“I thought you were planning on talking him to death,” Darius informed the golden bat dryly as he himself shape-shifted from a black bat to a feathered and much more powerful predator.
“Someone had to do something while you were playing with your rock patterns,” Julian replied easily, allowing iridescent feathers to erupt along his own body, becoming a raptor more than able to keep up with his companion’s aggressive flight.
They began to fly side be side easily toward the forest where they had left Desari. “I could do no other than protect the man of my sister’s choosing.” Darius managed to make it sound as if his sister had a hole in her head.
Julian snorted. “Protect me? I do not think so, old man. You were the one standing back in the shadows while I destroyed the beast.”
“I had to ensure you came to no harm through other traps and snares. You certainly wasted enough time with the undead,” Darius replied softly. He veered to the left, winging his way above the canopy of trees. When Julian continued on his present course, Darius made a wide circle back to him. “You do not wish to return to my family with me?”
“I must awaken Desari first,” Julian replied complacently.
“Desari rose an hour ago.” Darius delivered the message in a tranquil, neutral voice.
Julian, within the owl’s body, nearly dropped from the sky in shock. He could not conceive of Darius teasing him. Darius had no discernible sense of humor. He was closer to turning than any other Carpathian male Julian had ever met. It was an unsettling thought that someday he might have to hunt and attempt to destroy Desari’s brother.
Desari. He whispered her name across the sky, somewhere between tenderness and rage. She had somehow managed to awaken on her own despite his forceful command. He should have known the moment she had risen. He was her lifemate. They were connected, two halves of the same whole. Darius had known Desari was gone. Had she contacted him? For a moment Julian’s feathered body shook with anger. Desari didn’t understand what it meant to be claimed by a mate. She was bound to him, heart and soul. She needed to learn much more of the man who was now her lifemate. Petty retaliation because he had forced her obedience would not be tolerated.
Tolerated? Desari’s soft voice said scornfully in his mind. I do not owe you obedience, Julian. I am no fledgling to follow your lead without question. You are the one who needs to learn more of the woman you claim you have bound to you. I will not be treated in such a manner.
Julian slammed his mind shut while he wrestled with an unfamiliar, smoldering rage. He had never really experienced jealous anger. He had never had reason to.
And, as a powerful Carpathian male, he had naturally believed that his lifemate was the one who would willingly change her life for him. She would want to fit into his world, not force him to live in hers. Yet Desari appeared to have ideas of her own.
Julian deliberately turned away from Darius, working at repressing his unexpected temper. He needed time alone to get himself under control, to think things through. To try to understand that Desari was no fledgling to be guided by her mate. That she had lived many centuries, had many powers, and was used to making decisions and commanding a certain amount of respect. He winged his way toward the mountain peaks, where he always felt a semblance of peace. He would spend time there pondering the situation and the best way to handle it.
“You are of our blood,” the undead had said. And it was the terrible truth. How had he thought he could claim a lifemate, live as an honorable Carpathian was meant to? Doubtless Mikhail, the Prince of their people, knew the truth. Gregori, too. And Darius certainly sensed it in him. Worse, Julian now realized, what Darius knew, so would Desari. “You are of our blood.”
Desari wandered through the campsite Dayan had chosen. They were near other campers, human campers, yet protected from prying eyes. Still, for some reason, she was uneasy, restless. She found herself pacing back and forth until Dayan told her to stop or she was going to wear a new trail in the dirt. At first she thought it was because she was angry with Julian for sending her to sleep like a fledgling. Then she decided it was anger at herself for being vulnerable to such compulsion. Now she didn’t know what it was. Her mind was in chaos, striving constantly to find Julian. That in itself was disconcerting. Maybe what she needed to do was feed. No, what she needed to do was find Julian. Touch him. See him.
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