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She didn’t look scared. Rather, amusement crept into the deep blue of her eyes. “Surely you aren’t threatening me, Dark One,bogey man of the Carpathians.” She laughed softly, a sound that feathered down his spine and somehow took away the sting of that centuries-old designation. “Stop looking so serious, Gregori—you haven’t lost your reputation entirely. Everyone else is still terrified of the big bad wolf.”
His eyebrows shot up. She was teasing him. About his dark reputation, of all things. Her gaze was clear and sparkling, hinting at mischief. Sava
She leaned over to stare up into his eyes, a smile curving her soft mouth. “You cracked a joke, Gregori. We’re making progress. Why, we’re practically friends.”
“Practically?” he echoed gently.
“Getting there fast,” she told him firmly with her chin up, daring him to contradict her.
“Can one be friends with a monster?” He said casually, as if he were simply musing out loud, but there was a shadow in his silver eyes.
“I was being childish, Gregori, when I made such an accusation,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his squarely. “I wanted my own life, with no one to answer to. It was thoughtless and wrong of me. And I was afraid. But I’m not now, and I ask your forgiveness—”
“Do not!” he ordered sharply. “ Mon Dieu, chérie,do not ever apologize to me for your fear. I do not deserve it, and we both know it.” His thumb pressed into the heated satin of her lip. “And do not try to be so brave. I am your lifemate. You ca
“Trepidation,” she corrected, nibbling at the pad of his thumb.
“Is there a difference?” His pale eyes had warmed to molten mercury. Just that fast, her body went liquid in answer.
“You know very well there is.” She laughed again, and the sound traveled down from his heart to pool in his groin, a heavy, familiar ache. “Slight, perhaps, but very important.”
“I will try to make you happy, Sava
Her fingers went up to brush at the thick mane of hair falling around his face. “You are my lifemate, Gregori. I have no doubt you will make me happy.”
He had to look away, out the window into the night. She was so good, with so much beauty in her, while he was so dark, his goodness drained into the ground with the blood of all the lives he had taken while he waited for her. But now, faced with the reality of her, Gregori could not bear her to witness the blackness within him, the hideous stain across his soul.
For beyond his killing and law-breaking, he had committed the gravest crime of all. And he deserved the ultimate penalty, the forfeit of his life. He had deliberately tampered with nature. He knew he was powerful enough, knew his knowledge exceeded the boundaries of Carpathian law. He had taken Sava
If she ever found out the extent of his manipulation, she would despise him. Yet he could never, ever, allow her to leave him. Not if mortals and immortals alike were to be safe. His jaw hardened, and he stared out the window, turning slightly away from her. His mind firmly left hers, not wanting to alert her to the grave crime he had committed. He could bear torture and centuries of isolation, he could bear his own great sins, but he could not endure her loathing him. Unconsciously, he took her hand in his and tightened his grip until it threatened to crush her fragile bones.
Sava
Chapter Eight
Peter Sanders’s ashes were buried on the grounds of a mansion Gregori had built for Sava
Sava
She was turning to go back toward the house when the wolves lifted their heads and howled. Gregori whirled around and caught her arm, dragging her close to him. “I believe it is Aidan Savage,” he said softly. “We must go inside, where Carter has no chance to catch sight of Aidan. We do not want to lead assassins to Aidan’s door.” He hissed a command to his wolves and hurried Sava
“I thought you had this place safeguarded,” she said.
“With your crew and the police coming to the service, it was too dangerous. Someone could have wandered away from the site and been harmed.” His hand brushed her hair tenderly. “I know you are tired. You should lie down for another hour or so. It was too soon for our rising.”
She leaned against his hard strength and read the remorse in his mind. “This was never your fault, Gregori, never. I never blamed you for Peter.”
His hand caressed her hair. “I know you did not.” His attention was on the stirring of the wind, heralding one of their kind. “But if I had not been overwhelmed with physical feelings—lust,” he condemned himself, “I would have known the vampire was stalking you that night. I had released Julian from his responsibility; you were in my care.”
“Do you have to be so hard on yourself?” she asked with a sigh. “You are not responsible for all Carpathians, nor all humans. If anyone is to blame, it is me for insisting on my freedom. I was thoughtless, not realizing what I was doing to you or even to the unattached males of our kind. I didn’t once give a thought to what you would suffer while I was ru