The world around him took on her beauty. Deep, vivid colors he hadn’t seen in so long he didn’t remember them ever being so vibrant. The leaves rustling in the trees took on hues from a deep forest green to a particularly beautiful shade of silver. Ribbons of water bubbled over winding paths of rock, streamers of shiny diamonds cutting their way downhill to feed the large marshes.
He was content with just walking with her. His body might demand more, and the Carpathian male in him had such a drive to bind her to him that it shocked him, but none of that mattered. Not when she accompanied him and listened to the wealth of information the wind provided just as he was. For the first time in his life he felt he belonged somewhere. He found the ability to want her, that constant demand coursing through his bloodstream, the roar in his ears and drum beating in his pulse only added to the serenity of the moment. Feeling physical need and hunger for her in itself was a miracle.
Tatijana looked up at Fen. The moonlight spilled over him, illuminating every rugged feature, the lines etched deep, his unusual eyes and strong jaw. He looked more Lycan than Carpathian with the moon pulling at his wild side. She found him irresistible with his blend of elegant, charming Carpathian with old world manners and the much rougher, feral, dangerous wolf lurking just under the surface.
He looked the ultimate predator. There was no hiding the wolf blood, not under the moon. She knew if she could see it, so could other wolves. Still, the wildness in him made him that much more appealing to her. She knew Carpathian males were dominant and their counterparts in the Lycan society had to be as well, yet his dominance was tempered with restraint. Fen knew what she needed—freedom.
He accepted her just the way she was. He didn’t try to mold her into anything different. She found she wanted his company and his sense of humor. He didn’t reveal himself to anyone else, and that made her feel special. He clearly would protect her with his life and he made her feel precious, cherished even. It was in the way he looked at her. The touch of his hand, the tone of his voice, and there, in the thoughts he couldn’t hide from her.
She’d been restless since she’d awakened from her long, healing hibernation, looking for something, but she hadn’t known what. She’d thought it was information, but it hadn’t been so mundane. She’d known almost from the first time she’d entered the tavern at the edge of the woods. She’d been drawn back time and again even though she tried to fight the compulsion. She’d known it was Fen. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She couldn’t stop dancing for him, trying to get his attention. She’d avoided asking herself why, but deep down, she’d known he was her lifemate.
She hadn’t wanted him, fearing his dominance, but something had changed inside of her. Whatever wall she’d built up had come tumbling down when she watched him fight for his brother, for her and for Zev. He had placed himself in harm’s way knowing the consequences, but he’d been unflinching. He hadn’t once chastised her, and he seemed to value her opinions and abilities.
He fascinated her. Everything about him fascinated her. She found herself slipping more and more into his mind. He never closed himself off from her, no matter what memories she examined. She knew his newfound emotions could be intensely painful when he recalled the death of his friends. His Carpathian unemotional nature had protected him to some extent, now he was wide open to every feeling, a flood of them all at once.
Fen didn’t flinch from his memories. He met them head-on. He processed the sorrow and moved on. He held tight to her in his mind, and that made her feel as if he truly needed her. He didn’t ask for anything from her though. Not a single thing. She could feel the need and hunger beating at him, but he never tried to make her feel guilty. In fact, he fully supported her decision. The problem was . . . she wasn’t at all certain about her decision anymore. She’d changed her mind. He was her lifemate and there seemed little reason to avoid the claiming. She would follow him no matter what happened, claimed or unclaimed. She knew that her commitment to him was already there.
The scent of flowers hit Fenris as they approached a large open meadow. He tightened his fingers around Tatijana’s. She felt small to him, fragile even, yet he knew a core of steel ran through his lady. He enjoyed the way they walked in step together. She fit perfectly with him, not just her height, but her mind, the way she seemed to pour into every dark place, wiping out the battles and the hunting and the destroying of childhood friends. She seemed to be able to bridge the cracks in his soul from too many kills.
Fen’s eyes widened. “Night star flower. Did you know they were here? I haven’t seen them in centuries. As far as I know they don’t grow anywhere else.”
Dark Lycan (Carpathian)
Feehan, Christine's books
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