Authors: Christine Feehan
Her fingers danced over his tight sac, her mouth perfection; at times she took him so deep the constriction shocked him while the sensation bordered on ecstasy. When he knew she was going to drain him, he tugged the chain again, forcing her forward, forcing her to lift her head.
Her jeweled gaze met his. She pouted at him. “I was hungry.”
“So am I,” he said, his voice close to a growl. He pushed her gently to the ground. “Very hungry. A wolf’s hunger.”
She shivered, and made a move as if she might remove the chains. He shook his head. “Leave them. I’ll remove them later. I like the bells and the way they look on you.” He tugged again at the chain between her breasts, lifting the two soft mounds slightly. “I never thought an adornment would look so beautiful against your skin. Your skin is flawless, amazing, and such a perfect color.” Her skin felt—and looked—like soft rose petals flushed with heat.
“I have scars,” she said softly and went to touch the raised ridge between her breasts.
He caught her hand and pushed it back to the ground. “This body belongs to
me
,” he snapped, and leaned down as he pulled up on the chain, lifting her breasts so that he could nip at the underside of her left breast. “
Mine
. And it’s perfection. You don’t get to ever say anything disparaging about this body.” He ran his tongue along the ridged scar from one breast to the other, teasing and tugging at the chain.
He’d made the declaration half in humor and half serious. He loved her body and he never wanted her to feel less than beautiful. He kissed his way down from the jeweled tips of her breasts to her intriguing belly button. He spent some time there, teasing and nipping before moving lower to inspect those mysterious little bells. If she moved, bucked her hips, would that same vibration run through his cock? A small experiment was in order. The music continued to play, drifting on the wind, the branches of the trees swaying gently, as if keeping time. He lifted her hips, wedging his shoulders between her thighs to hold her open to him. She was a beautiful flower full of nectar, and he wanted it all.
He bent his head and lapped at the honey spilling from her. She bucked hard. The tiny bells jingled along the chain running from one nipple to the other as her breasts swayed. The bells around her hips chimed, soft little musical notes that vibrated through his cock, sending electrical shocks singing through his entire body.
He held her firmly, a hungry wolf, doing what he did best—devouring her. He used his tongue to draw out the nectar he craved. He used the edge of his teeth to tug on her sensitive bud to keep the bells playing. He suckled strongly, listening to the beauty of her voice crying out as he drove her up fast and hard, over and over, sending her body into a series of wild orgasms that rocked her.
Each movement sent the bells frantically singing and his cock nearly exploding with the intensity of the vibrations. He shifted position again, kneeling between her legs, needing to be inside of her. Her lashes were at half-mast, the green eyes glazed and sensual. Her full lips were parted, her breathing ragged as he moved over her, entering her in one brutal thrust.
She sobbed his name as he paused, holding himself deep in her while he bit down on the chain between her breasts, sucking it into his mouth and holding it between his teeth. He surged into her again and again and each time he did, the chain tugged on her breasts. All the while he stayed merged mind to mind, better to feel the hot pleasure streaking through her nipples, down her belly and into her tight sheath as he thrust in and out of her. Her fiery core had never been quite so scorching, fisting around him, clamping down like a vise so that the friction as he pounded into her nearly sent them both up in flames.
Fire arced from one nipple to the other as he tugged the chain with his teeth. The bells chimed and the flames jumped to his cock, scorching him like white lightning. He could feel exactly what she felt, that fire burning through her breasts, a delicious, sweet burn that flashed through her body like a storm to center around his shaft.
He didn’t want the sensations to ever stop for either of them, but he could feel her body growing hotter, tightening around his cock mercilessly, almost to the point of strangulation. The ground turned a subtle shade of red, her body was a magnet, drawing the magma that was at the very earth’s core just as it sought to draw the seed from him.
She whispered his name, a soft plea, and he took her over the edge, soaring with her, freefalling through space, while her muscles clamped down around him, milking him, surrounding him with her particular fire. He didn’t wait for the aftershocks to cease. He leaned down and carefully removed one jewel from her nipple, and drew her breast into the soothing heat of his mouth.
