Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or Dark Curse: a Carpathian novel.
Dark Curse
Chapter Two:
The night was bitter cold. He shouldn't be feeling it—Shinobi could easily regulate their body temperature—but he wanted feel the cold. It was a feeling, not an emotion, but it was something. The cold was sort of like bitterness, and bitterness was an emotion. That was likely the closet he would get to any sort of emotion before his death.
Sabaku no Gaara walked the length of the village with long, slow strides. He kept his face turned away from the passing people to prevent them from seeing his eyes. The normal jade color, he knew, had faded only to be replaced by a glowing golden hue. An icy feeling swirled in the pit of his stomach, and deep inside, where his soul should have been, only a small withered shadow remained—and that too was filled with holes. The centuries of hunting and killing his former comrades had long since taken their toll.
Gaara lifted his face to the swirling clouds as the wind blew, chilling him to the bone. This was his last night, he was done fighting. He had held fast through the centuries, hunted more of his fallen comrades than most, and tomorrow he would walk out into the sun, ending his long and barren existence.
He was to far from home for his family to stop him, in fact, they wouldn't sense his end until it was too late. He wondered how long it would take for the sun to burn him clean. A long time—he knew—with all the stains on his soul, but a least his brothers and sister wouldn't have to share the intense suffering of his last few moments.
He shivered as the wind blew harder, grateful that he could still feel physical sensations. Emotions, well he had lost those so long ago that they were a distant memory, maybe not even his memory. His sister and two brothers had found lifemates and had shared their new found emotions with him. In many ways their happiness made it so much harder to bare being so alone.
So, Gaara had decided to take one last walk through the village before his meeting with Naruto Uzumaki—Hokaga of the Shinobi people. He had traveled a great distance to deliver a warning message, however, he was no longer certain it was safe to meet face-to-face—especially in the close confines of the inn. Already he could hear the loud heartbeats, filling him with the need for rich, hot blood—sharp teeth pushed against the inside of his mouth as saliva gathered in anticipation of the feast.
It wouldn't take much to allow himself to taste—just for a moment, one last time—the hot rush of adrenaline-laced blood that would give him a glimpse of lost emotion. And a woman…He would love to feel a woman's soft skin, to inhale her scent, and pretend for a moment that he had someone who belonged to him. Someone who would look at him with love—genuine love—not that greedy glint that came the moment a woman knew of his material wealth.
If he could feel regret, it wouldn't be for the countless times he had destroyed an old friend, but for never truly needing a woman. He had never held a woman he loved in his arms and made her feel treasured, loved, worshipped. That would be his only true regret, never being loved or loving any one in return. The whispers in his mind grew stronger, tempting him with the things he had never known.
Women had always been attracted to his looks, his power, and his money. He had used them for sustenance, but he had never known what it was like to feel the pleasures a woman could bring his body, the peace she could offer his mind. One taste, just one. He could sink his teeth into soft skin and feel the flow of life, hear the quickening of her heart beating in tune with his. Life or death, he had that power.
Gaara's heart slammed hard in his chest. His body began to stir to life. He scented his prey. The fragrance beckoned to him, calling out from the beauty of the night. He had only to take that one last taste and he could experience everything—one last time—before the sun rose and burned him clean. He turned his head and there she was, standing in the shadows.
Her skin was pale and flawless, her hair pulled back in a long thick pony tail. Her eyes were wide, large and sparkling, almost glowing. She seemed to be waiting for someone. A man, perhaps? A low growl rumbled deep in his chest as he felt his body react to the thought of her with anyone else. As detached as he was from his actions, he found it all very interesting. He had never felt threatened by man, beast, or monster, yet looking at this young woman, he knew he would fight to the death for a chance to taste her blood, to feel the softness of her skin, to hear her heart match the rhythm of his.
For the first time in his life, he actually had erotic images of his own, and not drawn from someone else's mind. They rose up to taunt him, this woman writhing and moaning, pleading with him to give her everything. He wouldn't feel anything when he took her offering, but maybe, just maybe if he took her life at the same time, he would have that one moment…
Her head snapped around and her gaze locked on him. There wasn't that instant look in her eyes that he had come to expect—a woman spotting an attractive male. Instead, she looked like a predator, her gaze burning, mouth firm. Her body was all woman, dressed in layers of clothing, a high-necked dark green sweater with sleeves that covered her wrists. A pair of dark leggings that ran into knee high boots covered her shapely legs. A dark brown mini skirt clung to her small waist with a small black belt to hold it in place. And a long, warm, red cloak hung from her shoulders to just below her knees, completing her ensemble.
