Dark Song

17

Ferro sang his song to wake his lifemate, to bring her to him. He had woken, his first thoughts of her, his woman, his true purpose now, where before his life had been consumed by hunting—and killing the vampire. Now, the first awareness was of Elisabeta. The joy of her. The compassion in her. The soft sweetness of her. Just . . . Elisabeta.

She had become his everything. His center. His world. He had always held such a misconception of lifemates. Maybe it was just him—or perhaps all males did. He had never thought to ask Isai or Andor what they had considered before they found Julija or Lorraine. Ferro had believed he would be Elisabeta’s center and she would devote herself completely to him. He would carry out his work hunting the vampire and return to her when he was able. It had never occurred to him that the power of lifemates meant he would never want to be without her. Again, it was possible that it was Elisabeta’s power over him.

The moment he was aware, even before he opened his eyes, he felt joy in just being. In the miracle of knowing she existed. He found her to be the most amazing, multifaceted creature on the face of the earth. She held so much talent, so many gifts, was so giving and yet was so selfless and thought so little of herself or for herself. She was a complex, wonderful puzzle he knew he would never completely understand in the time they had to share together.

He had hunted for fresh blood, taking enough for both of them, as he did each rising. There would come a time soon when he would have to teach her to be more self-sufficient, but there were so many other lessons, and she was pushed to her limit as it was. She never protested, but he could feel her struggling at times and he felt he walked that fine line of trying to shield her and letting her take those steps on her own.

Ferro opened the ground for her and met her there, his arms welcoming. The moment Elisabeta floated to him, her body tight against his, he took her to their forest, where he knew she was the happiest. Without the modern confines of a house and the pressures of trying to figure out furniture and entertaining, they could just be Ferro and Elisabeta, lifemates, learning about each other and enjoying the process. They had this one rising before they would have to once again serve their people. This time was theirs.

Elisabeta wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled him, the feel of her mouth against his skin exquisite. The softness of her breasts pressing tightly to him as she took his blood added to the sheer intimacy of the erotic feeding. He had taken blood over centuries and given it, but nothing had prepared him for taking from or giving to his lifemate. She made his blood rush hotly in his veins to pool wild and thick in his groin. He savored the feeling and always would, never taking it for granted after so many centuries without her.

He pushed back her dark hair, needing to see her beloved face, her high cheekbones, her large eyes and those lush lashes. He had memorized every detail of her, but each rising he marveled at her beauty. It seemed impossible to hold the exact feel of how soft she was, or how feminine her form truly felt against his no matter how many times he took those images into his mind and etched them there.

Ferro. You think these things and I do not know how to process them. The healing saliva closed the pinpricks, her tongue sliding over his neck in a velvet, sensual rasp. She slowly sat up, blinking up at him with a faint smile on her face.

His woman. She was still uncertain what she really meant to him. She had so long been made to believe that she was worthless. It was difficult for her to really understand his feelings even when she was merged with him.

He bent his head to take her mouth. Those lips of hers. So tempting. How could he possibly resist? I think those things because they are true, minan piŋe sarnanak. It would be impossible for me to do without you. You really are my world.

That mouth of hers. Hotter than hell. Igniting a firestorm in him—in her, in them—until it burned so out of control neither could think clearly. Kissing her took him to another realm, one he hadn’t known existed. Fire burned through him, flames licking along his spine, dancing over his skin, over their skin. Little sparks of electricity arced between them.

They had to stop before he couldn’t. He knew it was getting more difficult for him every rising, not claiming his woman. He didn’t want her to come to him for the wrong reasons—and she would. That would be so like Elisabeta, putting his needs before her own. Throughout the centuries they would spend together, he would always have to check himself that he didn’t take advantage of her giving nature.

He broke off the kiss reluctantly, clothing both of them as he stood, setting her on her feet, right on the narrow deer path just at the edge of the meadow.

“Ferro?” Elisabeta touched her lips with slightly trembling fingers. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything is right, sívamet. Too right. You are very difficult to resist.” He took her hand and began to walk along the trail with her, deeper into the woods. “I want you to pay attention to every detail around you. You are very good at that. You have to have every image in your mind so that you can reproduce each detail when you need it. That will be essential when we lay our traps this next rising.”

