“A Carpathian male will do anything necessary to ensure the happiness of his lifemate. I don’t know or understand how it works, but Mikhail told me the bond is so strong, a male can’t do anything else but know how to make his woman happy.”
Raven touched her neck, her palm lingering over her pulse. “Whatever he did must work, Father, because I’m not the type to throw myself off a balcony because I’ve been away from a man a couple of hours.”
“I guess we should both be hoping Mikhail is getting a taste of his own medicine,” Father Hummer said with a small smile.
Raven’s heart slammed hard in her chest, her body shrieking in instant protest. The thought of Mikhail suffering in any way was terribly upsetting. She tried to conjure up an answering smile. “Somehow I think he’s safe from feeling anything.”
The priest studied her shadowed, grief-stricken face over his teacup. “I think Mikhail is very lucky to have found you. You’re strong yourself, just as he is.”
“I’m putting up a great front, then”—Raven wiped at her eyes with her knuckles—”because I feel like I’m breaking apart inside. And I’m not very happy with Mikhail.”
“Nor do I think you should be, yet your first instinct is to protect him. You were horrified by the idea that he might be suffering as you are.”
“I don’t like to see anyone in pain. There’s something sad about Mikhail, as if he’s borne the weight of the world on his shoulders for far too long. Sometimes I look at his face and there’s such sorrow there—not in his eyes exactly but etched into his face.” Raven sighed. “I guess I’m not making any sense, but he needs someone to take the shadows away.”
“That’s an interesting assessment, child, and I must say, I know what you mean. I’ve seen the very same thing in him. Taking his shadows away.” He repeated the words aloud, musing over them. “That’s it exactly.”
Raven nodded. “Like he’s seen too much violence, too many terrible things, and it’s pulled him deeper and deeper into darkness. When I’m close to him I can feel that. He stands like a guardian in front of some evil, malevolent gate and holds monsters at bay so the rest of us can go about our lives and never know we were even threatened.”
Father Hummer’s breath caught in his throat. “Is that how you see him? A guardian of the gate?”
Raven nodded. “It’s an image very vivid in my mind. I know it probably sounds melodramatic to you.”
“I wish I could have said those very words to him myself,” the priest said softly. “Many times he has come here seeking comfort, yet I never knew exactly what to say. I prayed God would send help to him to find his answer, Raven, and perhaps he sent you.”
She was trembling, constantly fighting the torment in her head, the need to touch Mikhail, the idea that he might be gone from Earth. Raven took a deep, calming breath, grateful for the priest. “I don’t think I’m God’s answer to anything, Father. Right now I want to curl up into a little ball and cry.”
“You can do this, Raven. You know he lives.”
Raven sipped at the tea. It was hot and delicious. It put some warmth back into her insides, but it could never hope to heat the terrible emptiness, ice cold and grasping, that was devouring her soul. Slowly, inch by inch, that black hole was growing.
She tried to concentrate on other things, to enjoy her conversation with this man who knew and respected, even had great affection for, Mikhail. Raven took another drink of tea, struggling desperately to hang on to her sanity.
“Mikhail is an extraordinary man,” Father Hummer said, hoping to distract her. “He is one of the most gentle men I have ever met. His sense of right and wrong is tremendous. He has a will of iron.”
“I’ve seen that,” Raven acknowledged.
“I’ll bet you have. Mikhail is a man few would want to have as an enemy. But he is also loyal and caring. I saw him restore this very village nearly single-handedly after a disaster once. Every person in it is important to him. There is a greatness in Mikhail.”