There was something familiar about her, as if they may have met before. And try as he might he simply could not look away from her. With women he always had the upper hand, drawing them to him with his looks and dangerous air, but he got the feeling this woman wasn't consumed with desire for him at all.
Again he had a visceral reaction deep in his gut, a need for her to want him. Come to me now. Offer yourself to me. There was shame in using the gift of his voice to enthrall and entrap her; it would have made the fantasy so much better to have her come to him on her own. Afterward he might even be able to convince himself that she had wanted him, but not like this, with compulsion.
Her body jerked, as her chin came up and her bright eyes smoldered. It was as if she knew. She began to walk toward him, as he moved deeper into the shadows, his heart pounding with need. He could already taste her, feel her soft skin sliding against his. His blood surged hotly at the thought.
She was of average height, so he was a least a head or so taller—but she had womanly curves and looked strong. She also moved with fluid grace, not the stumbling, halting movement of someone fighting a compulsion. For a moment the clouds parted and light spilled across her face, his gut knotted.
Stop! Go back. Get inside. He had to save her. His hands shook—actually shook—and damn him forever to hell, his body stirred, hot and hard and aching for her. Her life—her very soul as well as his—was in danger. But even as he warned her, he took a step towards her, wanting her, needing her. If he touched her, if he got too close, they would both be lost.
A frown flitted across her face. She pressed her palm to her body, and halted, looking confused.
Sakura stared hard at the tall man coming toward her. He was the most classically beautiful man she'd ever seen. His face was pure masculine beauty; his eyes were an enchanting jade green, yet when he turned a certain way they glowed like topaz, causing a chill to race down her spine. He moved with unbelievable grace, his body almost flowing, as ropes of muscles rippled subtly like a giant jungle cat on the prowl.
She didn't have reactions to men, no matter how hot they were, her body remained as cold and frigid as the ice chambers where she'd spent her childhood. Yet, looking at this man, everything changed, her breath quickened, her pulse raced, her stomach somersaulted, and even her womb reacted, clenching hotly. But so did her birthmark, and her birthmark heralded the arrival of one thing—vampire.
The problem was the mark seemed to have a short in it. One minute it burned with scorching heat and the next it went cold and lifeless. She had the blade of her knife up against her wrist, concealed by her long sleeve, the handle securely in her fist. She wasn't taking any chances, no matter how hot he was.
And then there was his voice, velvet soft, pure seduction. A night melody of dark promises, one minute beckoning, and the next repelling. The first time he'd spoken his command she had been certain he was a vampire, drawing her to him to feed from her. The next moment, however, he seemed to be trying to warn her off, yet he continued forward, his jade eyes drifting over her face as if he owned her.
Gaara couldn't stop walking toward her—as if he was the one under compulsion. He was going to have to call to Naruto for help to save her. But he was so far gone, it was possible he would engage the Hokaga in a battle over her. And Naruto couldn't be risked, not if their species was to survive.
Go! He warned her once again, his voice low and firm, however he failed to bury the compulsion in his tone. As much as a part of him wanted to save her, the other part, the part standing off to the side, detached and greedy for that one moment of true life—of feeling before he ended his existence—couldn't quite be noble enough to let her escape.
She turned her head, her gaze searching the shadows and rooftops for danger. He was almost on her when she turned back to him. Up close she was so beautiful, breathtaking really. Her skin looked exquisite, and her scent was faint and alluring, drawing him in. He felt as if he were in a trance, if that were even possible for one such as him.
His fingers circled her wrist like a bracelet, light yet as unbreakable as steel. She moved then, whirling around, into him, her elbow connecting with his sternum. Gaara barely felt the blow, though if he were human he was certain he would have. Suddenly he locked his arms around her and buried his face in the thick mass of her hair. It was soft, heaven.
The blood in her veins ebbed and flowed like the tide, pounding through her, letting him know that they were alive. Not existing, but living.
The whispers in his head turned into a possessive roar, this one was his and his alone. He didn't hesitate, lowering his face to her shoulder, and nuzzling the sweater aside to expose the soft flesh of her neck and the pounding pulse there. He made no effort to calm her, or put her under a compulsion. The adrenaline in her blood would heighten the experience, as he sank his teeth deep into her flesh and took the essence of her being deep within him.
"Let go of me, you bastard." Sakura snapped, shocked at the sudden pain, and that after all those years of swearing to herself that no one would ever—ever—take her blood by force again, she was locked in the arms of a vampire.
