Teeth grazed her skin, right over her leaping pulse. Then his tongue stroked, easing the sharp sensation. “I do not wish you to think any more, ma petite.Do as I say, or I will send you to sleep myself.”

She paled. “No!” Like any Carpathian, Savannah knew just how vulnerable she would be when the sun rose and sleep took her body. If Gregori commanded her into the deepest sleep of the Carpathians, she would be completely under his power. “I’ll sleep.” Deliberately she slowed her breathing, slowed her heart.

Beside her, Gregori concentrated on the entrances to his lair, sealing them with ancient spells. Next he focused on the gates to the wolves’ kennels. They swung open, releasing the wolf hybrids to roam and guard the upper stories and grounds of the house. Savannah still thought to escape him. But Savannah had no idea just how powerful he really was. And because he had promised himself he would always give her truth, he could not say the pretty, empty words that might ease her fears. The acquisition of knowledge had helped to keep his mind and body strong in the endless years of empty blackness. He had waited for Savannah, his lifemate, since before her birth. The moment he had touched Mikhail Dubrinsky’s woman, Raven, healing the terrible wounds she had suffered at the hands of some misguided vampire slayers, giving his pure, powerful blood to help save her life, he had known she would provide him with his lifemate. That the child growing within her would be his. And he had done everything he could to ensure that outcome.

When the human hunters had tried to kill Raven Dubrinsky, Gregori had saved her and the child within her, sealing the bond between him and the newly conceived female being with his own powerful blood. He had ensured she could not escape him, whispering to her, soothing her, enticing her to stay in his world despite the wounds to her fragile little body. Having gone to such extremes to bind his lifemate to him before she was even born, he would never let her go now.

He pulled Savannah’s body as close to him as possible, fitting his larger frame around hers protectively. Roberto traveled with a pack of renegade Carpathians, vampires now, killing, raping, creating mindless human puppets to serve them. If they had all tracked Savannah here to San Francisco, the city would soon become their killing ground. Gregori had to take Savannah to safety, but he knew he would not be leaving the humans of the city to face the threat alone. Aidan Savage, a powerful Carpathian, was in this region, and he would hunt down the renegades and destroy them. Aidan was an able hunter, one feared by the undead.

Gregori stroked Savannah’s hair gently. For her sake, he wished he could give her the freedom she so desired, but it was impossible. Instead, she would be chained to his side for eternity. He sighed, then slowed his heart and lungs in preparation for sleep. As an ancient, he had often had to bring Carpathian justice to the renegades, just as he would have expected Mikhail to bring it to him if he had waited too long to claim Savannah and save himself from his own darkness. But he seriously doubted if anyone, even Mikhail, the Prince of their people, could overpower him if he turned vampire. He could not afford the risk. Savannah must remain his. He drew a last breath, taking her scent into his body and holding it there as his heart ceased to beat.

The sun rose above the mountains, rays of light bursting through the windows of the huge, isolated home. Polished oak gleamed. Marble tile glistened. The only sound that could be heard was an occasional soft padding of the wolves as they patrolled the first, second, and basement stories. Outside, too, more wolves moved restlessly throughout the grounds, along the high, heavy fence enclosing them on the property. The fence was more for the protection of any wandering humans than to keep the animals from marauding in the countryside. Their bond with Gregori was strong, the estate and preserve huge. The wolves would never leave of their own accord.

The sun did battle with a thick layer of clouds, valiantly spreading its golden rays throughout the afternoon. The wind began to pick up, swirling leaves in little eddies on the ground. Beneath the earth, the large chamber was silent. Then in that silence a heart began to beat. A rush of air filled lungs. Savannah scanned her surroundings, testing the nature of Gregori’s imprisoning protection. Beside her, Gregori lay as still as death, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist.

Savannah allowed relief to flood her body. She had one secret no one other than her wolf knew. Most Carpathian children did not survive their first year. During the critical period when their bodies demanded more than milk but rejected all food and blood, her mother, who had once been fully human and unable to feed on her own kind, had given her diluted animal blood. Although Savannah was small and fragile compared to most Carpathians, she had thrived on her mother’s mixture. And, determined to live as normal a life as possible, Savannah had stuck to her unusual diet during her growing years, hoping it might render her different from other Carpathians and able to forge her own future.

At the age of sixteen, Savannah had begun to experiment with the possibility of going out in the sun. Her mother had told her so many stories of life in the sun, across the ocean, stories of freedom and travel. Savannah, in turn, faithfully related each one to her companion, the wolf.

Daringly, she began to wake herself earlier and earlier, slowly exposing her skin to the sun, hoping to build up an immunity Carpathians did not have, forcing them to go to ground in the daylight and come alive only in the night. Sometimes the pain was too much for her to bear, and she would stop her outings for a few days. But Savannah was tenacious when she made up her mind to something, and she wanted to walk in the sun.

Although she was never able to tolerate the sunlight beyond eleven in the morning or before five in the evening in the summer months, her skin had adjusted to the sun’s rays. She did have to wear the darkest of sunglasses during the day and in the bright lights on the stage, but otherwise she seemed to escape the terrible Carpathian lethargy the diet of human blood caused. She had sacrificed some of the speed and strength of her race, but she had the freedom of walking in the light, as her mother had described.

Savannah closed her eyes, remembering a time she had sneaked out while her parents slept deep in their underground chamber. The sun was still up, and, feeling particularly pleased with herself, Savannah made her way through the deep forest up to the cliffs.

She began to climb, trying to improve her speed and strength. But she had faltered near the top, slipped, and lost her footing. She’d grasped the rock face, scrambling for a hold, digging deep grooves in the cliff with her nails curved into claws, but she couldn’t hold on. She fell but twisted in midair with all the agility of a cat, hoping to land on her feet.

But she had failed to see a broken tree root protruding from the cliff face and pointing up like a sharpened stake. It drove through her thigh, tearing through flesh, muscle, and bone, pinning her in place. Her dark glasses fell from her nose to drop to the forest floor below. Savannah screamed in pain, blood pouring from her wound. For a moment she hung there; then the root gave under her weight, and she landed hard on the rocky ground.

At first she couldn’t breathe, the air knocked from her lungs. Keeping her eyes tightly closed against the terrible light, clenching her teeth, she pressed both hands to her wound and sent out an anguished, desperate call to her wolf. Later, she wondered why she had not hesitated to call him, had not thought to call her parents. He answered immediately, waves of reassurance flooding her mind. The wolf was far away but was coming quickly to her aid.