She moistened her lips, her gaze shifting up to his face. “Our traps?”

He nodded and pulled her closer, matching her shorter steps. “Cornel has devised a plan to attack the nightclub. He plans to let loose an army of their servants, all hungry for fresh blood, a diversion to acquire young Josef for them. And you for Sergey. We do not want to lose any humans to their army of servants. We have called our own army to combat them. You are our secret weapon against them, Elisabeta. And you are my secret weapon against Sergey.”

She walked beside him in silence, her back and shoulders straight. His woman, up to the challenge. Thoughtful. “Sergey is very dangerous. Cunning. Never forget that he has slivers of each of his brothers residing in his brain. If that is not enough to beware of, he also has two of Xavier, the high mage.”

“Does he know how to access their aid without you?” Ferro asked, keeping the inquiry gentle. It was always a sore subject whenever he brought up just how much Elisabeta had helped Sergey against his brothers over the years. She didn’t really understand that her own nature had betrayed her. It was impossible for her to watch the victim of cruelty suffer, no matter if that person was good or bad themselves. She was compelled by her nature to help them.

“I have never seen him do so. He has a disconnect in his mind with certain things, especially anything to do with magic or psychic abilities beyond Carpathian skills. His safeguards were always the weakest of the brothers’. They were always extremely cruel to him over his safeguards.”

“And you aided him?”

Elisabeta nodded. “I had to be careful when I was teaching him to weave more strands because he would get so angry when he couldn’t do it. I felt bad that I made him feel less intelligent. I didn’t mean to. I spent time studying how he learned things. Once I knew, it was so much easier to teach him things.”

The entire time they walked along the narrow winding path in the deeper forest that moved around and between trees, he could see she was scanning both sides of the path and noting every tree and bush along the way. She didn’t seem to miss anything even though the conversation they were having was obviously important.

“You taught him every one of his safeguards? He has never made up any of his own?”

“No. He is incapable of straying from utterly basic safeguards or the more intricate ones I taught him. He normally used those to keep his brothers and cousins away from his sleeping chambers. He was always paranoid, with good reason, that they might want him dead.”

“Did they want him dead?”

“Yes, they thought him the weakest link.”

“And without you, he was.”

She nodded. “I made certain that he became an asset to them, without making them feel as if he was in any way a threat to them. It was a difficult balance and I made mistakes. His ego, especially when they made fun of him, could make him especially cruel. He had to believe he was the one outsmarting them. It is strange that over the centuries I lost sight of that. I began to believe he was the one who was so powerful on his own.”

“Sergey had to know it was you.”

“He knew, but that made him angrier and more resentful. I suppose that was why he set out to convince me I was worthless to him.”

Ferro realized just what a terrible balancing act Elisabeta always had to have with Sergey. He would want to feel as powerful as his brothers. He had been a mean, cruel boy, killing animals in the forest and then, later, human children, preying on those weaker than himself in order to bolster his belief that he was every bit as formidable as his brothers. He was just cunning enough to hide his sickness from those adults around him in order to keep them from destroying him.

His father was off hunting vampires, preoccupied with his life. In those days, parents often paid little attention to the children as they reached the older ages. Other Carpathians took over training. A boy like Sergey could easily slip through the cracks. He would become a loner, going into the forest to carry out his ugliness while his much more intelligent brothers held the spotlight.

“He was close to his sister, Ivory. She protected him from much of the teasing from his older brothers. I think she softened it so it sounded less cruel and more affectionate. They were often together. When she disappeared, he was devastated. Even that was seen by his brothers as weakness. They wanted him to hate the prince, to turn on him as they had. To blame Vlad for her disappearance. Sergey blamed himself for not looking after her. The crueler his brothers were to him, the more that sickness in his mind came out and he started that ugly behavior, going into the forest and hurting animals and then children.”

There was compassion in her mind for the lost soul of Sergey Malinov and for all those he tortured and destroyed over the long centuries he lived. She was incapable of feeling loathing for him or any other. There was no such thing as hatred in her makeup. She sought to prevent Sergey from feeling the need to hurt others. On some level she simply couldn’t understand that driving compulsion in him and others like him to watch others suffer.