Rage swept through her, shook her, and took her by surprise. She had never been so angry in all her life. And yet, after the initial bite, the dark, erotic sensation made some part of her want to succumb to that fire and heat—to give her life to him.
Clenching her teeth, she fought the sensation of need and desire pulsing through her body. She wouldn't give in or go that easily. She had no idea a vampire could be so cunning. One minute triggering an alarm, the next warning her off and then the bite.
She gripped the knife in her fist and tried to get a little room in order to move her hand toward his ribs. But she was facing away from him and it was difficult to feel where he was when lightning sizzled and crackled in her veins, robbing her of her ability to think.
Gaara was so far gone in the ecstasy of her taste and shape that it took a moment to register that she had spoken. Let go of me, you bastard. The words echoed in his mind, burst through his subconscious and took hold of his heart.
Emotion flooded him with dizzying speed. Fast, sharp and jumbled so that it was impossible to sort anything out. The love he felt for his brothers and sister speared into his heart and mind. Anger and rage that he had been following an honorable path yet had been so close to turning. Shame for the sins he had yet to confess to the Hokaga—sins wrongfully committed against the leader of their people. Not in action, but in the hearts and minds of Gaara and his siblings. Joy, for the woman in his arms who had saved him from a fate that would have dishonored not only him, but his family as well.
So much to try to sort out all at once and all the while his body was hard and hurting, his groin so full and thick the material of his clothes caused physical pain. He wanted her, needed her. He had to have her; the taste of her was unlike anything he had ever experienced. This woman was his lifemate. The woman he had searched for across several continents, the woman he had spent centuries looking for, the only woman who could restore his emotions.
He opened his eyes and her hair swirled into his vision. There in the darkness it shown a petal pink, but as he watched, his eyes played tricks on him, so that waves of silver glowed in metallic streaks. He couldn't find the strength or will to pull away from her, to stop the sweet fire sliding down his throat, tying them together in the way of his people. Somewhere, far off, he could hear his own mind screaming at him that he was losing his mind, that he had found her too late and that he was killing her. But even so he couldn't stop.
Pain ripped through his left side, startling him out of his trancelike state. He jerked his head up without swiping his tongue across the twin pinpricks at her pulse to close the wound. Blood trickled down her neck into the leafy tones of her sweater. He could see the garment, a dazzling color with hues of green and gold, with red drops scattering and pooling in the thread.
Color, after centuries with nothing but shades of grey, he saw beautiful, amazing color.
Gaara looked down at his side to where the pain came from, only to see the handle of a knife sticking out of his ribs. Sakura stepped back away from Gaara and spun to face him. Her eyes were twin jewels, burning bright, a deep emerald, not just green, but actual emerald. Even as he watched, the color swirled and changed, going from deep green to arctic blue, the color of the ice glaciers, clean, pure and ice-cold, but burning with intensity and fire.
Gaara smiled at her. "I claim you as my lifemate"
His voice was low, a dark seduction that slid over her senses, like velvet playing over her skin, arousing her. Sakura had heard those words before, long ago when the aunts sang her to sleep. They sang of a great love story. A man—as dark as sin, a woman—as bright as light, and how only that woman could save him from an honorable death, or the most horrible fate of becoming a vampire. She had the power to restore his lost emotions, to restore bright and beautiful color to his world. The love story had been the one beautiful thing in her life and she had clung to it, needing something to hang onto.
I claim you as my lifemate. The words were so beautiful, so connecting she could feel them echo in her heart and mind. They had been the words in her story and she had dreamt of them, thought them romantic. But the man in the story hadn't been so seductively beautiful and so utterly dangerous, and he certainly hadn't taken his lady's blood without permission. It was wrong, a violation that she would not permit.
"I belong to you. I offer you my life." As he spoke in that perfectly calm, soft voice, he gripped the handle of the knife and yanked it from his body. Blood gushed down side, as he held the weapon out to her, handle first.
Sakura swallowed hard, raising her gaze from the wound to his face. There was no anger. No expression at all, just a strange serenity that shook her to the core. She moistened her suddenly dry lips and reached out to take the knife. Her fingertips gently brushed his sending electricity sizzling up her arm. He merely opened his arms wide, presenting his heart as a target.
His teeth flashed white in the darkness. "I give you my protection. I give you my allegiance. I give you my heart. I give you my soul. I give you my body."
