She saw it clearly. His entire life. Finding his mother and father, stakes driven through their hearts, their heads cut off. The terrible years of the vampire killings in Europe. So many women and children lost to the stakes. Then the hunts. The wars. So many friends turning. Gregori hunting them down to destroy their evil power overhumans and Carpathians alike. Century after century. Endless. So much blood, so many dying at his hands. Each death took a part of him until it was impossible to face the other Carpathians, until he dared not befriend any of them. He was sentenced to an eternity of isolation. So alone. Always alone. The bleak and empty world of his existence nearly overwhelmed her with sorrow, bringing tears to her eyes. Who could possibly live year after year in such an empty void and survive with his soul intact? It was impossible.

Knowledge had been his only friend. He had always been a rebel. No authority could hope to hold him, only his loyalty to Mikhail. He had his own rigid code of honor, which he was unswerving in following. Honor was his life. Yet he felt he had compromised even that in the way he had acquired Savannah.

When Savannah had refused to examine his mind so that he could prove to her that she had brought him back from the other side, so that she would be unafraid, know he was incapable of ever harming her again, she had refused out of respect for him. Yet he believed she had been rejecting him. He believed she could never really forgive the things in his life he had been chosen to do. He couldn’t forgive himself.

She saw it all. Every dark, dangerous deed. Every dark, ugly kill. Every law he had broken. But most of all she saw his greatness. Time and time again, he had given of himself to heal others, draining his great strength, putting himself in danger over and over that others might live. A lifetime of selfless service to a people who grew to fear the very power they relied on. While none of the ugliness of the hunt, none of the danger, touched the others, he lived in constant readiness. He accepted the necessity of his solitary existence, his strict isolation. He had come to believe the Carpathians were right to fear him. And Savannah saw that they were right. He wielded far too much power for one individual, carried far too much weight on his broad shoulders.

For centuries Gregori had no real anchor in their world, no emotions to keep him from turning. There had been only his strength and determination. His will of iron. His strict code of honor. His loyalty to Mikhail and his belief that their race had a place in the world. His resolve to prevent the children of their race from dying, a way to find true lifemates for the men to keep them from turning vampire. Mikhail’s finding Raven had given him a measure of relief in the form of hope. Still, once Savannah had been conceived, the world had turned into a long, endless hell for Gregori. Each minute had turned to an hour, each hour into a day, until he was nearly mad with waiting for her.

Upon Savannah’s refusal of their union, he had made a vow to himself to give her five years of freedom. He felt that since she would be tied forever to one who would rule her life absolutely, he owed her at least that small amount of time. To Gregori, every moment was an agony of holding out against the darkness so deeply entrenched in him. He had waited until he knew he would succumb, until he knew he would no longer have the wisdom or desire to choose the dawn—self-destruction, the only honorable option for a Carpathian about to turn vampire. He had fulfilled his vow of freedom for her and in doing so nearly lost his soul. After all those centuries of holding out, he had risked the damnation of his soul for her five years of freedom.

Savannah sat very still, absorbing his memories. The only beauty in his barren, lonely existence had been the years she was growing up, when he was free to share her life as the wolf. She was unafraid of the wolf, giving him total, unconditional love, her every confidence, her unqualified acceptance. He had never had that before. He craved it, needed it, and believed she would never give it to him again.

He accepted the fact that she would never love him, that she would always look at him with fear. It was almost as if he believed he deserved not to be loved because he was certain he had acquired her unfairly. He had not been prepared for the gut-wrenching pain it caused him, or the violent emotions she stirred in him. Savannah stayed very, very still, on the verge of a great discovery.

It wasn’t any woman he wanted, as she had believed. And he certainly didn’t want a puppet, as she had accused him. He wanted Savannah, with her sense of humor, her pride and compassion, and even her nasty temper. No other woman held the slightest interest for him. No other woman would ever do for him.

He was in pain. Terrible pain. He felt her grief over the loss of Peter. He felt her fear of him. He felt the pain of his own loneliness and eternal isolation. It radiated from his very soul. He was resigned to hold that pain for all time. And he would never show it to her.

Savannah moved out of his mind while she was still undetected. He was terribly lonely, so much so that she wanted to cry for him. And he didn’t have the faintest idea how to love someone, laugh with someone, or share his life. He only knew that he had to keep her safe at any cost. She had named him monster, and he believed her to be right.

She stared out the window into the forest. Gregori was many things. He had broken just about every law they had without one iota of remorse. He had killed countless times. He had more power in his little finger than most members of her race combined. But he was not a monster. Never that.

Her foot tapped out a light rhythm on the rock floor. The branches of the trees swayed slightly in syncopation. She did have power, far more than she had ever expected. Gregori wanted her. More than that, he needed her. That particular revelation changed everything. It put control back in her hands, gave her back her life. She squared her shoulders. She was no longer a child running from a nameless fear.

She was his lifemate, chosen by God to walk with a man of power, of honor. A sensual, strong male who needed her more than anyone else on earth ever could.

Savannah took a deep breath and let it out carefully. “Gregori?” She kept her voice low and neutral.

He lifted his head slowly, but she felt his mind brush hers. The invasion didn’t inspire fear this time. She accepted his merge without shying away from it. “This is a very beautiful place. It’s amazing that you were able to do this.” She heard a slight rustle, a movement behind her, but she didn’t turn around. “You’re quite an artist.”

She could smell him, his woodsy, spicy scent. Masculine, warm, exciting. She touched the rock wall and smiled to herself, thinking the feel of the rock was a lot like the way Gregori’s hard body felt beneath her fingertips.

“It took a few months, chérie,the months I spent up here alone, waiting for your show to come to San Francisco.”

His voice was so beautiful. She allowed herself to listen to it, to feel the purity of it, to let the black velvet brush her mind. “It is really beautiful, Gregori. We can summer here when we’re in this country.”

He touched her hair because he couldn’t help himself, and he was surprised when she didn’t flinch away from him. It pleased him to hear her talk as if she accepted that they would be together in the future. He didn’t respond, however, afraid that whatever he said would break their fragile truce.

She reached behind her, found his arm with her palm, and touched him. She felt his pulse jump beneath her fingertips and kept her smile to herself. “So, are you going to explain to me how the vampire was able to use my own mother’s voice to draw me out? I am presuming it was a vampire. And how come I felt a compulsion to answer? I am Carpathian; a compulsion shouldn’t have worked so quickly or easily on me.” She continued to stare out the window.