“You are certain Sergey will only use safeguards you have taught him to weave, then?” Ferro reiterated.

“I am very certain,” Elisabeta said.

“I think we have gone far enough,” Ferro decided. “Have you memorized the entire pathway?”

Elisabeta looked around her and nodded. “I believe so.”

He framed her face and kissed her again, just because there was no resisting her, especially not there in their forest. “Of course you have. We need to put in a little time with shifting fast, piŋe sarnanak. I know you have no objections to that.” She particularly loved shifting and flying and she’d become very adept at it.

“Right here?” There was a touch of eagerness in her voice.

They were in deep forest and he had always had her shift near the edge of the meadow. It was much more dangerous with trees close together and branches overlapping. They had practiced flying through the forest, but they’d stayed within the trees on the outskirts just ringing the meadow.

“Yes. I believe you are more than ready for shifting and flying through the interior of the woods. We will start out slow, Elisabeta.” He couldn’t help pouring caution and command into his voice. It was always dangerous in the smaller confines of the trees. One mistake and it would be easy to suffer an injury—or worse. He knew Elisabeta had the skills. She was too detail-oriented not to. She hadn’t missed a single thing he’d shown or told her since he’d started with any of their lessons, and she loved flying.

“I want you to be able to move very fast through these woods, whether it be on foot, as an owl or in any other way you have to do it,” he added. “We’ve gone through them. This is our home. Our haven. It is where both of us feel safest.”

Dark suspicion crept into her mind and then her eyes but she refrained from voicing a single question, nor did she go into his head as she could have to read what his intentions were. Elisabeta’s brain was sharp and moved fast, figuring out what he planned. He didn’t want her to be afraid, not for herself or for him or anyone else. To distract her, he pointed to the upper branches of the shortest tree.

“We are both going to start at the bend in the path, running and shifting as we go. You will have to rid yourself of clothes, hold the image of the owl in your head, every detail, and lift yourself into the air all at the same time.”

They had practiced running and shifting in the meadow over and over, so he knew she could easily shed her clothes and become the owl. They’d also practiced the owl rising into the air and moving through the trees at the edge of the woods. Those trees were farther apart, but some branches were still interlocking. She had been extremely successful at that as well. Now, he wanted all the pieces put together because this might be life or death.

Ferro would stay merged with her so there would be no mistakes. He kept his hand firmly wrapped in hers as they walked to the bend in the very narrow pathway. The trail was no more than a deer path cut through the brush and trees, not really allowing for both of them to walk side by side. He had led the way so when he stopped and turned, she was ahead of him. He allowed her hand to slip from his.

Go, Elisabeta. Run. Shift. Fly. He pushed the commands into her mind.

She didn’t hesitate, taking off instantly. He was right behind her, stride for stride, his footsteps in hers, his breath on her neck. She was astonishingly fast. They had practiced repeatedly and he had noticed that she had improved every time, but she also went over and over the procedure in her mind until she was faster and better at it every time.

Her clothes were gone and she was already the small Western Screech Owl in the air, maneuvering through the low branches of the trees toward the one he had indicated he wanted her to come to rest on. She actually flew faster than he would have liked for their first time, but he didn’t distract her by admonishing her to slow down. She landed on the exact branch he had designated, digging her talons into the limb, her wings out to steady herself, and then folding them neatly into her sides. Ferro landed beside her.

That was amazing, Elisabeta. I am very proud of you. Terrified, but proud. She might need that speed. We will fly back to the bend at a much more leisurely pace and do it again.

He didn’t want to tire her out. She would need every ounce of strength when they went up against the army the Carpathians were certain they would be facing. This night was for them—perhaps the only one they would have. One never knew what the future would hold and he wanted time for them. It seemed they got very little for themselves.

He had her make the run two more times before he called a halt to her continuing lessons. She really didn’t need them. They were more for his peace of mind.

We do not have a lot of time to be alone together, Elisabeta, and I wish to spend what we have enjoying every moment with you. I share you with so many out of necessity, but I do prefer to have you to myself. This night is for us.

I prefer that as well, she admitted.

