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Embrace the seductive call of the latest novel in Christine Feehan’s #1 New York Times bestselling Carpathian series.
Vasilisa Sidkorolyavolkva is a Lycan of royal blood. She knows what’s expected of her, but all she wants is to be out from under her family’s watchful eyes. There is a fire inside her that is building. A restlessness coupled with a sense of growing dread. Every day she feels the weight of the legacy passed down through generations. The prophecy that says a man will come to claim her as his mate and that she will guard his soul. She knows nothing about him, except that he is hers. But nothing seems real until the night she meets him in the flesh....
Afanasiv Belan is a Carpathian, and an ancient one. In all the centuries of his existence, no one has ever affected him like Vasilisa. He can see into her mind and feel what’s in her heart. They are so alike, warriors bound by honor and plagued by secrets. They both know they must reveal the darkest parts of their souls if they hope to survive and protect the ones they love.
But if they claim each other as lifemates it will change them down to the bone. They will become something more—something both of their kinds fear....
Christine Feehan is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of many novels, including the Carpathian series, the GhostWalker series, the Leopard series, the Torpedo Ink series, the Shadow Riders series, and stand-alone romantic suspense novels. Learn more online at www.christinefeehan.com
In the distance, Vasilisa caught the faint sound of air moving through labored lungs. There he was.
She had him now. She waited until she was positively certain that this was the man she was connected to.
Her man. The man whose soul she guarded so carefully. She began to match that labored breathing,
allowing her lungs to take on the same ragged gasps struggling for air. Once they were in perfect sync,
she began to even the two of them out slowly. He became aware of her instantly.
He went from near unconsciousness to his mind on complete alert. She felt him pushing into her
mind, and he was extremely strong. Like a battering ram. A tidal wave.
Be careful, she cautioned. There are others who might overhear if you aren’t cautious. How badly are
you injured?
He didn’t withdraw from her, but he remained silent as though thinking whether or not he was going
to answer her. You are?
She sighed. She should have known he would ask. There was no getting around this. Vasilisa
Sidkorolyavolkva. And you?
I am called Afanasiv Belan. Or Siv for short. The daughter of the royal wolf, he mused. Are you
aware of what you are to me?
Vasilisa didn’t know if it was because they were speaking telepathically to one another that his voice
stroked and caressed like a deep, husky velvet brush. Soft. Gentle. He sounded as if he belonged to the
night, just as she did. She only knew it was one of the most sensual experiences of her life.
She wanted to lie to him. She didn’t belong to any man. She was her own person and she went her
own way. He was the one who needed help, not her. She didn’t say any of that. Yes, of course. I connected
to you when you were first injured. Your head.
Forgive me. Had I known, I would not have allowed you to feel anything. You must leave this place. I
will find you once I know you are safe.
Her belly grew hot, and she knew her temper was fighting for supremacy. She hadn’t just sauntered
down a brick road to get to him. She’d fought a battle and killed men to make certain he was all right. He
was laid out like bait in a trap. He was bait in a trap. He’d been nearly unconscious when she’d first
arrived. A small kernel of doubt seeped in. Hadn’t he? He’d come alert awfully fast. Had he been faking?
I do not allow strangers to be accosted on my lands without retaliation. In any case, I believe they
are using you as bait to draw me to them. It would be nice to know why.
I wanted the answer to that question. That is why I am lying here on the ground looking pathetic with
my head bleeding. They did a poor job of weaving magic to tie me to the earth.
How many? And describe them, please. She ignored his high-handed order to leave. She was born
into the house of Korolyvolk—the royal wolf. She was royalty, and while she didn’t hold that over the
head of her people, no stranger was going to tell her what to do on her own land.
You are one of the very modern women who simply ignore anything her partner wants or needs.
She felt him heave a tremendous sigh. It was there in his mind. She might have found humor in the
situation, but there was something else she caught a glimmer of—the smallest of scars, although its
thickness gave her pause. That scar shouldn’t have been there in his mind. It wasn’t a barrier. He had
those in abundance, hard walls she couldn’t penetrate, nor was she attempting to do so. That thick scar
wasn’t actually in his mind, he’d been thinking of it in some conjunction with him. Sorrow had been
instantly overwhelming.
Excerpted from DARK WHISPER by Christine Feehan Copyright © 2022 by Christine
Feehan. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may
be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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