She realized he wasn't talking figuratively, but literally. He was offering to stand there while she drove a knife into his heart and took his life. This was no vampire. She had no real idea of what he was, but the words he was uttering were in the Shinobi language, a language as ancient as her aunts had been. And the words were a ritual that bound two halves of the same soul together. She had never believed in that love story, not truly, even though she knew the kinds of things that could be wrought with elements and chakra. But as he spoke each word in that soft, seductive tone, his jade eyes glittering with possession and absolute determination, she could feel the ties between them forging like steel.
"Are you crazy insane? Don't stand there like an idiot. You need to stop the bleeding."
His eyes never left her face. "I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Your life will be cherished by me for all time."
She flung her head up, her bound hair whipping across her shoulder, glacier blue eyes crackling and glittering with anger. "Really, is this what you call cherishing me?" She pressed a hand to her neck where the blood continued to trickle. "You took from me without permission. Without one thought to how I might feel."
All the while she reprimanded him, her gaze kept dropping to the blood pooling at his side. He had to stop it. If he was Shinobi—and she was sure he was—he could close the wound on his own and keep his life's essence from flowing away.
"Your life will be placed above my own for all time." His expression didn't change. He kept his arms outstretched, presenting her with the fatal target. His jade gaze never left her face. His expression was that of absolute serenity, although his eyes blazed with a dark possession.
Fury shook her. "You won't have a life if you don't heal yourself."
"You are my lifemate. You are bound to me for all eternity. You are always in my care."
She hissed out her breath, teeth snapping together. "You don't just get to claim me and think it's all going to work out. Not when you've taken my blood without my consent." Her heart was pounding as she watched his life ebbing away. "Do something."
"It is not my choice. Life or death is the choice of my lifemate. If you reject my claim, then you are condemning me and I willingly die by your hand."
Her blue eyes were twin chips of burning ice. "Oh no, don't you dare blame your death on me." But she was already springing towards him, unable to stop herself. Her throat nearly closed with fear as she clamped both hands over the wound on his side. She wanted to shake him, literally just grab him and shake him until he saw how utterly ridiculous he was being.
So much for her romantic love story. "You might be the hottest man in the village, but you brain is about the size of a pea." she muttered under her breath. "Close the wound. I don't have that kind of power."
"Then it is life you choose for me?" His voice was enough to make a woman want to strip and jump him, and the effect he had on her annoyed her more than anything else ever had.
"You deserve to die just for being so stupid." She snapped, but she didn't let go of his side, instead she pressed tighter, making sure to clamp down and prevent further bleeding. "Now heal yourself, damn it."
He gave a slight, old-world bow. "As you wish."
That voice was a pure, dark seduction that caused her body to tingled, and her breasts to ache. But she most certainly didn't want him touching her, or running his intense jade gaze possessively over her body.
She could hear his heart matching the rhythm of hers. The air flowing in and out of his lungs in tune with hers, a soft sigh that mingled their breath together. Everything feminine in her, everything she was, Shinobi, mage and human, rose up to meet the male in him.
"I wish for you to get yourself some psychological help. You can't seem to decide whether you're a vampire or a hunter." She replied, deliberately injecting scorn into her voice.
Still his expression didn't change. He didn't even blink, but she'd scored a hit. They were connected now, all those unbreakable threads she'd felt between them allowed her to read his emotions and gave her an insight to the predator she was prodding.
He didn't move, yet somehow he was closer, much closer, his body pressing against the small palms of her hands where her were buried into his side. "Have no fears, my mate, I have decided."
She didn't like the sound of that—the soft purring in his voice that sounded more like a threat than a reassurance. She felt the heat suddenly bursting from his body; saw the flash of white light glowing around her hands. His flesh grew hot, although it didn't burn her, merely cleaned the blood from her skin. She dropped her hands abruptly and stepped away from him, looking up at his incredible face.
His body up close was too masculine, too strong, too everything. Wide shouldered, solid—he looked invincible—even though she'd managed to get a knife into him. She swallowed her fear and took another step back.
"I have to go." She said quickly
"We go together. You cannot pretend I have not claimed you and that you did not reject me. You chose life for me. Our souls are one."
Sakura frowned. She had a vague idea of the ritual binding words from the story her aunts had told her. The words were imprinted on the male before birth. Once uttered, they bound two souls together so one could not survive without the other once the ritual was complete. She didn't know what the rest of the ritual was, but if it involved sex with this man, then she really wasn't up to the task.
