permission. She had done enough begging from men. As a child, she'd had to perform vile disgusting acts for food. She'd had to seek permission to sleep, to go to the bathroom, just to speak. Her life had been hell and she would not return to that—she'd rather be dead.
Never, baby . Francesca's voice whispered through her mind. A pure love, unconditional, a promise that would always be kept. No one will ever hurt you like that again and live. I am your mother now and will protect you with every fiber of my being. Dimitri seems cruel and unfeeling, but in truth, his emotions are too overwhelming for him to control, so to protect you and all of us, he has to push his feelings aside and become a ruthless warrior. It is what he knows .
And who he is , Skyler said. He's violence personified. I've seen into his mind. He merged with me and I could see him killing without thought, without remorse. He thinks to control me. To make me do as he says .
All Carpathian males think that way. They are control freaks. Even our beloved Gabriel. You are too young and although his every instinct is pushing him to take you now, Dimitri is trying to hold back and give you what is yours — time .
"I will confess I do not like it, but I am probably being overprotective. I cannot bear to see—or feel you suffer." Dimitri bowed slightly from the waist in an old-world gesture. "Then you shall go."
Skyler bit back her retort. She would have gone anyway. She didn't need him—a virtual stranger—telling her what she could or couldn't do.
"I was on my way to see Julian," Mikhail announced, deciding it was time to ease the obvious tension. "I know he loves a good time and I wanted to alert him to tonight's main surprise."
"There is a surprise?" Gabriel sounded wary.
"Raven wants St. Nick to show up, dressed in red," Mikhail said smugly. "The children will be expecting it."
Francesca bit her lip, suppressing a sudden smile when Gabriel actually stepped behind her as if for protection. Big baby .
Mikhail is up to something. I am not going to play dress-up in red tights.
Francesca burst out laughing. "Santa Claus does not wear red tights, you nut."
Mikhail flashed her a smile. "Do you think Gregori is aware of that? He is, after all, my son-in-law, and has a duty to do as I ask. Red tights might look good on him."
"You wouldn't," Gabriel said, a slow grin spreading across his face.
Dimitri raised an eyebrow. "Gregori? The bogeyman of Carpathians?"
"He'll scare the children, Mikhail," Francesca objected. "You aren't really going to ask him to be Santa Claus, are you?"
"Yes, of course."
"I want to be there. I think Lucian and I need to go visit our younger brother," Gabriel said. "Be certain to let me know when you are going to his house so I can drop by at the same time."
"That's just mean," Francesca scolded laughingly. "And don't you dare tell him Santa wears red tights. Just the idea of Gregori in red tights is enough to scare everyone."
"There are benefits to being prince after all," Mikhail said.
Skyler cleared her throat. "This is a joke—right?"
Mikhail looked smug. "A fine joke on Gregori, little one. I had better go. I have too many things to do. I have sent the word, Dimitri, to all the others that our women and children must be guarded at all times, especially our Skyler."
Skyler tipped back her head to look up at Dimitri. In spite of herself, she had to admit he was handsome, with the face of man, not a boy. His eyes were so alive, so deeply blue they could either burn or freeze one. He lifted both hands and ran them through his shiny black hair, pushing it back away from his face. Muscles flexed and rippled. He was standing away from her, but she felt his fingers touch her own hair, sliding through the silky strands in a slow, intimate way. Her stomach did a curious flip. Far off she heard a wolf howl. Dimitri turned his head toward the sound.
"He sounds so plaintive—so lonely," Skyler whispered, the mournful howl
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