Dark Curse Page 0,70

when caught in a trap, she had been more than prepared to do the same.

The sight of those marks shamed him as nothing else could have. He had relived only a small portion of her life and it had left him shaken and sick inside. She had endured years of it. He pressed her wrist to his mouth. Her entire body jerked and she whimpered softly, closing her eyes, several tears tracking down her face.

Trust me, o jela sielamak. Light of my soul. "Trust me, Lara." He kept his voice low, mesmerizing without being hypnotic. He breathed warm air over the rough band of scars and then lowered his mouth to her wrist. His tongue stroked a healing caress over the rigid skin. His lips brushed back and forth in a small, soothing motion. He whispered a healing chant, rhythmic and beautiful to the ear, the words ancient and flowing in his melodic voice.

She stopped resisting, but he felt her holding herself very still as if waiting for betrayal. His heart wept for her, for that small child who had been made to feel so helpless, and for the grown woman whose lifemate had carelessly made her feel exactly the same way.

He turned her other wrist over and performed the same ritual, a slow bathing of her skin with the healing agent in his saliva, all the while watching her face, her eyes, for a sign of withdrawal. There was no movement one way or the other. She became completely still, too frightened to even blink up at him, a wild animal trapped.

"I am not going to hurt you," he assured, keeping his voice soft, intent on drawing her wholly back to the surface. She hovered there, ready to flee back into a place of childhood horror rather than be imprisoned as an adult. "Stay with me, Lara. Let me show you how a Carpathian man cherishes his woman."

He pushed aside the long rope of bright hair to examine the marks at her neck. His was there, two small puncture wounds and a small strawberry. He pressed his mouth there, sweeping his tongue across the mark of possession to heal it completely. Where before it had been important to him for the world to know she was his, now it was important to him that she be free of any reminder of her childhood. She shuddered, her body stiff, but again, her spirit seemed to hover there, just waiting.

Do not be alarmed, Lara, I need to examine your back. He chose to use the more intimate form of communication, mind to mind, so that his motives would be absolutely clear to her.I have to take a look at your back and legs .

The urge to see for himself was a need, had grown into a monstrous compulsion he couldn't fight. His body was covered in thin white stripes already healing, which meant, he was certain, that she carried scars all over her body, constant reminders of being helpless and humiliated. His hands were gentle as he laid her facedown on the soft blankets he'd fashioned for her. It took moments of thought to have her skin gleaming beneath the flickering candlelight. She was so tense she was shaking, but again she lay quiet under the caressing pads of his fingers.

Her back was crisscrossed with white ridges and lines. The pattern continued all the way down her buttocks to the backs of her legs. Most were shallow and faint, but scar tissue had formed over a few of them. He knew, from the fire in his back and legs, that he bore the same marks, although within another hour, they would disappear from his body as if they'd never been.

His eyes burned and he closed them for a moment, despising himself for not knowing this, not taking the time to know every inch of his lifemate's body, know every bit of her past in order to secure the happiness of her future. He had vowed to cherish her, to place her happiness above all things and, even without the lifemate bond, honor should have dictated that he do so. He had been consumed with his own importance, his own desires and his belief that he was always right and others owed him their allegiance.

Nicolas bent forward and pressed his lips to the middle of a particularly deep scar.Forgive me, palafertiilm. There is no excuse I can offer to you, nor will I. Words will not repair the damage I have done