There was a sensual quality in her voice he’d never heard before, one that played over his skin in spite of being deep within the owl’s body. He was merged with her, mind to mind, and it was impossible not to feel the way she responded to him both physically and emotionally. He wanted her with every breath he drew, and it felt as if Elisabeta wanted him the same way.

They flew back to their favorite spot in the forest, just on the outer edge of the meadow but in the shadow of the trees. As they both shifted to their human forms, he waved his hand to provide them with the thickest of fur rugs. Nudity didn’t bother him and he preferred to look at her feminine form. If she was at all uncomfortable, he would provide her with clothing. Both could regulate their temperature without a problem, and if the weather proved unpredictable—and already a small storm had moved in—he could provide a transparent roof overhead.

The clouds swirled overhead, moving to cover the small slice of moon and blot out the stars. They would need that gathering storm and the more natural, the better. The Carpathians coming in to aid them from all directions were already doing so, hopefully unseen by any of Sergey’s spies. The breaking weather would definitely be helpful. A series of storms had been predicted over the next few risings, a good break for them. The Carpathians traveling their way would have adequate cover and hopefully, during the battle, they could utilize the storms as well.

Fingers of mist drifted across the meadow and through the trees. Ferro immediately provided a transparent roof so they could see the slow rolling clouds overhead and the first of the silvery drops as they began to fall from the sky. He laid back, stretching out, drawing Elisabeta with him, so both could look upward at the display. Her head rested on his shoulder, her body tucked in tight against his side. He was aware of her every curve. The softness of her form against the hardness of his.

“I never noticed how beautiful rain could be until this moment,” he admitted. “Instead of individual beads falling, each looks like a thin silver streak dropping out of the darkness. Each rising I find something new and amazing you have gifted me with.”

She turned her head to look up at him. “Ferro. You are the true gift. I have spent each rising for hundreds of years living in terror. Now, each is a joy, whether or not there is fear, because there is you.”

Elisabeta turned completely, her body sliding over his boldly so that she was blanketing him. Her hands framed his face. “Hän sívamak, you have my heart. Always, you have my heart.” She brushed kisses across his eyes and then down his face to the corner of his mouth.

Ferro’s body reacted with a hot rush of blood pounding through his veins, thundering in his ears, to center in his groin. She moved her hips subtly, rubbing against him, inflaming him further. She began to move down his body, kissing his chin and then his throat.

Ferro closed his eyes, his hands moving in her hair, stroking and massaging. He needed to be satisfied with what they had together already. She had come so far so fast. Asking any more of her was selfish, and she took him to heaven with that perfect mouth of hers every single rising.

Elisabeta lifted her head. “Ferro? What more? I catch needs in you that are fleeting, but those needs are very strong. I am your lifemate. I provide for you.”

He suppressed a groan. “You are providing for me. The things you do to me are beautiful, Elisabeta. What we do to one another is an expression of love.”

She studied his face for a long moment. “One expression of love. I see that in your mind. I also see other things as well. Intriguing things. I want to do those things with you, Ferro, not just one. All of them.”

His fist bunched in her hair. She could drive him right to the very edge of his control, and he had always thought himself extremely disciplined. He wanted everything he gave her, everything they did together, to be perfect for her. To be beautiful for her. “When you are ready, sívamet, we will do them.”

She pressed a kiss to his chest and then looked up again, her dark gaze colliding with his. “How do we know if I am ready if we do not ever try?”

Ferro’s heart stuttered. She was killing him. How was he going to protect her if she was going to lie on top of him, give him those innocent, seductress eyes and move her silken body over his already inflamed nerve endings, threatening to drive him past all sanity?

“Ferro?” She pressed kisses to his throat and chin. “I am asking you to show me. To teach me. I want everything with you. Everything there is.”

He stared up at her beloved face, love for her nearly overwhelming him. “Minan piŋe sarnanak, no woman will ever be as loved or as treasured as you.”

Very gently he rolled her over so that she was beneath him. He sat up slowly as he laid her out before him there on the softest of thick furs, not wanting anything to mar her pleasure, not a single twig, pebble, or even the swell of the ground. The feel of the fur as it rubbed against her sensitized skin would heighten her pleasure, not detract from it. He took his time looking down at her body, that perfect feminine form that was so outrageously different from his and yet fit so perfectly with his.

