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nervously, but she stood resolutely.
Lucian hesitated. Mist would be easy to move quickly through time and space, streamlined, fast, unseen
by even the undead in the dark of night. "Mist takes the same amount of energy to create as
shape-shifting into owls or birds of prey with tremendous wingspans. It is essentially the same."
"How can our bodies be squeezed into the tiny little body of a bird?" Her voice was trembling. She
heard it but could do nothing about it. No matter how much she wanted to accept this, she was finding
the idea terrifying.
Lucian swept his arms around her. "I can help you, Jaxon. Will you trust me to do that for you? I can
make the acceptance easier."
Her first reaction was to shake her head firmly, her teeth grinding so hard on her lip that a small bead of
blood appeared. The idea of someone else controlling her was not to her liking, but when she made
herself take a breath, she felt differently. This was a part of her life now. Like it or not, she was no longer
human. She was Carpathian. There was no going back, only going forward. She had to learn to do this
somehow. And she was not going to be able to control every situation.
Lucian watched as she gnawed nervously at her lower lip. The sight was enough to tear at his
heartstrings. His palm slid around the nape of her neck, his fingers sliding over her skin, her pulse. Of
their own accord his fingertips stroked her blond hair soothingly. He bent his head to hers, his mouth
finding hers with ease, his tongue swirling a healing agent over her full lower lip even as he took the
essence of her blood into his body.
"Just to help me, to calm me down," Jaxon said softly. "I don't want you to take over my mind entirely."
His hand moved lovingly over her face. Taking overwas a temptation. It wasn't that he begrudged the
time. He had used up a good portion of the night getting the wolves ready for transport, preparing them
for the disturbing separation the pack would have to endure. He would spend every minute of this night
allowing Jaxon as much time as she needed to accept what must be done. To accept the tremendous gifts
she had inherited. Still, he was tempted to take control of her mind, to eliminate her fears, so that she
would cease to suffer so needlessly. He really had trouble bearing her pain.
As if she was touching his mind and reading his thoughts, she forced a small smile. "I can do this. I know
I can. If I do it this time with your help, I know I can do it by myself the next time. It would have come in
handy when I was facing that ghoul at the police station. I could have just evaporated."
"You will feel an incredible sense of freedom, Jaxon," he said softly, and he merged his mind fully with
hers. At once his calmness was hers, his tranquil mind centering hers. He built a picture in her head, in his.
Jaxon felt her body begin to fade well, not fade exactly, but begin to become light and airy. She
wanted to grab his hand and hold on tightly. He was an anchor in her mind, and, immediately, as her
terror began to rise, she felt the warmth and strength of his arms creeping around her. Except there was
no Jaxon anymore. She was vapor, a colorful mist like rainbow prisms. Droplets in the air. Surrounding
her was Lucian. Not flesh and blood, bone and sinew, but diamondlike specks moving swiftly to protect
her as they began to move through the sky.
It was unexpectedly exhilarating. Terrifying but exhilarating. They streaked skyward, right up toward the
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clouds. Jaxon had never experienced anything even close to the feeling. Power flowed through her and
out into the night sky.
She was aware of the sights below her, although not in the same sense as seeing them through her own
eyes. Rather, she was seeing them through Lucian as they streaked through the sky. They were moving
far too fast and she was too inexperienced to be able to focus on any one thing below them. Each time
she became at all distracted, Lucian's mind centered her, holding the picture of mist uppermost in her
mind. It was easy for him, second nature, so much so that he was no more aware of the mechanics of
shape-shifting than of walking. For Jaxon it was an energy-draining yet wild ride.
By the time Lucian called a halt, Jaxon was so exhausted she was barely able to resume her own form.
She was swaying, her skin so pale it was nearly translucent. Without Lucian to hold her up, she would
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