realized he saw and felt differently. He even processed differently. Before, as a Carpathian at full strength, he had been astonished at the flood of information coming to him, but now it was even more intense. It was if the earth spoke to him, whispered her secrets, and ferreted out the smallest detail to share with him. He had changed somehow, beneath the ground. The soil shared something unnamed with him, allowing the trees and plants, the soil itself to pour a wealth of knowledge into him.
He turned his head to look at his lifemate. She was wearing her familiar fighting garb, the double-breasted vest and pants that molded to her long legs. Her hair was in the thick long braid that signaled business. He loved watching her move, all flowing muscle and soft curves.
"What?" She smiled at him with genuine warmth. There was happiness in her eyes, and with a glow of satisfaction, he knew that he had brought it into her life.
"You are beautiful." He bent his head and took a tentative lick along his newly healed arm where the white lines clearly matched hers. "I bet if I were to taste you at this precise moment, you would taste of salt and sin." There was a high concentration of minerals in his skin, and he could discern the complex mineral recipe that had been used to heal both of them. He had been revitalized, with trace minerals flowing through his blood, and all of the elements pressed into his body to allow it to reemerge whole again.
"I want to see your wounds."
Her gaze flicked to his face. "I do not understand."
"I know the vampire injured you, Ivory, and you took care of me rather than heal your wounds. I need to see what is left of the damage."
"Really, scratches. Nothing."
His eyebrow raised. "I recall his shoving an arrow into your breast right over your heart." As he spoke a ripple of pain crossed his face. "When you pulled your hand from his chest it was nearly severed." Razvan swallowed hard, his dark brows coming together in a frown. "He withdrew the arrow from your body, twisting it to do the most damage, and plunged it two inches lower, driving it deep. He was enormously strong and he punched your breast, right over your heart, with tremendous force. I heard your sternum crack."
Had he? She didn't even remember. She remembered Razvan had come to her aid in spite of his condition, sending a fiery blast at Sergey's back, shoving him onto her fist so she could get to the blackened heart. When Sergey had attacked by bringing down the house and forming spears that flew at her from everywhere, Razvan had used his strength to form a barrier around her, taking the brunt of the wooden spears in his own body.
"He broke your wrist."
How had he noticed when he had been so horribly mutilated? Ivory shook her head, unable to speak, not when his gaze moved over her body with brooding allure, touching her in places deep and secret and feminine.
He had to quit reciting the list of her injuries, so pale in comparison to his own. His voice was so gentle, she couldn't get it out of her head. The way he looked at her body when he spoke, as if her injuries were all that mattered to him, the healing of them, the fact that the vampire had hurt her. When she touched his mind, she felt nothing but his need to make certain, to see for himself, that she was wholly healed.
"Mother Earth and the healer aided me, and several Carpathians including the prince gave us blood to speed our healing process. I am fine."
"Nevertheless."
There was a note in his voice that fascinated, thrilled and repelled her all at once. She was unsure how to react to his demand and that confused her.
"What would you have me do?"
He held out his hand to hers. "Let me see."
She moistened her lips, feeling a little shaky, on unfamiliar ground, but she held out her hand to him so he could see the faint lines where the earth had healed the lacerations and knit the bone back together. She was unprepared for the feeling of his gentle fingers stroking over her skin. She felt his touch all the way to her deepest core, and then her heart stood still while his mouth moved over each of the faint white lines and his tongue swirled and stroked a velvet