d committed against the Carpathian people, and against Ferro’s lifemate, but his death would come from a place of justice as Ferro had been delivering for centuries. There was no other way.

He took his lifemate to the house his brethren had purchased for him, a property that had been added to the growing acreage of the protected compound. The site was nestled in between Isai and Julija’s property and Andor and Lorraine’s land. The hills were gently rolling and the land had groves of trees on it and, more importantly, water that added to the colors of all the various plants scattered around the property.

The house had been built by a famous architect, at least that was what Andor had told him, a man whose vision was to keep the landscape so pristine that the house would be difficult to see until one actually walked up to it. Andor and Lorraine had also bought property with a home designed by the same man. Ferro had viewed the property and home with an eye toward defense, escape and the ability to get to the ground undetected from anywhere above the house.

Now, as he brought his lifemate to the Spanish-looking home, he thought he should have consulted with the women to see if the house met with their standards. Elisabeta would entertain her friends there, make a life there. She might sleep beneath the master bedroom, but she would live within those walls. He set her feet very gently on the wide verandah, his hands on her waist to steady her.

3

There’s light in the darkness, waiting to be seen;

Just as I wait for you, a king for his queen.

Open your eyes, piŋe sarnanak,” Ferro said in his soft, commanding voice.

Elisabeta took a deep breath and forced herself to obey. She liked his voice, and no matter how afraid she was of her new life and the huge terrifying changes, so far, although things had been overwhelming and emotional, they had all been good. She loved that he called her “little songbird” or, even better, “his little songbird.” Those variations created a strange new feeling in her, an affection that seemed to be growing the more she was with him.

She found herself looking at a tall massive door to a house. Ferro stood directly behind her, his hands at her waist, holding her close to him. She was grateful for his presence. She had no idea why they were standing on that cool, wide verandah, but suddenly her heart was beginning to accelerate again. Something new. Something she was going to have to learn.

“Ferro.” She whispered his name in a kind of protest.

“No one is here. Just the two of us.”

“It is too big.” It was. The door was gigantic. For Ferro it wasn’t, because he was a big man. His shoulders were wide, and he would go through that door so easily, but she was thin and felt insignificant. The door was tall and wide and seemed enormous to her. What could it possibly lead to?


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