“My soul was passed from mother to daughter until I could locatemy lifemate and claim her. Silke was always meant to be my lifemate. It is why she never married or wanted another man. She already had a man.”
He shifted his gaze to catch Silke’s reaction to his declaration. He’d made it a statement because everything he said was the simple truth. She didn’t like it. She knew she had never been with another man because she belonged with him, she just didn’t want to see it that way.
“That’s not true,” she denied.
“Silke.” He said her name softly. Gently. A reprimand. “There is no question, and you are very aware of that fact. Why would you deny it?”
She lifted her chin at him. “Because we aren’t compatible.”
He allowed the faintest of smiles to slide through their merged minds. “I think we have plenty of time to determine that.”
Fenja waved her hand to get their attention. “How can Silke give your soul back to you?”
“There is only one way. When I bind Silke to me, the two halves will bind as well.”
Silke was already shaking her head. “No binding. I don’t like the sound of that.”
Fenja frowned at her. “Be calm, Silke. We are merely getting pertinent information. Please continue, Benedek. How do you bind my daughter to you, and what does that mean?”
“Every male Carpathian has the binding ritual imprinted on him before his birth. When he meets his lifemate, he must say the vows to her. Those words are powerful and essentially make the two of them one. Once the vows are said, it is impossible to reverse the fastening between man and woman. It is our marriage ceremony, and it is for eternity.”
Again, he was very matter-of-fact. He didn’t try to pretty it up. It was what it was. Silke was going to have to face the truth whether she was ready or not.
Silke shrugged as if she wasn’t worried. “Just say the words, get your soul back, and we can part ways.”
“You deliberately weren’t listening to me,” Benedek said. His voice was tired. That happened sometimes. He preferred not to talk if he didn’t have to. The damage to his vocal cords had never healed properly. It didn’t bother him. The attack had been centuries ago, when he was very young. He had been lucky to live through getting his head nearly hacked off. If his vocal cords were the sacrifice, he got the best of the exchange. He’d lived to bring down some of the most depraved Carpathians, vampires, demons and even humans.
Sitting in that chair, looking across at the woman fate had chosen for him, he realized this was no longer about his soul and getting it back. This was about the woman. In the close confines of the room, he inhaled her scent. She belonged in his lungs. Although he had muted the colors until he was nearly seeing only in gray, she was still vivid to him. Bright, like the full moon. Hair silver and gold. Eyes the color of true sapphires. Yeah, he saw her in color when everything around her was gray.
“What happens if you don’t reclaim your soul? If Silke doesn’t cooperate?” Fenja asked.
He gave her the stark truth—just not all of it. “I would have the choice of suiciding or becoming vampire.” He didn’t mention the third choice—simply binding Silke to him without her consent. In their world, that third choice was expected by both parties.
He heard Silke gasp and immediately gave her his full focus, moving through her mind to read her thoughts. She refused to consider he would make either of those choices. She rejected them completely.
“No.” She said it firmly. “There has to be another way. You spent centuries fighting for your people. You lived with a code of honor. You can’t turn vampire at this late date. And suicide is out. What are your other choices? There have to be more.”
They were getting somewhere. And she was opening doors for him. Giving him answers. “The more is to come to an agreement with my lifemate. One she can live with. One she’s willing to live with.”
Her long lashes fluttered, drawing his attention. For some unexplained reason, his gut tightened. Blood moved through his veins in a heated rush. She definitely was ensnaring him. He would need to call on his centuries of discipline if he was going to win this most important battle.
Silke shoved her hand through her thick hair. He could see she was trembling. She didn’t try to hide her reaction from him. He had the unexpected urge to pull her into his arms in an effort to comfort her. He didn’t think at this stage that was a good idea, so he stayed still and waited.
The tip of her tongue moistened her lips. She glanced toward her mother and then took a breath. Her fingers were twisted together so tightly he feared she might break them. That chin of hers went up and his body hardened, blood pooling low and wicked. This woman could break him if he wasn’t careful.
“If I’m hearing you correctly, just saying the words to me is all it would take to bind us together.” Her gaze met his without flinching.
Benedek inclined his head. She was getting it. He knew she would.
“It wouldn’t require my consent to work, would it?”
“No.” That was honesty.
Fenja gasped, her hand going protectively to her throat. Strangely, the answer seemed to bolster Silke’s confidence, not create more nerves.
“But you haven’t done that, even though you know I object to our union.”
“You object because you haven’t given yourself time to understand. If I were in your place, I would be feeling exactly what you are.”
