Benedek thought he would alienate her by sharing his past, by proving that he wasn’t capable of love. She saw it much differently. She thought him capable; he just wasn’t in touch with his feelings. That didn’t mean she believed he would love her. He was willing to take her as his lifemate on loyalty and trust, not love. He’d made that clear.
Silke worried that she couldn’t possibly bring anything to the partnership to make things equal between them. Benedek was far too experienced for her to ever catch up. She hadn’t witnessed him in a battle, but from the little Tora had told her, he was extremely skilled. She wasn’t the best at fighting vampires. Demons, yes; vampires were a huge no.
“I lived to bring Carpathians like Marius to justice. After I lost the ability to hear the whispered temptations to kill for the rush, for the chance to feel once more, the silence in that world was deafening. But then, slowly I realized I felt the battles. I looked forward to them. That was emotion. Feeling. It was addicting to the point I craved the fights.”
The confession came out in his low raspy tone. For some reason, her body reacted to his specific tone. A part of her tried to analyze why she would react to that sound when she wasn’t susceptible to sound. A demon slayer couldn’t be compromised by a compelling voice. She had always been immune to the false, sweet voices demons could use—or anyone for that matter. Until Benedek.
“Do you understand what I’m sharing with you, Silke? This isn’t a good thing. You should be upset knowing the fraud and deceiver I am. Once I tie us together, there is no going back.”
She faced him, arching an eyebrow. “How are you a fraud? Or a deceiver?”
“The oath to you carved into my back. That is deceptive. Every one of my brethren has this same oath tattooed onto their backs for their lifemate. It was what kept us going for over two hundred years there in the monastery and then after, when we were all looking for our lifemates.”
Silke listened carefully to his explanation. He wasn’t even aware he had used “keptusgoing.” He hadn’t saidthe others. He had included himself. “Show me.”
His obsidian eyes drifted over her face, holding her still. Captivating her. There was the merest hint of possession in his gaze. He turned his back to her and removed his shirt.
Silke’s breath caught. Carpathian skin, as a rule, won’t hold a tattoo, especially for centuries, but the words he called an oath had been carved into his skin and then injected with an ink they had made. That ink had been delivered through an ancient method of tattooing.
“What does it say?” Because it was hers. Whether he wanted toadmit it or not, he had done that for her. Each word was his promise to her.
Benedek hesitated. Cleared his throat. That was strange when he had always been totally confident, even during the confession of his supposed sin.
“The Carpathian oath begins withOlen wäkeva kuntankért, which is ‘Staying strong for our people.’ ”
Silke paid attention to his voice. She couldn’t see his face, but she doubted if that would have done her any good anyway. He normally wore an expressionless mask. But she was merged in his mind, a silent shadow, and she hoped she could catch glimpses of Benedek’s true emotions.
“The second line,Olen wäkeva pita belso kulymet, means ‘Staying strong to keep the demon inside.’ ”
She found that line particularly interesting. She knew he believed he held a demon inside of him and that it grew stronger with every battle. She had caught glimpses of scars inside his soul. To him that was the mark of his failure.
Again, he had gone silent, almost reluctant to read the third line to her. She moved carefully through his mind, seeing the confusion in him. He was a very decisive man and being conflicted and unsure was not in his nature. It left him very distrustful.
“The third line reads,Olen wäkeva—félért ku vigyázak.”
Silke was patient. His tone had been raspier than ever. Lower. Almost more felt in his mind than heard with her ear. She saw into his thoughts. A very important oath. One he repeated often to himself after a battle when he’d been feeling the adrenaline and condemning himself. She spoke Carpathian and knew what it meant, but she wanted him to interpret it aloud so she could hear his voice and see what impact the vow had on his thoughts.
“It means ‘Staying strong for her.’ ”
That line meant something to him, whether he knew it or not. She suspected he was coming to realize all along he had stayed strong forhis lifemate, but in acknowledging that, his entire view of himself and his life would be upended.
“And the last line?” she prompted.
“Silke.” Benedek pulled his shirt over his back. His voice was barely there, as if he’d talked too much and his vocal cords had given out.
“The last line, Benedek,” she insisted.
He turned to face her, those dark eyes gleaming. Very gently he framed her face with his palms. “Hängemért.”
The single word was uttered in a low, almost loving voice. Definitely reverent. A whisper of a promise.
“ ‘Only her.’Hängemértmeans ‘only her.’ You, Silke. My lifemate. There will always be only you. No woman came before you. No woman will ever come after you. I can give you that vow. I may be a flawed Carpathian, but I can offer you loyalty like no other.”
The pad of his thumb slid across her full bottom lip, tracing the curve. A multitude of butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. It didn’t make sense that he could look at her with that focused stare, never blinking, and turn her inside out, yet each time he did.
“The vows I take with you will be forever imprinted on me and I will keep each one. I have that to give you. It may not sound like much, but I swear I will make you happy.”
He didn’t believe he was good enough for her.
