Dark Slayer - Christine Feehan [14]
Her breath hissed out of her lungs. “Do not ever say ‘my lifemate’ to me. I am not yours. I belong to no one. I trust no one, least of all the grandson of Xavier and a Dragonseeker on top of that.” She put every ounce of contempt and disgust that she could summon into her voice.
Before he could respond, Ivory switched her attention to Raja who, picking up on her mood, was baring his teeth again, low warning growls rumbling in his throat. Little brother, I have no patience now to deal with two males and their egos. Go to your mate who will soothe your nerves and leave me to deal with this... this... There was no word bad enough to describe him.
The wolf sent the Dragonseeker one last look of warning and then loped out of the room, leaving them alone in the bedchamber.
Ivory moved back across the floor until there was space between herself and the Dragonseeker. She pressed her back to the wall, fighting to maintain her composure. “It has been centuries since I have been alone in a room with another person,” she confessed. “I am no longer certain what one does.”
“You could start by telling me your name.”
He didn’t smile. He didn’t look at her as if the moon rose and set with her, as lifemates were reputed to do. He didn’t even argue that she did belong to him as every cell in her body screamed at her was true.
Ivory moistened her lips. “I am Ivory Malinov, sister to the five raising an army and a rebellion of vampires. Sister to the ones in league with Xavier.” She took a deep breath. “And this is not my true form.”
“I am Razvan, grandson of Rhiannon and Xavier. I am a dealer of death and torture to any who dare come near me, especially those I care most for. I will never lay claim to you, so have no worries, Ivory. I will leave you as soon as I am able to do so.” He tilted his head to one side and studied her flawless body. “Do you fear showing me your true form?”
Her chin went up. “I do not fear much of anything, Dragonseeker, least of all you.”
“I can see that,” he said, faint sarcasm sliding into his tone. “Though, in truth, you should fear me. Not me: Xavier. He can find me wherever I am. You must believe me in this.”
“I believe you. I studied under Xavier, many years ago. Far longer than I care to remember. I know him well—too well.”
“You displeased him in some way.” Razvan made it a statement.
She found she could barely breathe in the close confines of the room with the Dragonseeker’s hunger beating at her. Maybe it wasn’t just his hunger. Maybe it was the way his eyes moved over her with a hint of possession, a male’s intense look of interest. No one had looked at her that way since the prince’s eldest son—and that hadn’t turned out so well.
Her skin ached. Her bones. She’d forgotten that pain, or at least pushed it so far back in her memories that it was dull and faded. Now, looking at him looking at her, asking her questions, her body remembered the feel of sharp objects slicing through bone and tissue.
“Ivory,” he prompted, his voice gentle. “What did you do to displease him?”
She sank down along the wall, drew up her knees and clasped her arms around her legs, making herself much smaller. “I wanted to go to Xavier’s school and learn from him. My brothers and five of their friends raised me. Ten strong warriors indulging my every whim. I learned how to fight, but was never allowed to use my knowledge. I could do things no other woman could do, yet was expected to sit home and wait for a lifemate to provide safety for me.” She shook her head, remembering the frustration of having an active brain desperate for knowledge, any kind, and running into a stone wall as her brothers refused to allow her any freedoms.
She rubbed her chin on her knees. “At that time, Vlad Dubrinsky was the prince.” She was giving him a very convoluted explanation, rambling on instead of making it short and succinct. She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I think it has been so long since I have carried on a conversation with anyone but my pack that I have forgotten how.” She rubbed her palm up