She tilted her head and looked at him with a cool steady gaze. She didn't feel cool or steady, but she wanted him to understand her—to know that if she'd ever been serious about anything in her life, this was it. "I know very little about you traditions or culture. Just stories my aunts told me when I was a child, but no matter what you've done to tie us together, know this: I don't know you. I don't love you. I don't care anything at all about you. I spent the first years of my life a prisoner and I will never—never—allow anyone to imprison me again. If you try to take anything from me by force, if you try to break my will or manipulate my mind, I will fight you till the last breath leaves my body. So you make up your mind—choose life or death for us."
His eyes darkened, glittering with a sensual lust that burned through her body. He cupped her chin with gentle fingers and bent his head slowly. Mesmerized, she couldn't pull herself away. She could see the kanji Ai tattooed above his left eye partially hidden by his crimson locks, the long length of his lashes, the straight nose of an aristocrat, and the mouth sinfully carnal, but stamped with the mark of a man who could be cruel.
Her breath caught as his crimson locks brushed her face. She felt his mouth on her neck. Hot, burning, his velvet soft tongue rasped over the twin pinpricks at her frantically beating pulse, stopping the tempting trickle of her blood.
I choose life for us.
The words slid into her mind like a caress. She moistened her lips as he straightened to his full height. "Fine then, we understand each other." She turned to go back to the inn—to safety, because no matter what this man agreed to, she knew she wasn't safe with him and it wasn't entirely his fault.
Once more his fingers settled around her wrist like a bracelet, warm and unbreakable. He stroked the pads of his fingers against the bare skin of her inner wrist, halting her. "I do not think you quite understand me and I would not want you to later say you were ignorant of all the facts."
Sakura turned back reluctantly. "I'm listening."
"You are the one woman—the only woman—my woman. This is something I take very seriously. Your health, your safety and your happiness. I will see to these things, but I will not share you. I will not allow others to interfere in our relationship. No one, be them man or woman. If you have a problem with something, you tell me. If you are afraid of something, you tell me."
"I don't know you. And I don't trust that easily."
"I did not say it would be easy. I just want you to understand who I am."
She couldn't push down the rising panic. She saw him for exactly what he was. A predator. A hunter. A man who made decisions and expected those around to follow his lead. Already the ritual words had bound them together, and she could feel the pull of him on her mind—even on her body.
Sakura let her breath out slowly. "I don't share my blood."
His lips curved into a smile. She caught a brief glimpse of his white teeth and then that predatory smile was gone and he once again wore a face carved from stone. "I noticed."
Color rose in her cheeks. "I have to get back inside. I have a friend who is hurt. Maybe you can help him. You obviously know about healing."
All warmth leeched from his eyes. "You friend is male?"
She shivered, suddenly cold. "Yes. I came with two colleagues. We're doing research nearby and we are staying here."
"What kind of research?" There was a bite to his tone, a note of suggestion.
Now her entire body was blushing, and the nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach annoyed her to no end. She was trying to establish herself as someone to be taken seriously, yet each time she looked at him something inside her seemed to melt.
He scared the hell out of her. She had faced monsters, and she hadn't been as afraid as she was at the moment. This man had permanently changed her, and he just stood there calm and resolute looking at her with possessive eyes and a mouth that was so fascinating, she could barely tear her gaze away. But he didn't fool her; she knew he was one of the most dangerous creatures living on the earth.
"Well, it's hard to explain. Mostly we do sexual research. You know, sex in every culture passed down through time." She answered, in a nonchalant voice.
"Very funny." He growled
"You deserved it. You had that tone."
"I had a tone?" he asked, with a raised brow.
She swept her green gaze over him and began walking back toward the inn, very aware of him pacing beside her with the silent stride of a jungle cat. "Actually, I explore caves and lately I've been researching life forms that live within ice caves." There was an edge of haughtiness in her voice. "So answer my question: Do you know much about healing? Or do you know someone who does? We were attacked by a hybrid—part plant, part snake—and very venomous."
He caught her elbow and brought her to a halt. "Did it bite you?" He was already running his hands up and down her arms, tilting her head this way and that. And then she felt the thrust of his mind against hers.
It was such a shock, the sheer intimacy of his mind merging with hers. There was nothing at all soft about him. He could erupt into violence with swift efficiency. When she had thought him one of the most dangerous creatures on earth, she hadn't even come close to understanding the killing machine that he was, yet he hid nothing from her. He didn't attempt to pretend to be anything different than he was, and she saw that he could. He could have appeared gentle and sweet, but he gave her the respect of showing her exactly who and what she was dealing with.
