Dark Storm (Dark #23)(45)
Author: Christine Feehan

"Riley …" Gary held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

"I did. Forgive me if I offend, palafertiilam. Your thoughts are very strong. I-" His voice hitched, and his expression flickered for an instant before he continued, "I must remind myself you are not familiar with Carpathian ways. I did not mean to intrude."

She frowned. That flicker in his expression had been a wince. He was in pain. Glancing at the still-dreadful gaping wound in his chest, concern overrode fear. "Sit down. Sit down and do whatever it is you need to do to heal yourself."

She laid a hand on his arm, intending to help him down, but the moment her flesh touched his, agony rocketed up her arm. She gasped and yanked her hand back. The pain vanished instantly.

"Dear God, was that you?" She touched him again, and almost screamed. "It is. My God, it is. How can you bear it? You’re in agony." She hadn’t thought about what terrible pain he must be in when he first stood up, tall and strong. He was a freaking vampire or hunter or whatever he was. Mythical creatures weren’t supposed to suffer, they weren’t supposed to hurt-but he did, and it was excruciating. She knew it. When she touched him, she could feel it as clearly as if it were happening in her own body.

Unable to help herself, she touched him again. Something inside her demanded that she help him, that she heal him. It was almost a compulsion.

Clearly, Dax wasn’t the one compelling her, because he gently pulled her hand away. "Do not, palafertiilam. We cannot keep all the pain in check, and I would not have you hurt yourself on my account."

"We? Who’s we?" she asked in a distracted voice. Her attention was already, inexorably pulled back to Dax’s injuries. Looking at the wound, she could almost feel it herself. As if she were traveling inside his body, touching each raw nerve ending, broken bone and shredded muscle, feeling with gifts that had been passed down from generation to generation. Dax’s pain called to her, tore something deep inside, some barrier she hadn’t realized existed.

Riley lifted her hand again and slowly placed it over the mud-packed hole over Dax’s heart. She pressed her palm against the wound, packing the earth deeper into the wound, completely unaware of what she was doing. Only aware that she needed to continue. There was something wrong inside him, something that seemed intent on consuming him. Sheer force of will held it in check. His will, stronger than the mountains, stronger than the earth itself.

Her hand lifted, leaving a perfect handprint in the mud. She raised the same hand to his face and touched his cheek, wiping the blood and dirt from his cheek and trailing it slowly down his throat back over his heart. Words and patterns blossomed inside her mind. Power rose as Riley looked into Dax’s eyes, iridescent, beautiful eyes and focused on the gleam of scarlet fire that flickered in their depths.

She slid an arm around Dax’s side, placing one hand over his heart and the other in the same spot on his back. Then she unleashed the power that was now a throbbing beat inside her. The raw, earthy force flooded through her hands, and Dax’s body devoured it. The power consumed the earth packed in his wounds and transformed the dense, rich, organic matter into skin, bone and muscle. She had no control over what happened next, no comprehension of how it happened. She only knew that the power in her called to the power in him, using the earth that bound them both together. Bones knit, nerves re-formed, tissues and blood vessels regrew with astonishing speed.

When it was done, Riley’s consciousness came rushing back to her body. She sagged against him. Now, it was his arms coming up to steady her. She stared up at him, dazed, still feeling everything he was, as if she were connected to him, as if she were part of him. She knew she had somehow, miraculously, healed him. Healed him completely. Yet, it still felt like she’d missed something. He was still in so much pain, and he shouldn’t be.

Riley’s brow crinkled as she tried to work through the confusion. Her eyelids became very heavy and it was suddenly all she could do to try to keep them open. The effort was too much for her. Exhausted, blackness swallowed her up, and she collapsed in the arms of the hunter.

Dax found himself smiling down at his lifemate. What a gift she possesses. She had healed him-and not with methods known and used by Carpathians, but by manipulating the earth itself. She had touched him, and the earth in his wounds had transformed at her command. Dax checked his wounds, flexing his muscles experimentally. The hole Mitro had torn in his chest was gone. The countless, bone-deep slashes torn by razor-sharp talons had knitted together, leaving not even the smallest seam to prove they’d ever existed. He’d not even needed to go to ground!

Even Arabejila, more gifted in earth than any Carpathian he’d ever known, had never possessed such an amazing talent.

And his lifemate was human, to boot. That made her existence even more of a miracle. He’d never heard that a Carpathian and a human could be lifemates.

Not that it mattered. She was here, in his arms, and he was more content than he’d ever dreamed possible just holding her and breathing in her scent. Even the Old One seemed entranced by her. She smelled of wildflowers over spring rain, a miracle of fresh beauty in the midst of Mitro and the volcano’s destruction.

While she was healing him, his soul recognized and cried out for hers. He felt her soul answer. She didn’t recognize the calling, only the flash of pain at the knowledge that she was so close and yet they weren’t joined. Deep inside him, the second soul had reached for her as well, already so much a part of Dax, that the dragon knew Riley was their salvation.

His thoughts turned immediately to her welfare. She must be the one he’d felt trying to keep the volcano contained, and no doubt the effort of those exertions as well as the miraculous way she’d healed him had clearly exhausted her, leading to her collapse. He checked her carefully, just in case, but her only injuries were minor cuts and bruises from her race through the jungle, and those he mended with a thought. She needed sleep, then water and food, but the latter could wait until she awakened.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even smudged with dirt and ash, she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld, and she seemed so fragile in his arms. The mere thought of the slightest harm befalling her made his muscles clench and the Old One strain against Dax’s control. He and the dragon, both, were united in their determination to protect her. With a thought, Dax cleansed the ash and dirt from her body, leaving her and her clothing clean.

Dax finally tore his gaze from his lifemate, and turned his attention to the two men who had offered him their wrists. Jubal and Gary were friends to the Carpathian people. He’d learned their names and searched their memories when he took their blood, and used that connection to absorb their language, a more modern dialect of the language he’d correctly identified as English. They were now under his protection as well. As for Ben, Dax owed the man a debt for the way he had stayed to protect Riley despite the danger to himself.