She kept her eyes on his, and the one time he reached to get a cool cloth, her hands tightened on him and he brought his gaze back to hers. He heard her protest in his mind and knew she was trusting him to get her through and that meant his eyes were on hers at all times.
She was sick, a wrenching terrible cost as her body rid itself of all toxins, and the vomiting seemed to last for far too long. It was brutal and ugly and she still never protested. Her body convulsed and she held on to him tightly, to his hand, and when she couldn’t hold him anymore, he held her.
Hän sívamak, you are so brave. So very brave. We are almost done.
Fane talked to her using a mixture of his ancient language and her English, holding her to him all the while. Rocking her. Telling her of his life. Of the nights he’d held on to his dream of a lifemate. Of the woman who would be his someday. He explained Carpathian life to her. The pros. The cons. He kept his voice low and soothing, but mostly, he wanted her to know he was there with her. In her mind. Feeling the brutality of the conversion with her.
When he realized the terrible waves of pain had begun to lessen and he was certain he could do it, he leaned close, his mouth against her ear, even though he spoke in her mind. He wanted her to feel the brush of a kiss there when he spoke.
I will send you to sleep, Trixie. You no longer have to bear this burden. I can do so for you.
She shook her head, her fingers tightening around his. Did Teagan go through this? Was Andre as good with her as you have been with me?
Fane didn’t feel as if he was good with her. She was the one who had suffered. He’d tried to bear the brunt of the pain, but it had been impossible. He couldn’t send her to sleep until it was safe to do so. Now she didn’t want to sleep. He could see and feel her exhaustion and already another wave of pain rushed through her body. Just like in the beginning, she breathed her way through it.
“Yes, beloved,” he murmured aloud, “Teagan was converted by Andre. It is a painful process. We cannot take the pain away as much as we would like to do so. I am certain he was good to her. For Andre, the moon rises and sets with her.”
She was silent, waiting for the pain to ebb away. “You do know this wasn’t just painful, it was also humiliating for you to see me this way.”
Her gaze still clung to his. He forced a reassuring smile when he really wanted to weep for the agony he’d put her through. “If you go through something so painful and life altering, I will go through it with you. You will never be alone again.”
Another ripple of pain caught at her. Clearly the worst wasn’t over. He smoothed back her hair, and with a wave of his hand, cleaned her, the bed and the floor.
“That will come in handy.” She managed a smile. Her hands clung to his. Her eyes hadn’t moved from his. “I never did like housekeeping much.”
“You trusted me,” Fane murmured softly, his hand splayed across her stomach where he knew it felt much like a blowtorch had been taken to her insides. Her grip on him didn’t waver. He leaned down to sip at the tears leaking from her eyes. She didn’t need to know they were bloodred.
“You said you would get me through it, and I felt you there with me. I listened to our song.”
“Our song?”
She nodded. “Your song and my song have blended together and I can’t tell where yours starts because mine is so completely embedded in yours.”
He still wasn’t certain what she was saying. He could see the musical notes in her mind, silver and gold, moving around them in the air, sometimes close, sometimes spreading out. He couldn’t see them without looking in her mind.
“That’s how I found this place.” She gasped and shuddered, her hands tightening on his wrists while she breathed deeply, breathed her way through the rippling pain.
Fane breathed with her, staring into her eyes. Inside her mind, he could see the musical notes turn to crimson and ruby. The notes blazed brightly, so brightly it hurt his eyes. Intermingled with the crimson and ruby notes were others in purple and black. Sorrow. Pain. He knew her song had merged with his.
“You take my breath away,” he said softly. “Even in this, when pain surrounds you, there is such beauty. Your song is amazing, Trixie. It’s all about love and acceptance.”
She moistened her lips. “So is yours.”
“We fit.”
She nodded. “I will not be so easy to live with.”
He heard the warning in her voice. She thought herself so tough. She had no idea of the dangerous man he was. He would never be dangerous to her, but he would guard her fiercely. He wanted her to have her life—the one a young girl had dreamt of. He was the man who would be at her back and catch her every time she might fall. He didn’t mind her little penchant for violence—he found it amused him, and most things didn’t amuse him.