You know me now, he said to the child. Please accept this offering of my blood to make you strong. I offer it with my protection and this promise – to cherish you, to love you, to always protect you. Be strong for us, for your mother and me. Once the conversion is complete, you will both, mother and daughter, be wholly in our world. You will always be my daughter, close to my heart. Be strong, little one. Stay very strong and know I am with you. The healer will be with you. Listen to the song our people sing to you. It is for you, all of them helping you to hold on. All of our people waiting to meet you when you come to us whole and healthy.

In response, he felt a faint flutter in his mind, as if the baby had reached out for him, trying to connect back. At the same time, just as he could feel Emeline’s pain, now he could feel the child’s. Healer. The baby.

Gary immediately shed his body and entered Emeline’s to help ease the baby’s transition into their world. Dragomir had lost count of the times Gary had given blood or shed his body to fight for the child against Vadim’s attacks. The man had to be immensely strong to continue, but Dragomir believed in him now. The healer was a Daratrazanoff through and through, willing to pay the ultimate price if necessary to save the child. Dragomir would always be indebted to him.

The chanting around them continued. Half the Carpathians sang the lullaby and the other the healing song, all in the language of the ancients. The Carpathian hunters had regrouped and were now surrounding Emeline and Dragomir, shouldering the pain as much as each of them could to help ease the mother and child into their world.

Dragomir monitored them closely. He knew the moment he had to stop Emeline from taking more blood. He would never forget that soul-destroying second in time when she transitioned from feeling him, his love, his caring, building that addiction to his taste, the pleasure great enough to drown out the alarming and painful changes in her body, to pure pain. Nothing but pain.

Emeline tried to pull out of his mind to spare him. In agony from the twisting, dying organs, she still attempted to put him first – to spare him the pain of what she was going through. She hadn’t told anyone about the agony of Vadim’s parasites eating at her day and night, and he realized her reasons hadn’t just been to protect herself from the possibility of being thrown out of Tariq’s compound, it was about keeping the others from being harmed by the master vampire. She didn’t dare have any of them attempt to cleanse her, give her blood and especially not take hers. He refused to give up his connection with her.

Please. You’ve done enough for me.

This is for all of us. You. Me. The baby. We’re in this together, Emeline. All three of us. What you feel, so must I. What our child feels, so must I.

Her breath caught in her lungs and then came out in a sob. Her body twisted in his arms and he laid her down in the soil, shielding the sight of her from the Carpathians, not because he was modest, but because he knew she was. He stripped her clothes from her with a single thought. Her body temperature was rising and the barrier of her clothes to the cool air was a terrible burden.

That only serves to make me love you more, Dragomir. She whispered the declaration into his mind. She gave him the reassurance of their intimate connection when she should have been conserving her energy for the next swelling wave of agony. Thank you for accepting my daughter. I want us to give her a name now.

The wave hit and her body convulsed. He felt the healer easing the baby through it and wished he were the one. The moment he had the thought, both mother and daughter reached for him, connecting mentally, as if he was the one easing their way. He breathed with them. Sent them strength. Held them close, sheltering them as best he could. He was grateful for the Carpathian people surrounding them, just as determined as he was that the baby wouldn’t die.

He stroked caresses over Emeline’s forehead, his fingers twining in the thick mass of midnight black hair. He loved every strand. She was beautiful to him, more beautiful than he’d ever conceived. He realized she’d made an effort, showering and washing her hair when she’d been too weak, almost, to stand. She’d done that for him even knowing what was in store for her. Blaze had told her just how difficult the conversion was on human women. She had known what she was facing.

The wave subsided and Emeline opened her eyes, her long lashes framing all that true violet. No one really had violet eyes, but she did. His woman. He brushed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

Blaze told me to relax and embrace the change. That breathing and relaxing would make it easier. I mostly worry for you and the baby. Do you have any names you think are beautiful? I couldn’t make myself name her when I thought he would win.

Staring into those violet eyes, he could only think of one name. “Carisma means gift. You have given me the greatest gift a woman can give her man. We can call her Carisma when she is being our sweet girl. No doubt she’ll have your fire.”

I don’t have fire. I just go my own way.

We go together, sweet Emeline. He didn’t tell her that when she kissed him, he felt her fire. It was deep and passionate. She definitely ignited for him, and more, she made him ignite.

He could feel the swelling pain building before it was there in her eyes and in the lines of strain around her face. This time she pulled her knees to her chest and turned away from him, vomiting repeatedly to expel the human toxins. He swept the toxins away as fast as possible, keeping the air around her clean and fresh.

When the long wave subsided, she didn’t turn back to him. He felt her humiliation. He didn’t understand it. Expelling toxins was part of the process, but the fact was she was uncomfortable, and he needed to ease that for her.

“No one can see you but me,” he assured her. “The healer has all he can do with keeping our daughter safe. For us, this is part of bringing you into our world, and we celebrate each step toward your entry.”

She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip as she turned her head to look at him. Thank you. This is difficult, but I am happy I’m moving us closer to you. She took a breath and tried a tentative smile. Carisma. I like the sound of that. Calling her a gift sounds beautiful. I think of her as a gift, something innocent and beautiful created in a moment of evil. I want the world for her, Dragomir. I want a home and happiness. Love filling it. I want her to have one of those stone dragons Tomas, Lojos and Mataias made for the other children. I would love for us all to soar through the sky together and point out stars. Her childhood and life are going to be so different than mine ever were.

“She will be well loved, sívamet,” he assured, and once more reached out to the child. Lańa – daughter – are you holding strong for your mother and me? The healer is cradling you in his arms, easing your way into our world. I hold both of you, mother and child. Do you feel me with you? Do you feel her? We surround you with such love. Hold strong for us.

Again, he felt that small flutter in his mind and knew it was his daughter. He tasted the word – lańa. Daughter. He had never had much of a family and the memory of the one he’d been born into was dim. Now he had a lifemate and daughter. We wish to call you Carisma. Your mother and I consider you a gift, a precious treasure we are honored to love. Carisma means gift. Does this name suit you?

That little flutter came again. An awareness. The child was reaching out as best she could and he took that as a yes. He had the impression of fear, pain, courage – a little fighter, then. She was stealing his heart, that little presence struggling for her life. He would always be indebted to the healer. Always. For eternity. He knew Gary’s lifemate couldn’t possibly be old enough yet for him to find as he’d only been recently born again as a Carpathian, but if he could aid the healer in holding on over the next few years, he would do so.

The waves were starting again, and this time the pain was even stronger. The chanting and song also swelled in volume, and more Carpathians joined the ancients in shouldering the agony of conversion. He felt the women in the mix, working to aid Emeline and the baby, to keep them safe and as far from the pain as possible. No one could stop the convulsions, or the body’s purge, but the combined strength and power of the Carpathian people distanced both mother and child from the agony, allowing them to get through that violent wave.




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