Dark Prince by Christine Feehan

receive God's blessing, and go back to your woman. You will find a way to protect your wind."
    Mikhail knelt obediently, his head bent, allowing the peace of the old man and his words to comfort him. Outside, the fury of the storm abated abruptly, as if it had spent its anger and now could rest in the aftermath.
    "Thank you, Father," Mikhail whispered.
    "Do what you must to protect your race, Mikhail. In the eyes of God, they are His children."
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    Chapter Four
    Mikhail wrapped his arms around Raven's slender form, pulled her tight against his hard frame. His body curved protectively around hers. She was heavily asleep, her body light, her face pale. There were deep shadows beneath her eyes. He whispered to her softly. "I am sorry for this, little one, sorry I have placed you in this position. Beast that I am, I know I would do it again. You will not die; I cannot allow it."
    He traced a line over the vein in his wrist, filled the glass beside his bed with the dark red liquid. Hear me, Raven. You need this drink. Obey me at once. He pressed the glass to her pale lips, tilted some of the contents down her throat. His blood was very healing, would ensure her life.
    Raven choked, gagged, tried to turn her head away as she had before. Obey me at once. You will drink all of it. His command was stronger this time. She detested the contents, her body striving to reject it, but the force of his will won, as it always did.
    Mikhail ! He heard the forlorn cry in his head.
    You must drink, Raven. Continue your trust in me.
    She relaxed and sank back into the layers of sleep, obeying him reluctantly.
    Mikhail had caught a brief glimpse of her confused thoughts, the swirl of alarmed emotions. She believed she was fighting a nightmare. Her color was better. Satisfied, he lay down beside her. She would remember the blood exchange as only a part of her nightmare. He propped himself up on one elbow, taking the time to study her face, her long thick lashes, her flawless skin and high cheekbones. It wasn't just her beauty, he knew that; it was what was inside her, the compassion and light that allowed her to accept his wild, untamed nature.
    It was beyond his imagination that such a miracle could occur. Just when he knew he would walk into the sun without hesitation, he had been sent an angel. A slow smile softened his mouth. His angel refused to do anything he told her. She responded far better when he thought to ask. He had been too long accustomed to obedience from all those under his protection. He had to remember that she was mortal, raised in a different time, with different values. It was imprinted on male Carpathians before their births that it was their duty to protect the women and children. With few women and no female children born in the last centuries, it was essential to safeguard every woman they had.
    Raven was mortal, not Carpathian. She did not belong in his world. When she left, she would take his color and emotions with her. She would take the very air he breathed. He closed his eyes against the thought. Where would he find the strength to let her walk away? He had so much to do before sunrise. He wanted to stay with her, hold her, persuade her not to leave him, tell her what was in his heart, tell her what she meant to him, tell her she couldn't leave him, that he might not survive. He wouldn't survive.
    He sighed heavily, rose once more. He needed to replenish himself, get to work. Again he crushed healing herbs, then thrust her more deeply into sleep. He was meticulous about the safeguards in his home and added a command to the creatures in the forest. If anyone came near his lair, threatened her in any way, he would know immediately.
    At Mikhail's call, Jacques and Byron met him in the trees above Noelle and Rand's home. Once the body had been discovered, it had been properly burned, as was their way. "You touched nothing else?" Mikhail asked.
    "Only the body. All of their clothes and personal items were left as we found