Dark Slayer

She sank down along the wall, drew up her knees and clasped her arms around her legs, making herself much smaller. «I wanted to go to Xavier's school and learn from him. My brothers and five of their friends raised me. Ten strong warriors indulging my every whim. I learned how to fight, but was never allowed to use my knowledge. I could do things no other woman could do, yet was expected to sit home and wait for a lifemate to provide safety for me.» She shook her head, remembering the frustration of having an active brain desperate for knowledge, any kind, and running into a stone wall as her brothers refused to allow her any freedoms.

She rubbed her chin on her knees. «At that time, Vlad Dubrinsky was the prince.» She was giving him a very convoluted explanation, rambling on instead of making it short and succinct. She pressed her fingers to her eyes. «I think it has been so long since I have carried on a conversation with anyone but my pack that I have forgotten how.» She rubbed her palm up and down her thigh.

Razvan's gaze jumped to her hand and lingered there, recognizing the sign of nerves. She was wild, like her pack, uneasy with his presence, not because he represented danger, or because he was her lifemate, but simply because she was inherently wary of everyone.

«Be calm, Ivory,» he said softly, crooning as he would to tame a cornered wild animal. «I seek nothing from you. I do not believe that Xavier will hunt for my body this soon. He has grown weak and old without Carpathian blood to feed on. He will need to find his strength before he can strike at me. Lara escaped his prison first and then my aunts. So for the moment you are safe, but never turn your back on me. Consider killing me.»

She ignored his last statement. «How did you escape?»

«Xavier took my body out of the ice caves when his fortress was destroyed. He needs blood now to survive and be strong.» He looked down at his worn, torn body with a brief, humorless smile. «He had used my blood until little enough remained. I believe he had it in his mind to kill me, but when the aunts escaped, he needed my blood to keep him alive. He is determined to gain immortality. As you can see, there is little left of me, and he grew weak trying to build his new fortress.»

Ivory took a deep breath and let it out. He could see she struggled with herself before she made the offer.

«You need to feed.»

Her voice was low, trembling, and his heart turned over in his chest. It had been long since another had offered a kindness to him.

«I thank you for your offer, but I must regretfully decline. I have taken enough blood from those I should have protected and I will not take yours.»

She frowned at him. «I can feel your hunger.»

«I know. I cannot control the needs spilling into the close confines of this room. I am truly sorry for causing you distress.»

He didn't want her dwelling on the hunger crawling through his body, every cell crying out for sustenance. He could smell her blood, rich and hot and flowing in her veins, calling to him. He could barely think with his teeth already lengthened and his saliva in his mouth. Her heartbeat matched the irregular beat of his own, and that worried him.

He knew little of lifemates, and the last thing he had ever wanted to do was feel real emotion. It was bad enough to remember what it was like to love and feel remorse for the vile things he had done, even under another's compulsion, but she had brought it all into his mind and heart and made it real again. Where before he had been numb for hundreds of years, now every terrible, brutal act-the violation of women, feeding from his own children, stabbing his aunt, betrayal of every single person he loved and cared about-all of it was in front of him, filling him with self-loathing and disgust.

His soul was so black. The emotions poured into him with his memories. His beloved sister-he'd fought to save her, but in the end he'd betrayed her. His aunts-he'd tried so hard to save them, yet Xavier had controlled his body and he'd been the one to plunge a knife into his aunt's chest. He couldn't breathe, couldn't find air to drag into his lungs.

His throat felt raw and he choked, closing his eyes, trying to shut out the guilt and horror of his actions. It mattered little that he had not been in control-that in itself was a terrible guilt-or that he hadn't been strong enough to stop Xavier. Fighting him every inch of the way hadn't been enough, and now this stranger, this woman, brought every horrifying, vivid and disgusting detail into his mind and branded his soul unredeemable.

«Razvan.» Her voice was soft. Gentle. «Look at me.»

He couldn't move. Couldn't face her. No, not her-himself. He cursed his body's resistance to death. How could he ever face anyone after the terrible crimes he'd committed? Bile rose and he choked on it, a bitter, metallic taste. He wiped at his face and his palm came away smeared in blood.