Benedek indicated the women as they turned from his body and looked up toward the darkened sky. The badgers had taken the hole down at least twelve feet and were still digging. A wave of power emanated from the resting place. There was nothing in the least feminine about that power. It was solidly masculine.
Benedek raised the four women from the hole. The badgers continued to dig, dropping him deeper and deeper into the soil. Silke had no idea how far down they put him, but it was the deepest she’d ever seen. The soil sparkled with minerals and healing properties. All four of thewitte wievenwomen sprinkled a mixture of herbs, flowers and powders over Benedek’s resting place and his battered body while they chanted.
The badgers suddenly ceased their work and clawed their way to the surface. Immediately, soil poured into the hole, covering Benedek’s body completely. Silke found she couldn’t look away. Once again, she found her lungs were burning raw. She was unable to pull in air, suffocating, her nose and mouth refusing to draw the much-needed oxygen into her lungs. Panic welled up.
“You are not underground,sivamet.You are here with me. We are merely observers. We could be watching a play unfolding, but it isn’t interactive.”
She realized it felt real because she was merged with Benedek. It was real to him because he’d lived through it. Still, it was strange that she’d had such a reaction and even now had to force herself to breathe deeply. Her reaction? Or his?
He felt perfectly calm, but he didn’t always acknowledge his emotions. Was it even possible for a Carpathian to feel as if they were suffocating?
“This is probably a silly question, Benedek.” She was going to ask him, even if he made fun of her later.
“There are no silly questions. If you want to know something, just ask. If I am able to answer you, I will. Not that I can guarantee you’ll always like the answer,” he warned.
She leaned her head against his chest. Her heart beat that little bit too fast. “When the soil closed over your head, did you feel as if you were suffocating?”
“I am Carpathian. The soil is rejuvenating. I needed to be deep, where my father and brothers couldn’t detect where I was sleeping.”
She remained silent. Waiting. He hadn’t answered the question. He dropped his arms from around her, and at once she felt alone. She was used to being alone, so it didn’t make sense to her that she was vaguely upset. She didn’t let men touch her, yet she was already missing the way it felt to be held by him.
Benedek gently turned her to face him. “Do you want to know because it will be one more thing for you to put on your list of why you don’t want to be Carpathian?”
She hadn’t thought of that. Not even subconsciously. She’d been thinking only of Benedek. “No. I had such an unusually strong reaction that it didn’t make sense to me. I just thought maybe I was tapping into your memories.”
He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He could disarm her every time with how gentle he was when he touched her. His gentleness was at such odds with his rough looks.
“Despite the women helping me and giving me blood, I was weak. Very weak. I couldn’t get the wound in my throat to close properly.”
Her gaze jumped to the thin white scar encircling his throat. She knew a wound had to be mortal for a Carpathian to scar. That scar swept around his throat. She knew the cut had been very deep. His brother had nearly hacked off his head.
She couldn’t resist the impulse to slide the pad of one finger along the scar, tracing it around his throat. His skin was surprisingly warm.Hot even. The moment she touched him, she knew it was a mistake. She felt her skin melting into his. Merging with him. Belonging. It was the oddest feeling and one she didn’t want. She was already feeling emotional. Watching his past unfold had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Sharing his past in the way she had only added to the growing ties between them. Now it seemed as if physically she had somehow tied herself to him as well.
“I found myself choking on blood. I should have shut down my heart and lungs immediately, but I wanted to make certain the meadow looked as if I had died there, my body burnt in the sunrise as my family expected. I also had to erase any evidence of the wise women coming to aid me. If Marius caught even a hint that someone had helped me, he would torture them before he killed them. It wouldn’t matter what age they were.”
Once again, as if a compulsion was on her, Silke had to touch him. To offer comfort. He didn’t seem to want or need it from her, butsheneeded it. She placed her palm on the side of his face, feeling the shadowy bristles along his jaw. Her fingertips explored all those angles and planes, committing him to memory by touch.
Silke thought he might pull away from her. She was being far too intimate, and like her, he wasn’t used to others touching him. Without flinching, he endured the way her fingers mapped out his features. She was meticulous, finding every line, every tiny detail, until she knew she would be able to map out his face on the darkest night.
“I have no idea why your touch has such an effect on me.”
Not only did Benedek sound confused, but she felt his confusion.
“What kind of effect?” Touching him affected her. She hoped he felt similar things.
“There is a place inside me. Deep. Dark. Ice-cold. It’s where I put the rage I awakened from the attack with. It’s ugly, and I’ve never been able to rid myself of it. Hunters don’t feel, Silke.”
His gaze remained steady on hers. She knew he expected condemnation from her at his confession yet still he continued. She also wasaware he had never told a single soul the things he was sharing with her. She couldn’t help but like that he was going to tell her things that had been kept secret for centuries.
“If Marius hadn’t spotted me and decided to abduct and raise me as his son, my parents could very well still be alive.”
That shocked her. “Benedek.” She whispered his name. “You can’t possibly blame yourself for the death of your parents. You were a baby. You don’t even have a real memory of them.”
“Somewhere I must. I don’t forget anything. Most Carpathians lose their memories. I didn’t. Other than the one that would have been the most important.” For the first time, he shoved his hand through his thick hair, betraying agitation. Guilt. Shame. “I didn’t realize Marius wasn’t my birth father or that Fawn wasn’t my birth mother. I should have known. I knew I didn’t fit in.”
Silke was beginning to understand why Benedek felt he had no heart. The child abuse taking place in his home while he grew up and then the heartbreak of betrayal by his entire family had laid that solid foundation for mistrust. She had no doubt that over the centuries he had seen and experienced much more betrayal.
For Silke, it was the worst knowing he blamed himself for his birth parents’ deaths. He hadn’t even been two years old when he’d been taken. If he did have memories of his birth parents, she was going to make it her mission in life to locate them.