Elisabeta’s gaze clung to his, trust in her dark eyes. Love for her welled up, a tidal wave of emotion, shaking him as nothing in his long life ever had. He had never considered that he could ever feel such strong emotions, but the strength and depth of his love for her was almost beyond his comprehension. There were no real words to express that to her, so he simply opened his mind more fully to her to allow her to see what she meant to him.

He had been so careful to protect her from the emptiness of his past, from the disturbing battles and kills. She was too sensitive an empath, and there was no need for her to have to share his violent past, but she needed to see what she truly meant to him. She deserved that much. If she caught glimpses of other things, he hoped that didn’t diminish what he wanted to give her in this moment.

Tet vigyázam. He whispered the truth into her mind. Saying he loved her in their language. It was not enough, would never be enough, but it was all he had.

He stroked his hand lovingly from her throat, over her collarbone, down the soft swell of her breasts to her rib cage and belly, lower still to her mound and the dark curls covering treasure beyond any price, that secret haven meant for him. All the while he let himself drown in her dark eyes. Let her see how vulnerable he felt when they were alone together and he could show her how much she meant to him.

“Can you feel me, Elisabeta? Inside your mind? Merged with you? Loving you?”

She nodded, her gaze soft, melting. He felt the way she poured love into his mind. It was impossible not to feel her there, filling him, giving him everything she was, because that was her way. Elisabeta never held anything back when she made up her mind to give. For the first time, he had given her the same, letting her see she was his world.

“I want you to feel me inside you. In your body. Moving in you. Filling you with love. With me. I want our bodies to be one, just the way our minds are.”

He watched her eyes. Those eyes of hers that said so much, that were so poignant. If she was too afraid, he would see it there almost before he would know it in her mind. Her fear might be in her mind, but admittedly, when she didn’t know what to expect, she was often afraid but willing to try. But her eyes . . . They shared the same soul, and it would be there in her eyes that he would see the truth.

“If you are not ready, we will wait.” He would find the patience because she was worth the wait. “If it takes years, we will wait.” He let her see that he meant it. “Being with you is a gift I never really expected to have and it is greater than I ever thought possible. You bring me such joy, Elisabeta. Minan piŋe sarnanak, you truly hold my heart and soul in your hands.”

Elisabeta reached up and framed his face with her hands. “You are what I hold dear, Ferro. You are what I believe in. I wake with joy and look forward to each rising, wondering what new journey we will have together. You have taught me so many things already and I am always eager for each lesson. Sometimes I am afraid, that is true, but I trust you. Each time I have put my faith in you, you have come through for me, so my trust runs very deep. More than anything, I want to be wholly yours in every way.”

He could hear the ring of truth in her voice. Feel it in her mind. See it in her eyes. For Elisabeta to be able to trust anyone, let alone a Carpathian male, especially one as dominant and frightening as he knew he appeared, was a miracle in itself. The fact that she gave that trust to him each rising, each time he called her from her slumber and brought her from the healing earth to once more face new lessons that had to terrify her, humbled him beyond imagining.

Ferro bent his head to brush a kiss gently over her eyes and then her lips. His teeth bit down gently on her lower lip and then slipped over her chin to her throat. His hands were more possessive than he had ever allowed himself to be with her, sliding over her skin, claiming her body, gentle in his touch, but making it clear that she was his.

He kissed his way to the curve of her breast, found her left nipple and suckled there, drawing her soft flesh into the heat of his mouth and then using the edge of his teeth, making her gasp as he tugged and rolled her right nipple with his hand. He kissed his way down her ribs to her belly button, feeling the delicate little shudder of anticipation that went through her body before lifting his head, knowing his eyes were blazing at her. Possessively. He felt that way.

“You are wholly mine, Elisabeta, in every way. I’m wholly yours. I want you to be very sure. I am not trying to rush you.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Or perhaps I am.” He settled his fist around the girth of his cock. “Perhaps I am. My body is impatient for yours, there is no hiding that fact from you.”

