At first he thought it was her distrust of men, but as he merged his mind firmly within hers, he saw the fear was of Juliette and Jasmine realizing she was a killer-beyond saving, beyond hoping. There was no other way of life left for her. She didn't know if she could stop. Somewhere, she'd crossed a line and there was no going back.
And then he felt it, a soft warmth flowing gently into Solange's mind. He recognized MaryAnn's touch instantly, so light as almost not to be there, but steady and calming, a feeling of tranquillity and hope, bathing Solange in her warmth and absolute belief that life was good and filled with beauty and adventure and love.
He almost forgot himself, where he was, what he was doing, in awe of this woman who was his lifemate. She smoothly, seamlessly, blended with Solange, so that there was no way of knowing she had entered. He wouldn't have known if he hadn't exchanged blood with her, her touch was that light, but she filled Solange's mind with hope and belief. Under MaryAnn's influence, Solange grew cooperative, relaxing in the soothing cocoon of warmth. It was difficult to leave the comforting waves and seek out the torn and bleeding organs to repair them.
Manolito reluctantly allowed his spirit to travel through the body of the cat. Sergio had not wanted to kill her, but she had fought hard, and when the second jaguar had attacked her, it hadn't been so careful. The artery was nearly shredded, the jaguar body filled with blood. He knew what it meant, knew what had to be done to save her life. He let go of everything he was and became only healing energy, repairing every wound as quickly as possible, relying on MaryAnn to keep Solange cooperative.
MaryAnn held the male jaguar head in her lap, stroking the velvet fur, murmuring softly to keep him with her. He was struggling for breath, his lungs filling with blood. She kept talking to Solange as well, afraid if she quit, the woman would try to rip out Manolito's throat. It was a frightening situation, two people on the brink of death and only Manolito there to save them. Jasmine held towels to Solange's wounds and whispered to her, tears streaming down her face, fearful she was losing her.
Stay with us, Solange. MaryAnn prayed silently, trying to reach the other woman, to let her know that no matter how dark things seemed at the moment, it could all be better. It would be better. MaryAnn would make it her mission in life to help Solange and Jasmine after all the sacrifices they'd made rescuing women and helping them to a safe place.
Luiz was dying. She could see his life slipping away, see the spark fading from his eyes, and all she could do was watch helplessly. She willed him to live, the same way she willed Solange to have hope and see a future, but she couldn't do what Manolito was doing, healing from the inside out. How did you let go of everything you were and become an instrument of healing? She had seen Manolito sacrifice his life for a woman and unborn child. She had heard that he had gotten a scar around his throat, when Carpathians rarely scarred, from saving his prince. And now he had managed to let go of who he was in order to save a life.
Few could know what that really entailed, but she was with him, connected to him, and she realized just what had to be given up to become spirit. The body was vulnerable to all attacks, yes, but much more than that, Manolito had shed his personality, all ego, all hopes and dreams, his own needs, everything, and he had done so willingly.
She had been inside his mind when he had so quickly shed his opinions and ideas, his very personality, and become selfless in his effort to save Solange. She couldn't help but admire him. Manolito was a strong personality with set beliefs about women, yet with all that, he had immediately cast himself aside. What kind of true character did he have hidden under all that arrogance? And were his seemingly dominating ways with women maybe really about protection? His species certainly treasured their women and children. All of them. It didn't seem to matter that Shea was Jacques's lifemate, Manolito had stepped in front of her and taken the death strike meant for her without a qualm.
Live, Luiz. Hang on until he can help. He'll save your life. She was positive. She was in his head and she could see his absolute resolve to keep Solange alive. Manolito was so focused, so completely wrapped up in healing that he thought of nothing else. She saw goodness in him, something she might have missed if she hadn't been connected by his blood exchange, and for the first time she allowed herself to think about that exchange as something good. She might have dismissed the Carpathian as impossible if she didn't know about his other, much softer side.
She stroked back Luiz's hair, the gesture idle as she watched Manolito's face. Time seemed to stop. Everything around her faded until there was only Manolito. His eyes, dark and shadowed, with absurdly long lashes. They should have been feminine, but his face was too masculine, the strong jaw and straight nose. She felt his breath move in and out of her body. She felt his heart beat, strong and steady. Her heart. His. Luiz's. Solange's. They were all tied together by one man. One incredible man.