Dark Possession Page 0,77
a future, but she couldn't do what Manolito was doing, healing from the inside out. How did you let go of everything you were and become an instrument of healing? She had seen Manolito sacrifice his life for a woman and unborn child. She had heard that he had gotten a scar around his throat, when Carpathians rarely scarred, from saving his prince. And now he had managed to let go of who he was in order to save a life.
Few could know what that really entailed, but she was with him, connected to him, and she realized just what had to be given up to become spirit. The body was vulnerable to all attacks, yes, but much more than that, Manolito had shed his personality, all ego, all hopes and dreams, his own needs, everything, and he had done so willingly.
She had been inside his mind when he had so quickly shed his opinions and ideas, his very personality, and become selfless in his effort to save Solange. She couldn't help but admire him. Manolito was a strong personality with set beliefs about women, yet with all that, he had immediately cast himself aside. What kind of true character did he have hidden under all that arrogance? And were his seemingly dominating ways with women maybe really about protection? His species certainly treasured their women and children. All of them. It didn't seem to matter that Shea was Jacques's lifemate, Manolito had stepped in front of her and taken the death strike meant for her without a qualm.
Live, Luiz. Hang on until he can help. He'll save your life. She was positive. She was in his head and she could see his absolute resolve to keep Solange alive. Manolito was so focused, so completely wrapped up in healing that he thought of nothing else. She saw goodness in him, something she might have missed if she hadn't been connected by his blood exchange, and for the first time she allowed herself to think about that exchange as something good. She might have dismissed the Carpathian as impossible if she didn't know about his other, much softer side.
She stroked back Luiz's hair, the gesture idle as she watched Manolito's face. Time seemed to stop. Everything around her faded until there was only Manolito. His eyes, dark and shadowed, with absurdly long lashes. They should have been feminine, but his face was too masculine, the strong jaw and straight nose. She felt his breath move in and out of her body. She felt his heart beat, strong and steady. Her heart. His. Luiz's. Solange's. They were all tied together by one man. One incredible man.
Manolito pulled out of Solange's body, swaying with weariness, his gaze seeking his lifemate. She had kept them all connected, sharing strength, keeping up a steady flow of absolute conviction of life. Of love. Of wholeness. Solange was still alive because MaryAnn had given her a reason to cling to life. Luiz still lived because she held him tight to earth, refusing to even consider allowing him to go.
She thought it was all Manolito. He didn't know whether to laugh or simply grab MaryAnn and get out before she could find out he was a fraud. He needed to give Solange blood, and it would take strength to force her. He was already ravenous. And the bright colors around him were fading into much duller spectrums, as if he couldn't keep his mind from wandering back to the land of shadows.
MaryAnn's gaze collided with his, and for a moment he couldn't move or breathe. She could never stop looking at him like that. The trust and belief, the absolute faith shining in her eyes, was a gift he would never forget. The shadows receded. "I need to give Solange blood. See if you can get her to accept what I offer. It will heal her faster and make her stronger. I will not exchange with her, merely give her enough to survive."
He sounded so tired. The lines in his face were etched deep. She wanted to put her arms around him and hold him, comfort him, give him whatever he needed to help him continue. She read the determination in him.
"Hurry, Manolito. I know you're tired, but Luiz can't last much longer."
His gaze flicked to the hand stroking Luiz's furred head. For a moment a flicker of black jealousy raked at his gut. He tasted ashes in his mouth, and once again the shadows drew close. Faintly,