Dark Prince. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 1

Chapter Two

The heavy door swung closed behind Raven with a thud of finality. She shivered, rubbed her arms nervously. Mikhail whirled a cape around her, enveloping her in warmth, in his woodsy, masculine scent. He strode across the marble floor to throw open the doors to the library. Within minutes he had a fire roaring. He indicated a chair near the flames. It was high-backed, deep cushioned, an antique, yet curiously not worn.

Raven studied the room with awe. It was large, with a beautiful hardwood floor, each parquet piece a part of a larger mosaic. On three sides there were floor-to-ceiling shelves, completely filled with books, most leather bound, many very old. The chairs were comfortable, the small table, in between the chairs, an antique in perfect condition. The chessboard was marble, the pieces uniquely carved.

“Drink this.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when he appeared beside her with a crystal glass. “I don’t drink alcohol.”

He smiled the smile that made her heart beat faster. His acute sense of smell had already processed that particular bit of information about her. “It is not alcohol; it is an herb mixture for your headache.”

Alarm slammed into her. She was crazy for being here. It was like trying to relax with a wild tiger in the same room. He could do anything to her and no one would come to help. If he drugged her… Decisively, she shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Raven.” His voice was low, caressing, hypnotic. “Obey me.”

She found her fingers curling around the glass. She fought the order, and pain sliced through her head so that she cried out.

Mikhail was at her side, looming over her, his hand closing over hers around the fragile glass. “Why do you defy me over so trivial a thing?”

There were tears burning in her throat. “Why would you force me?”

His hand found her throat, circled it, lifted her chin. “Because you are in pain and I wish to ease it.”

Her eyes widened in astonishment. Could it be so simple? She was in pain and he wanted to ease it? Was he really that protective, or did he enjoy imposing his will? “It’s my choice. That’s what free will is all about.”

“I can see pain in your eyes, feel it in your body. Knowing I can help you, is it logical for me to allow you to continue to hurt yourself just so you can prove something?” There was genuine puzzlement in his voice. “Raven, if I was going to harm you, I would not need to drug you. Allow me to help you.” His thumb was moving over her skin, feather-light, sensuous, tracing the pulse in her neck, the delicate line of her jaw, the fullness of her lower lip.

She closed her eyes and let him put the glass to her mouth, tilt the bittersweet contents down her throat. She felt as if she was placing her life in his hands. There was far too much possession in his touch.

“Relax, little one,” he said softly. “Tell me about yourself. How is it that you can hear my thoughts?” His strong fingers found her temples, began a soothing rhythm.

“I’ve always been able to do it. When I was little, I just assumed everybody else could do the same thing. But it was terrible to know other people’s innermost thoughts, their secrets. I heard and felt things every minute of the day.” Raven never talked about her life, her childhood, to anyone, least of all a complete stranger. Yet Mikhail didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt like a part of her. A piece missing from her soul. It seemed important to tell him. “My father thought I was a freak, a demon child, and even my mother was a little afraid of me. I learned never to touch people, not to be in crowds. It was better to be alone, in places of solitude. It was the only way I could stay sane.”

Gleaming teeth bared above her head, a predator’s menace. He wanted to be alone with her father for a few minutes, to show him what a demon really was. It interested him, yet alarmed him that her words could bring about such rage in him. To know she was alone so long ago, had endured pain and loneliness when he was in the world, angered him. Why hadn’t he gone looking for her? Why hadn’t her father loved and cherished her as he should have?

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