Dark Whisper – Dark Carpathians Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
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Andros waited until the room was empty of any others except his family, Afanasiv and Rudlof. “Your time in the chains would be over, Rudlof, unlike the others in this conspiracy, if you cooperated. You may have nudged them on their path, but you believed we were unworthy of leadership. That belief is still in your mind. I can tell you—and you should be able to hear lies—that the woman you trusted is not our aunt and has been corrupted by the high mage and consorts with those in the underworld.”

Rudlof erupted into swearing in the Lycan language, spitting his rage at Andros in an insane display. His eyes went from glowing amber to heated red to a mixture of both until he looked like the very devil, his hatred so deep and unbending, his gaze encompassing all of the royals. There was no getting through to him. No reasoning with him. His loathing of the royals was palpable, tangible and so intense that it filled the room and sank into the walls until they breathed with a dark revulsion.

Vasilisa moved closer to Afanasiv. He knew it was an involuntary action on her part. She would have been annoyed at herself had she realized she had done so, but Afanasiv was elated that she had turned to him when the room had grown so hostile. Her sensitive nature felt the hostility and hatred so much more than most would. Afanasiv registered it, but he shut down emotion easily after centuries of no feeling, particularly when it came to treachery and darkness.

How would my aunt be able to get him to believe her to the point he cannot hear her lies, Siv? And Rudlof was always one with a sense of justice. How is it that he cannot even hear us anymore? He shuts down the moment one of us tries to talk to him.

Afanasiv studied the Lycan as Grigor tried next to reach out to the prisoner. The royal appealed to him first as a man and then as a Lycan. He got the same results Andros did—malevolent loathing. This time, the walls rippled and smoldered with animosity. The wolf snarled and snapped with vicious teeth beneath the mask of the man. Was there a shadowing on him? The man or the wolf? A mage shadowing?

Vasilisa, when you look at Rudlof, do you see shading beneath his skin? Or beneath the fur of his wolf?

Her fingers pressed into his arm. He felt each pad of her finger burn her imprint into his muscle and then his bone.

I look at him and only see his deep hatred of us, Siv.

He could tell the escalating feelings Rudlof projected were wearing on her, fraying her nerves. There had to be magic involved. Barnabas was Xaverio’s son. He had been born long before Xavier’s first-born son. The first children of the triplets had been kept secret from the world of Carpathians. Even then, Xavier had been preparing to wipe out the Carpathian species.

Barnabas had no doubt been influencing those in the Sacred Circle for a long time—years, maybe. He would have taken his time. Been slow and patient. What of Rudlof? Had he been influenced to detest the royals solely through Olga? Or was Barnabas a factor? Rudlof had been at the start of the conspiracy against the royals, and that conspiracy had taken time to grow. It hadn’t happened overnight. Or even over weeks. Or months.

Afanasiv continued to watch the Lycan. He was bothered by the silver, constantly moving, which allowed more of the poisonous drops of liquid silver to burn into his pores, but he wasn’t screaming in pain or howling in misery. The ancient stepped in front of his lifemate, putting his body solidly between the Lycan and Vasilisa. Something was off. Very off. He was missing a key piece of the puzzle. When it came to Vasilisa’s safety, he couldn’t afford to miss anything at all.

Once again, he studied the Lycan’s expression. The heavy eyebrows betrayed the wolf in him. The snarl showed the sharp mouthful of teeth. Afanasiv’s attention returned to Rudlof’s eyes. What was different about them? Amber to red. The red ringed the amber at times. Other times, the red ran through the amber and then covered the yellow completely.

“Rudlof, we were friends. We played chess.” Garald made his try. “You came to the palace often in the evenings to talk. You saw that we didn’t live extravagantly.”

Siv didn’t make the mistake of looking away from Rudlof. He wanted to see if the shading he first thought he saw came back when Garald spoke to the Lycan.

“You helped me understand the theory of planning battles after my father was gone. We often clashed over the idea of whether mixed blood could produce the same results in every Lycan, but you were always willing to listen to anything I had to say, even when we disagreed.”



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