Dark Possession Page 0,7

"Only she can judge me unworthy. So it is written in our laws. Only my lifemate can condemn me."

He must have done something terrible. It was the second accusation of its kind, and the fact that she wasn't fighting at his side spoke volumes. He couldn't call her to him, because he remembered very little-certainly not a sin he had committed against her. He remembered her voice, soft and melodious, like an angel singing from the heavens-only she was saying she would have no part of a Carpathian male.

His heart jumped. Had she refused his claim? Had he bound her to him without her consent? It was accepted in his society, a protection for the male when a female was reluctant. That was not a betrayal. What could he have done? He would never have touched another woman. He would have protected her as he had Jacques's lifemate, with his life and beyond if possible.

He was in a place of judgment, and so far he didn't seem to be faring very well, and maybe that was because he wasn't remembering. He lifted his head and showed his teeth to hundreds, maybe thousands, of Carpathian males who had chosen to give up their souls, decimated their own species, ruining a society and a way of life for the rush of feeling rather than holding on to honor-rather than holding on to the memory of hope for a lifemate.

"I refuse your judgment. I will never belong with you. I may have stained my soul, perhaps beyond redemption, but I would never willingly give it up or trade my honor as you did. I may be all the things you have said, but I will face my lifemate, not you, and let her decide whether my sins can be forgiven."

The vampires hissed, bony fingers pointing accusingly, but they didn't attack him. It made no sense-with their superior numbers they could easily destroy him-yet their forms grew less solid and seemed to waver, so it was difficult to distinguish between the undead and the shadows within the darkness of the rain forest.

The back of his neck tingled and he spun around. The vampires receded deeper into the bushes, the big leafy plants seemingly swallowing them. His stomach burned and his body cried out for food, but he was more confused than ever. The vampires had him trapped. Danger surrounded him. He could feel it in the very stillness. All rustle of life ceased around him. There was no flutter of wings, no scurry of movement. He lifted his head and scented the air. It was still, absolutely still, and yet there was...

Instinct, more than actual sound, alerted him and Manolito spun around, still on his knees, hands going up just as the large jaguar sprang at him.

Chapter Two

Clinical depression was an insidious monster that crept up and slid over and into a person before they had the chance to be aware and on guard. MaryAnn Delaney wiped at the seemingly endless tears running down her face as she went through the list of symptoms. Feelings of sadness. Check. Maybe even double check.

Sadness wasn't the word she would use to describe the terrible yawning emptiness she couldn't overcome, but it was in the book and she'd add it to the growing list of indicators. She was so freakin' sad she couldn't stop crying. And she could put a check on the no appetite because the mere thought of food made her sick. She hadn't been able to sleep since...

She closed her eyes and groaned. Manolito De La Cruz was a stranger. She'd barely spoken to the man, yet when she'd witnessed his death-his murder-she had gone quietly to pieces. She seemed to be grieving more than his family. She knew they were distraught, but they rarely showed emotion at all, and they certainly didn't speak of him. They'd brought his body back in the same private jet they used to return to their ranch in Brazil, but they hadn't taken him to their ranch.

Instead the plane had landed-with her on it-on a private tropical island somewhere in the middle of the Amazon River. And rather than give Manolito a proper burial, his brothers had taken his body to some undisclosed location in the rain forest. She couldn't even sneak out and visit his grave. How absurd and desperate was that? Visiting the grave of a stranger in the dead of night because she couldn't get over his death.

Was paranoia also creeping in, or was