Dark Curse by Christine Feehan Read Free Book Online

arms of a vampire.
    As a child, she had been used solely for food. Her father and great-grandfather had ripped into her veins and taken from her as if she were nothing, not human, not Carpathian and certainly not mage. She had been a food source and nothing more.
    Rage swept through her. Shook her. Took her by surprise. She had never been so angry in her life. And yet, after the initial bite, the dark, erotic seduction made some part of her want to be a part of him, made her want to succumb to the fire and heat—to give her life for his.
    Clenching her teeth, she fought the sensation of need and desire pulsing through her body. She wouldn't go that easily, or give in. She had no idea a vampire could be so cunning. One minute triggering an alarm, the next warning her off and then the bite. The absolute seduction of that bite.
    She gripped the knife in her fist and tried to get a little room in order to move her hand toward his ribs, but she was facing away from him and it was difficult to feel where he was when lightning sizzled and crackled in her veins, robbing her of her ability to think.
    Nicolas was so far gone in the ecstasy of her taste and shape and feel that it took a moment to register that she had spoken. Let go of me, you bastard . The words echoed in his mind, burst through his subconscious and took a hold of his heart.
    Emotion flooded in with dizzying speed. Fast and sharp and jumbled so that it was impossible to sort anything out. The love he felt for his brothers came tumbling into his heart and mind. Anger. Rage that he had been following an honorable path yet had been so close to turning. Shame. For the near brush with the monster he had been hunting for centuries. More shame for the sins he had yet to confess to the prince—sins committed against the leader of their people. Not in action, but in their hearts and minds of Nicolas and his brother. Joy for the woman in his arms who would save him from a fate that would have dishonored not only him, but his family as well.
    So much to try to sort out all at once. And all while his body was hard and hurting, his groin so full and thick the material of his clothes caused physical pain. He wanted her. Needed her. Had to have her. The taste of her was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. This woman. His lifemate. The woman he had searched for across several continents, the woman he had spent centuries looking for. The only woman who could restore his emotions.
    He opened his eyes and her hair dazzled him. There in the darkness it burned bright red, but as he watched, his eyes played tricks on him, so that waves of colors glowed metallic and coppery. He couldn't find the strength of will to pull away from her, to stop the sweet fire sliding down his throat, tying them together in the way of his people. Somewhere, far off, he could hear his own mind screaming at him that he was losing his mind, that he had found her too late and that he was killing her, but he couldn't stop.
    Pain ripped through his left side, startling him out of his trancelike state. He jerked his head up without swiping his tongue across the twin pinpricks at her pulse to close the wound. Blood trickled down her neck into the earthy tones of her sweater. He could see the garment, a dazzling color, hues of browns and gold, with red drops scattering and pooling in the yarn.
    Color, after centuries of shades of gray. Beautiful, amazing color. He looked down at his side from where the pain emanated. The handle of a knife stuck out of his ribs. She stepped back away from him and spun to face him. Her eyes were twin jewels, burning bright, a deep emerald, not just green, but actually emerald. Even as he watched, the color swirled and changed, going from deep green to arctic blue. The blue was the color of the ice glaciers, clean and pure and ice-cold, but burning with intensity and fire.
    He smiled at her. " Te avio päläfertiilam. Éntölam kuulua, avio päläfertiilam ."
    His voice was low, a dark