His smeared the leaking pearly drops of liquid over the aching, sensitive crown with his thumb and then slid it between her lips. Her eyes darkened with passion and her tongue curled around his thumb and then lapped at the pad, making his cock jerk. Her hungry gaze dropped to his heavy erection. He knew exactly what it felt like when she took him into the heat of her mouth. She was so naturally sensual, and yet she had no idea.

He bent his head once more to hers and kissed her. There was fire there. Pure flames. They burned through him until he could barely breathe or think rationally. He wanted to eat her up. Devour her. He might have started out kissing her gently, but that went away fast when she responded with her fingers bunching in his hair and the other hand digging nails into his buttocks, pulling him closer to her, pulling his weight right over her. He lifted his head and once more started down her body with kisses and nips.

“Ferro.” There was an ache in her voice.

“Your body has to be ready to take mine. Have patience.” His little songbird. Nearly as impatient as he was. That was a good omen.

Her skin was exquisite. The taste every bit as addicting as her blood, as the nectar between her legs. He was making his way in that direction, and already the need to devour her was there, filling his mind until he felt nearly feral, the wild craving driving him to lift her legs over his arms, opening her to him as he settled between her thighs and took that first long, slow lick of the perfect aphrodisiac.

Elisabeta cried out. Her hips bucked. That mixture of citrus and sandalwood spilled onto his tongue, threatening to drive him insane. He clamped down on her legs, holding her in place, one hand splayed wide on her belly.

I am only getting started. You have felt my mouth on you before. His tongue circled her clit and then flicked. Her entire body shuddered in reaction. Look up at the rain. Relax and let your body feel the pleasure I am giving to you.

There was always pleasure, but never like this. This burns. Coils deeper. Burns deeper and hotter as if you are branding me deep inside.

I want to eat you alive, piŋe sarnanak, not worry that you will be afraid of the things I do with my mouth and teeth to get your body ready for mine. Will you trust me? You will feel pleasure, I promise.

I will always trust you.

That was all the consent he needed. He had held himself in check with her since the moment he had first discovered she was his lifemate. He had been careful to suppress his wild nature in order to be whatever his lifemate needed. Now, he let himself feast on her, an aggressive assault on her senses using his lips, tongue, his fingers, flicking and tapping and then raking with the edge of his teeth only to soothe with licks. He suckled gently and then stabbed deep, switching from gentle to rough until she was writhing and sobbing his name, her nails biting deep into his shoulders or, alternately, her fingers fisting in his hair.

He took her over the edge twice before he was satisfied that she was slick with heat, mindless with need, and ready for the girth of his body. The relentless pounding of his blood through his cock was nearly terrifying as he knelt up between her legs. Her gaze clung to his, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. She looked radiant, disheveled, sensual, and so completely his.

Ferro pressed the broad crown of his cock into the scalding heat of her slick entrance, feeling the flames licking up his spine with a ferocious burn that spread over his body, a wildfire out of control. He had to breathe deep to keep from slamming into that tight, scorching sheath. Instead, he fought for control and pressed into her with measured care, inch by slow inch.

Her tight silken muscles resisted but gave way reluctantly in the face of his persistent invasion. Her breath exploded out of her lungs in a long rush. His did the same. She was a pure white-hot silken fist grasping his cock tight, massaging and milking, a thousand fiery tongues licking and stroking, wet and so scorching hot he was nearly out of his mind with the need to move fast and hard in her.

Elisabeta’s hips bucked. She squirmed. Pushed herself onto him. Caught at him. Ferro. His name was a plea. For more. For everything he could give her.

“Almost there, piŋe sarnanak. Another minute. We have to be careful.” His voice was nearly hoarse with the effort to hold back.

I do not want to be careful.

It was the first time his little songbird sounded out of control, impatient and just a little bossy. He loved that. Loved that he could give that to her. He pushed deeper, found her barrier, gripped her hips hard with his hands and took the pain from her mind as he surged forward, letting her only feel the explosive pleasure as his cock ground over her most sensitive spot. She cried out as he buried himself deep, fully planting himself in her, so they were not only sharing minds but sharing bodies.