Sakura inhaled sharply. Her aunts had told her Shinobi were powerful. They had presented them as heroic, hunters of the vampires, protectors of human and mage alike. Still she was unprepared for the ruthless, merciless mind of the hunter. And he was beyond the most arrogant man she'd ever known.
She couldn't prevent the tremor of awareness or the little shiver of fear. The heat of his body enveloping her, warming her, driving out the cold of the night when she had forgotten to regulate her temperature. She attempted to retreat, slamming down the barriers in her mind. She had always been powerful, but it had been years since she'd had to utilize her abilities to conceal her mind from any other and she was slow and rusty.
"There is no need to hide yourself form me." Gaara said. Not only was her body shivering, but her mind as well. He had triggered a well of fear, tapped into some long-ago memories of someone close to her who had misused and abused her trust. "I cannot lie to you, nor do I attempt to access what you will not give me freely. I look only for parasites and wounds. The snakes are more deadly than you can know."
She let her breath out, somewhat relieved. He hadn't examined her memories of that lost little girl. He didn't know who she was or what she was. There was always power in knowledge and she trusted no one—least of all a man who could make her body come alive when she had been frozen for so many years. She didn't trust anything that happened fast, or that walked in an ancient land of enormous power.
"The snakes injected venom into my friend. There were tiny parasitic organisms in the venom and the blood of the snakes burned like acid." As she spoke, she moved away from him, a delicate feminine retreat.
Gaara wanted to smile, and he didn't smile easily. Hadn't smiled in five hundred years, but her girly reaction when she was trying to be a fierce warrior was so cute. Cute. He had never understood that word before. He'd heard it a thousand times but had no real concept of the meaning until that moment. Instincts told him she wouldn't appreciate being considered cute when she thought of herself as fierce, so he kept his observation to himself.
She was shorter than most Shinobi women, barely coming up to his shoulders, but her body was all feminine curves. She considered herself overweight—he'd caught that small bit of information before he narrowed the flow of information to specifics. He didn't understand that either. She was perfect, but then he would have thought her perfect no matter what she had looked like. How could he not? She had restored his life, his very soul. He could feel real love for his siblings. He could feel real honor and a sense of duty to his people. She had turned a bleak, gray world into a dazzling wonderland. She was the epitome of beauty to him with her classic bone structure and the jeweled eyes of the Dragonseeker line.
Power crackled in her. This was no shy, retiring maiden, but a warrior prepared to fight him at every turn. She didn't know he had already won the battle. She was part Shinobi and her nature would draw her to him. The pull between them would grow over time and he would make absolutely certain that he was by her side while time worked its magic on her.
"Stop staring at me like that." She snapped, walking faster.
He kept pace easily. "I had no idea I was staring in any particular way." He said innocently.
There was joy in the night as well as breathtaking beauty. He marveled that he could feel it, see it, and be one with it. The heavy clouds formed whimsical shapes, drifting overhead with the helpful push of the wind. The village breathed, hearts beating, children's laughter ringing out. Why hadn't he heard those sounds before? Sounds of life and love. Fathers murmuring, mothers calling, children playing. He had lost the magic of life over the centuries and now it was there flooding his senses.
Her yes flashed at him. Green again. Green was her normal color, a dazzling emerald her pink hair made deeper. Glacier blue was her power color then. There was satisfaction I discovering that small fact about her. He wanted to know everything about her all at once, but he had learned long ago the lesson of patience and it had served him well for hundreds of years. Time would reveal her secrets to him and each moment spent with her—finding out the little things, the intimacies of her true self—would bring him joy.
He even enjoyed the unrelenting ache she brought to his body. It was another sign of being alive—of living and breathing and sharing his world with her. His soul had been so dark, so damaged, and though his inability to feel emotion had kept the pain, guilt and shame at bay, it also kept away true life.
"You are a miracle to me. Maybe that is what you are seeing in my stare. Sheer wonder." He kept his expression calm, not allowing his joy to overwhelm her, but he did inject the dark seduction of black velvet into his voice so that it caressed her skin and slid deeper into her body, lighting little electrical sparks from breast to feminine channel.
She stopped so abruptly in the open doorway of the inn that he nearly ran into her.
A/N: I sincerely hope your enjoying the story so far. I know I haven't been meticulous with my updates, but that is only because this story is complicated. At times it can be hard to follow so if at any point you have trouble understanding something just send me a message and I'll try my best to explain. I also hope to have the Shinobi family tree link put up on my profile soon so that might help somewhat. Till next time, Sayonara
