Dark Lycan by Christine Feehan Page A

defiance, only implacability. Tatijana was not a woman to be pushed around and he found he admired her all the more for that. She was a fitting partner for him, which made it all the more difficult to protect her from his life—and herself.
    She gave an inelegant snort of pure disdain. If I choose to be claimed by you, then I will share your blood with open eyes. This is not your decision alone, Fen. It is a mutual decision. My lifemate is my partner, not my keeper.
    Again there was truth in what she said. He was both Carpathian and Lycan. If he claimed her and shared his life with her, there could be no half measures. I understand, Tatijana, he replied. What else could he say when she had a point he couldn’t refute.
    She was his miracle and he wanted to wrap her up in a safety net and always make certain she was protected.
    Have you considered that I might think you’re a miracle? That I want to make certain that you’re safe at all times? Why should that be only your prerogative?
    Below him was the body of the man who had been killed by the rogue werewolves. His body was torn almost beyond recognition. If it was found in its present state, all real wolves in the vicinity would be threatened. There would be an outcry for justice and hunters would be overrunning the forest and mountains to wipe out the dangerous packs. In the meantime, the rogue werewolves would move on to new territories or begin killing the villagers.
    They don’t know they are in Carpathian territory, do they?
    I doubt it. Not even Bardolf would know. If he’s the one who stirred the pack in this direction, he certainly didn’t. He was Lycan, not Carpathian, and he would have no knowledge of this culture or the fact that the prince is in residence here.
    Fen dropped down to the forest floor. The body was exactly where he and Tatijana had stumbled across it earlier, but something about it caught his attention. He circled warily. He needed to conserve his strength in the event he managed to track Bardolf to his lair. Even in his present condition, the vampire would be lethal. After meeting Fen, recognizing what Fen was, Bardolf would move on as soon as he could. Now would be the optimum time to destroy him.
    What is it?
    That tinge of worry in her voice warmed him, showing him more than ever that he was no longer alone. She might not want to be claimed, but she was his.
    Concentrate on what you’re doing or you’re going to get yourself killed, wolf man. We’ll never find out about this lifemate business if you keep trying to play the hero.
    Trying? He gave her a male smirk. The branches above his head tapped together in the wind. There was no wind. The air had gone still, yet that tapping persisted—a consistent, steady, very rhythmic beat. I was the hero tonight, my lady. You clearly weren’t paying attention, which makes it necessary to repeat myself. He let her hear the clacking of the branches.
    I see. You think it necessary to impress me. She listened to the rhythm. That sound is one Xavier used to ensnare his victims. It’s hypnotic on a subtle level. Whoever is using it was once trained by the mages. It is not natural.
    What is going on here? A rogue pack has entered Carpathian territory with Bardolf, a wolf/vampire combination. And now another enemy? This makes no sense.
    Perhaps it does, Fen, Tatijana mused. The prince’s lifemate, Raven, has a son. His daughter, Savannah, has twin girls. She is lifemated to the prince’s second-in-command. These children will grow into great power. Would it be so farfetched to think that enemies of the Carpathian people would be drawn here?
    Fen circled the torn body. The werewolves had nearly pulled the man apart in their initial attack. Rogue packs enjoyed torturing and killing their victims and often fed on them even while their victims were still alive. The elite hunters, much like Carpathian hunters, had no choice but to destroy them. This body had been left as bait. It wasn’t an unusual