Dark Prince - Feehan Christine - Страница 37

Her blue eyes were sharp as they studied him. “I don’t want to put you in the position of having to lie, Father. I find myself doing enough of that for Mikhail, and I’m not even certain why. Lord knows, he doesn’t ask me to.” There was sorrow in her voice, regret, confusion.

“I wouldn’t lie,” he said.

“Is omission the same thing as a lie, Father?” Tears made her eyes luminous, sparkling on her long lashes.

“Something is happening to me, something I don’t understand, and it terrifies me.”

“Do you love him?”

She could hear the sound of their footsteps loud in the silence of the predawn hours. Their hearts beat steadily, their blood pumping in their veins. As she passed houses, she could hear snoring, creaks, rustles, the sound of a couple making love. Her fingers sought and found Mikhail’s ring as if it was a talisman. She covered it carefully with her palm, as if she could hold Mikhail there.

Did she love him?Everything in her was fascinated, exhilarated by Mikhail. Certainly the physical chemistry between them was powerful, explosive even. But Mikhail was a mystery, a dangerous man who lived in a world of shadows she could not possibly comprehend. “How do you love what you don’t understand, what you don’t know?” Even as she asked the question, she could see his smile, the tenderness in his eyes. She could hear his laughter, their conversations that went on for hours, their silences that stretched companionably between them.

“You know Mikhail. You are an extraordinary woman. You can sense his goodness, his compassion.”

“He has a streak of jealousy, and he’s more than possessive,” Raven pointed out. She knew him, yes, good and bad, and she had accepted him the way he was. But now she realized that although he had opened his mind to her, she had only glimpsed parts of him.

“Don’t forget his protective streak, his deep sense of duty,” Father Hummer countered with a small smile.

Raven shrugged, finding she was near tears again. It was humiliating to her to be so out of control when she knew the priest was right. Mikhail was not dead; he was somewhere in a drug-induced sleep and would get in touch with her the moment he was able. “The intensity of what I feel for him scares me, Father. It isn’t normal.”

“He would give his life for you. Mikhail would be incapable of harming you. If I know anything of him, I know that you can enter a relationship with him knowing he would never be unfaithful, never raise his hand to you, and always put you first in all things.” Edgar Hummer said the words with complete conviction. He knew the truth of it as surely as he knew there was a God in heaven.

She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “I believe he wouldn’t hurt me; I know he wouldn’t. But what of others? He has so many special gifts, so much power. The opportunity to misuse such a talent is tremendous.”

Father Hummer pushed open the door to his cottage and waved her inside. “Do you actually believe that is what he did? He is their leader by blood. The lineage goes back far in time. He is called their prince, although he would never admit it to you. They look to him for leadership and guidance, just as my congregation often comes to me.”

Raven needed something to do, so she built a fire in the stone fireplace while the priest brewed a cup of herbal tea. “He’s really a prince?” For some reason that dismayed her. On top of everything else, she was contemplating a commitment to royalty. Those things never worked out.

“I’m afraid so, child,” Father Hummer admitted ruefully. “He is considered the last word on everything. Perhaps that is why he tends to look and act as though he might be an important person. He has many responsibilities, and as long as I’ve known him, he has never failed to meet any of them.”

She sat back on the floor, pushing the heavy fall of hair away from her tearstained face. “Sometimes when Mikhail and I are together, it feels as if we’re two halves of the same whole. He can be so serious and brooding and so alone. I love to make him laugh, to bring life into his eyes. But then he does things...” Her voice trailed off.

Father Hummer set a cup of tea beside her, taking his familiar place in the armchair. “What kinds of things?” he prompted gently.

She let her breath out slowly, raggedly. “I’ve been alone most of my life. I’ve always done whatever I wanted to do. When I want, I pick up and move. I travel quite a bit and I value my freedom. I’ve never had to answer to anyone.”

“And you prefer that way of life to what you could have with Mikhail?”

Her hands shook as they circled the teacup, absorbing its warmth. “You ask tough questions, Father. I thought Mikhail and I could come to some sort of compromise. But it all happened so fast, and now I don’t know if the things I’m feeling are entirely my own. He’s always with me. Now, all of a sudden, he isn’t, and I can’t stand it. Look at me; I’m a mess. You didn’t know me before, but I’m used to being alone; I’m completely independent. Could he have done something to make this happen?”

“Mikhail would never force you to love him. I’m not certain he could do such a thing.”

She swallowed a steadying sip of tea. “I know that. But what about now—why can’t I be away from him? I like being alone, I value my privacy, yet without his touch, I’m falling apart. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for someone like me?”

Father Hummer lowered his cup to the saucer and regarded her with troubled eyes. “There is no need to feel that way, Raven. I do know that Mikhail said when the male of his race meets his true lifemate, he can say ritual words to her and bind them together as they were meant to be. If she is not the one, neither is affected in any way, but if she is, one can’t be without the other.”

Raven put a defensive hand to her throat. “What words? Did he tell you the actual words?”

Father Hummer shook his head regretfully. “Only that once said to the right woman, she is bound to him and can’t escape. The words are like our marriage vows. Carpathians have a different standard of values, of right and wrong. There is no such thing as divorce to them; it isn’t in their vocabulary. The two people are virtually two halves of the same whole.”

“What if one was unhappy?” Her fingers were twisting together in agitation. She remembered hearing Mikhail say something unusual. The memory was hazy, like a dream.

“A Carpathian male will do anything necessary to ensure the happiness of his lifemate. I don’t know or understand how it works, but Mikhail told me the bond is so strong, a male can’t do anything else but know how to make his woman happy.”

Raven touched her neck, her palm lingering over her pulse. “Whatever he did must work, Father, because I’m not the type to throw myself off a balcony because I’ve been away from a man a couple of hours.”

“I guess we should both be hoping Mikhail is getting a taste of his own medicine,” Father Hummer said with a small smile.

Raven’s heart slammed hard in her chest, her body shrieking in instant protest. The thought of Mikhail suffering in any way was terribly upsetting. She tried to conjure up an answering smile. “Somehow I think he’s safe from feeling anything.”

The priest studied her shadowed, grief-stricken face over his teacup. “I think Mikhail is very lucky to have found you. You’re strong yourself, just as he is.”

“I’m putting up a great front, then”—Raven wiped at her eyes with her knuckles—”because I feel like I’m breaking apart inside. And I’m not very happy with Mikhail.”

“Nor do I think you should be, yet your first instinct is to protect him. You were horrified by the idea that he might be suffering as you are.”

“I don’t like to see anyone in pain. There’s something sad about Mikhail, as if he’s borne the weight of the world on his shoulders for far too long. Sometimes I look at his face and there’s such sorrow there—not in his eyes exactly but etched into his face.” Raven sighed. “I guess I’m not making any sense, but he needs someone to take the shadows away.”