He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of Elisabeta’s feminine sheath surrounding his cock, gripping him so tightly, so ferociously, as if she would never let him go, feeling her heartbeat right through the walls of her silken sheath, treasuring the intimacy of the moment between them. It was the most exquisite, perfect, amazing moment of his life.

For me, too. You have given me so much, Ferro, and then you give this to me. Her eyes were dark with passion and liquid with emotion. Silver drops tipped her lashes, just like the dazzling ones falling from the sky above their heads. If I have not yet told you, tet vigyázam, beloved.

His heart clenched hard in his chest. Turned over. Have no doubt, Elisabeta, that you are in my heart and soul for eternity.

Then he began to move, withdrawing slowly, savoring the drag of her muscles as they reluctantly released him, stimulating every nerve ending. He surged forward hard and fast, driving through her folds so that lightning seemed to streak through his body, through hers. She cried out following the direction of his hands, lifting her hips to meet his every thrust.

Her instincts, as always, were right with him, a sensual feast he could never get enough of. Her eyes, her body, the way her breasts swayed and jolted with every surge of his hips as he drove his body into the paradise of hers. Her soft little moans began to rise in urgency. The pleasure in her mind expanding to surround him the way her silken tunnel surrounded his cock. He could feel her heart beating hard and fast right through his thick shaft in time with his, that was how tight she was, squeezing down on him like a vise.

His breath came in harsh, ragged gasps, accompanying her soft moans, a different music, a different song, but one that resonated with their bodies. The rain hit the roof above their heads, a counterpoint to the building crescendo, the wild explosive music tearing up from every cell in his body, every cell in hers, to come together in a fiery climax to their ever-building symphony.

Ferro. Breathless. Fearful.

Let go, sívamet. Fall with me. Trust me.

Elisabeta’s body was coiled tight, and just like that she relaxed, giving herself to him, putting her mind and body into his hands. Her tight silken sheath clamped down around his shaft, strangling him, milking him, biting down with scorching fire. He couldn’t take his gaze from hers, watching her go there with him, as the two of them were taken some place neither had ever been before. Her gaze clung to his, a little dazed, but soft with love, passion darkening her eyes.

He gripped her hips harder as he emptied himself into her, the wild, helpless jerking of his cock a fiery, volatile reaction to the continuous grip of her silken muscles working him, eager for every drop of his seed. The more he gave her, the hotter the walls of her sheath, until one orgasm rolled into the next and wrung them both out. Until even the little after-shocks were enough to send perfect shuddering through his body as he shared them with her, as he collapsed over the top of her.

Ferro let himself absorb her soft feminine form, the rightness of loving her, his body still in hers, his mind merged with hers, while their hearts pounded together. He didn’t try to think, he just let himself feel love for her. Feel euphoria. Feel one hand in his hair and the other gliding down his back. Hear the rain and their heartbeats.

He had no idea how long he lay there but it took effort to slide his body from hers and roll off of her, to lie beside her. Elisabeta lay sprawled out beside him on the fur, staring up at the silvery streaks of rain and the lightly rolling clouds. He threaded his fingers through hers and brought her hand to his chest over his wildly pounding heart.

Are you all right? He wasn’t certain he could get enough air to breathe, so it seemed much more prudent to use their telepathic form of communication.

I am not certain if I am alive. In any case, if I am not, I am good where I am. Do not send a rescue party.

He laughed, mostly in his mind, sharing her amusement. Sharing his joy in her—in them. He brought her hand up to his mouth and brushed a kiss to her palm before pressing her fingers to his lips. I think I might still be right there with you in outer space somewhere, riding the tail of a comet. He scraped his teeth back and forth over the pads of her fingers.

I think you should have started with that lesson, Ferro. Perhaps we could have dispensed with all the rest.

Elisabeta sounded very serious and thoughtful, but her mind, merged with his, mellow and serene, held that amusement he found so incredibly wonderful, mostly because it was so different from those first risings when he had sung to call her to him.

He drew his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. No doubt you are right, minan piŋe sarnanak. She was about most things. Who was he to say, especially on such an important subject, anything different?

Her soft laughter poured over and into him. When she did that, it always felt like a cleansing, like she filled every crack and tear in his mind that all the centuries of hunting and killing, all the centuries of living in a gray void, had caused. She filled him with love.