Christine Feehan Quote

Through the open doorway suddenly stepped a small woman, long ebony hair braided intricately, huge blue eyes flashing at Mikhail. As Byron shouldered his way inside behind her, she gave him a friendly smile and stood on her toes to brush his chin with a kiss. Mikhail stiffened, then immediately wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. Carpathian women do not do that kind of thing, he reprimanded her. She tilted her chin at him, in no way intimidated. That’s because Carpathian males have such a territorial mentality— you know, a beat-their-chest, swing-from-the-trees sort of thing. She turned her head to look at the couple lying on the floor. Her indrawn breath was audible. Jacques. She whispered his name, tears in her voice and in her blue eyes. It really is you. Eluding Mikhail’s outstretched, detaining hand, she ran to him. Gregori persuaded softly. Jacques’ gaze was fastened on the woman’s face, the red flames receding from his eyes as she approached. I’m Raven, Jacques. Don’t you remember me? Mikhail, your brother, is my lifemate. Raven dropped to her knees beside the couple. Thank God you’re alive. I can’t believe how lucky we are. Who did this to you? Who took you from us? Shea felt the ripple of awareness in her mind. Jacques’ shock. His curiosity. He recognized those tear-filled blue eyes. Shea caught a glimpse, a fragment of memory, the woman bending over him, her hands clamped to his throat, pressing soil and saliva into a pumping wound. Shea held her breath, waiting. Jacques’ silent cry of despair echoed in her head. She forced herself to move, found his hand with hers, silently supporting him as she regarded the woman kneeling beside her. Shea reprimanded deliberately. In the midst of Jacques’ pain and agony, his possessive fury and maniacal madness, something seemed to melt the ice-cold core of murderous resolve. The urge to smile at that feminine, edgy tone came out of nowhere. Something snarling to be set free retreated, and the tension in him eased visibly. Jacques asked innocently. Shea’s green eyes touched his face, and warmth spread further inside him. And the beast was temporarily leashed. Is this your lifemate, Jacques? Raven asked softly. Shea looked at her then, this woman who had been a part of Jacques’ life. I’m Shea O’Halloran. Her voice was husky and ragged. Jacques has been unable to use his voice since I found him. Raven touched Shea’s bruised throat with gentle fingers. Someone had better tell me what happened here. Her blue eyes were studying the dark smudges closely. Help her to the bed, Gregori interceded, distracting Raven from her study. he sent to Mikhail.

Christine Feehan

Through the open doorway suddenly stepped a small woman, long ebony hair braided intricately, huge blue eyes flashing at Mikhail. As Byron shouldered his way inside behind her, she gave him a friendly smile and stood on her toes to brush his chin with a kiss. Mikhail stiffened, then immediately wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. Carpathian women do not do that kind of thing, he reprimanded her. She tilted her chin at him, in no way intimidated. That’s because Carpathian males have such a territorial mentality— you know, a beat-their-chest, swing-from-the-trees sort of thing. She turned her head to look at the couple lying on the floor. Her indrawn breath was audible. Jacques. She whispered his name, tears in her voice and in her blue eyes. It really is you. Eluding Mikhail’s outstretched, detaining hand, she ran to him. Gregori persuaded softly. Jacques’ gaze was fastened on the woman’s face, the red flames receding from his eyes as she approached. I’m Raven, Jacques. Don’t you remember me? Mikhail, your brother, is my lifemate. Raven dropped to her knees beside the couple. Thank God you’re alive. I can’t believe how lucky we are. Who did this to you? Who took you from us? Shea felt the ripple of awareness in her mind. Jacques’ shock. His curiosity. He recognized those tear-filled blue eyes. Shea caught a glimpse, a fragment of memory, the woman bending over him, her hands clamped to his throat, pressing soil and saliva into a pumping wound. Shea held her breath, waiting. Jacques’ silent cry of despair echoed in her head. She forced herself to move, found his hand with hers, silently supporting him as she regarded the woman kneeling beside her. Shea reprimanded deliberately. In the midst of Jacques’ pain and agony, his possessive fury and maniacal madness, something seemed to melt the ice-cold core of murderous resolve. The urge to smile at that feminine, edgy tone came out of nowhere. Something snarling to be set free retreated, and the tension in him eased visibly. Jacques asked innocently. Shea’s green eyes touched his face, and warmth spread further inside him. And the beast was temporarily leashed. Is this your lifemate, Jacques? Raven asked softly. Shea looked at her then, this woman who had been a part of Jacques’ life. I’m Shea O’Halloran. Her voice was husky and ragged. Jacques has been unable to use his voice since I found him. Raven touched Shea’s bruised throat with gentle fingers. Someone had better tell me what happened here. Her blue eyes were studying the dark smudges closely. Help her to the bed, Gregori interceded, distracting Raven from her study. he sent to Mikhail.

Related Quotes

About Christine Feehan

Christine Feehan (born Christine King in Ukiah, California) is an American author of paranormal romance, paranormal military thrillers, and fantasy. She is a #1 New York Times, #1 Publishers Weekly, and International bestselling author of seven series; Carpathian (aka Dark Series), GhostWalker Series, Drake Sisters, Sister of the Heart (Sea Haven) Series, Shadow Riders Series, Leopard Series and Torpedo Ink Series. Six of the seven series have made #1 on the New York Times bestseller list. As of January 2020 she has 80 published novels. The first in her Torpedo Ink Series, Judgment Road, debuted at #1 on the New York Times bestsellers list.