Dark Prince. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 1

“You think you’re so damned smart, selling yourself to the highest bidder, so innocent and untouchable.” Jacob gripped the front of her chambray shirt, jerked hard, and ripped the material right down to her small waist. Her full breasts spilled out, instantly drawing his attention. Roughly he grabbed her, bruising soft flesh.

I’m sorry. The trapped woman’s cry was edged with guilt. She had failed to guard her mental cries, had allowed Margaret Summers to hear her calls to Raven.

Mikhail! Please! Raven’s hopeless plea went out again. You must hear me. I need you. God, please help me. Help that poor woman.

Jacob roared, slapped her once, twice. “He’s marked you. My God, you’re one of them.” His hand closed over her throat, threatening to cut off her air. “He’s impregnated you like the others. I knew it was him.”

He raised his hand above her and Raven caught the glint of shiny metal. Jacob stabbed down, his face a mask of fury and hate. Pain sliced low and wicked through her abdomen; blood gushed warm. Jacob pulled the dripping knife from her flesh and raised it again.

Chapter Nine

The earth rumbled, shook, rolled. Jacob’s knife buried deep a second time. The wind unleashed its deadly power, sent leaves, twigs, and small branches flying through the air like missiles. The knife bit a third time. Lightning sizzled once, twice, three times, slammed into the earth as thunder cracked, shaking the land with the unholy sound. The knife found her a fourth time. The heavens opened up and rain poured down hard and fast, as if floodgates had burst.

Jacob was covered in blood. He pushed away from her, turning his head as the sky grew darker. He could hear the others screaming in fear. “Damn you.” He sliced down a fifth time in fury and defiance.

An unseen hand caught his wrist before the blade could find her, fingers curling hard in an unbreakable grip. The knife turned inward toward Jacob’s throat, and for one long, eternal moment, he stared in horror at the bloodied blade as it inched toward his flesh. It struck suddenly, burying itself to the hilt.

Wolves boiled out of the forest, circled the meadow, glowing eyes fixed on the three people dodging branches that were hurtling through the air. Margaret screamed and ran. Harry took off blindly and Hans lost his footing and dropped to his knees as the earth heaved and shook again.

“Raven.” Mikhail materialized beside her, fear for her clawing at his guts. He ripped the jeans away so he could see the extent of her injuries.

The earth rolled again, split the meadow open. Mikhail clamped his hands over the pumping holes in an attempt to stem the terrible flow of blood. Jacques shimmered into view, then Eric, Byron. Tienn arrived, and Vlad.

Gregori blasted out of the sky toward the three human assassins surrounded by the wolf pack. There on the meadow, with the world coming to an end, he took the shape of a huge, black wolf, a wolf with the hungry, mad eyes of retribution.

“My God.” Jacques was on his knees beside Mikhail, gathering handfuls of rich soil. “Go, Byron, for the herbs. Hurry!”

Within minutes they had packed Raven’s wounds with their poultices. Mikhail ignored them, cradling Raven in his arms, his large body bent protectively to shield her from the onslaught of the pounding rain.

Mikhail’s entire being was concentrated, focused on only one thing. You will not leave me, he commanded. I will not release you. Lightning sizzled, whipped across the sky, slammed into the earth. On its heels thunder boomed, shook the mountains.

“Jacques! Eleanor is going to give birth.” Vlad was desperate.

“Get her into the house. Call Celeste and Dierdre.” Jacques toed Jacob’s body contemptuously as he added his large frame as a shelter over Raven.

“She is not dead,” Mikhail hissed, seeing the compassion in his brother’s eyes.

“She is dying, Mikhail.” Jacques’s chest hurt with the knowledge.

Mikhail dragged her to him, bent his head until his cheek lay against hers. I know you can hear me; you must drink, Raven. Drink deeply.

He felt the faint stirring in his mind. Warmth, regret. So much pain. Let me go.

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