Her breath hissed out and her lashes drifted down, a look of intense pleasure on her face. He stroked her nipple over and over with his tongue, ending with kisses before attending to the other breast. Her sheath tightened around him, clamping down hard as he released the jewel and took her breast into his mouth. The soft moan added to his conviction that the fire in her only seemed to be growing, and no matter how passionate they were, how often he took possession of her body—or even how he took possession—the fire between them would only get hotter.
Do you have any idea how much I love you, Branka? he asked, his voice low, a strange lump choking him. He had to clear his throat several times.
“Yes,” she said quietly, reaching up with her slender arms to circle his neck. You love me as fiercely as I love you. And it grows with every moment we’re together.
Did the chain hurt you at all?
She laughed. “I’m Carpathian, wolf. I would never play with something that hurt in the way you mean. I felt fire, but you know I love that burn. If it got to be too intense, I simply turned down the heat a notch. You were in my mind, feeling what I was feeling, watching to make certain you weren’t hurting me in any way. I felt you there, caring for me. Protecting me. That’s why I trust you so much, Zev. You put me first.”
“You’re my mate. The love of my life. My everything. Of course I’m going to make certain you feel nothing but pleasure, any way I can give it to you.”
“Naturally,” she agreed, “although, Zev, your nature dictates who and what you are. You would put my health, happiness and pleasure above your own regardless of whether we were lifemates or not. That’s what I love most about you.
Who
you are.”
She raised her face to his, kissing him slowly, taking her time, the fire in her mouth sending a fiery arrow straight to his heart. He kissed her back with the same passion, the same fire, but his mouth was infinitely tender, showing her without words how much he felt for her. When he lifted his head she was smiling at him. He found himself smiling back and once again began moving in her body, this time slow and leisurely. They had all the time in the world.
Carpathian Healing Chants
To rightly understand Carpathian healing chants, background is required in several areas:
1. THE CARPATHIAN VIEW ON HEALING
The Carpathians are a nomadic people whose geographic origins can be traced back to at least as far as the Southern Ural Mountains (near the steppes of modern-day Kazakhstan), on the border between Europe and Asia. (For this reason, modern-day linguists call their language “proto-Uralic,” without knowing that this is the language of the Carpathians.) Unlike most nomadic peoples, the wandering of the Carpathians was not due to the need to find new grazing lands as the seasons and climate shifted, or the search for better trade. Instead, the Carpathians’ movements were driven by a great purpose: to find a land that would have the right earth, a soil with the kind of richness that would greatly enhance their rejuvenative powers.
Over the centuries, they migrated westward (some six thousand years ago), until they at last found their perfect homeland—their
susu
—in the Carpathian Mountains, whose long arc cradled the lush plains of the kingdom of Hungary. (The kingdom of Hungary flourished for over a millennium—making Hungarian the dominant language of the Carpathian Basin—until the kingdom’s lands were split among several countries after World War I: Austria, Czechoslovakia, Romania, Yugoslavia and modern Hungary.)
Other peoples from the Southern Urals (who shared the Carpathian language, but were not Carpathians) migrated in different directions. Some ended up in Finland, which accounts for why the modern Hungarian and Finnish languages are among the contemporary descendents of the ancient Carpathian language. Even though they are tied forever to their chosen Carpathian homeland, the wandering of the Carpathians continues as they search the world for the answers that will enable them to bear and raise their offspring without difficulty.
Because of their geographic origins, the Carpathian views on healing share much with the larger Eurasian shamanistic tradition. Probably the closest modern representative of that tradition is based in Tuva (and is referred to as “Tuvinian Shamanism”)—see the map on the previous page.
The Eurasian shamanistic tradition—from the Carpathians to the Siberian shamans—held that illness originated in the human soul, and only later manifested as various physical conditions. Therefore, shamanistic healing, while not neglecting the body, focused on the soul and its healing. The most profound illnesses were understood to be caused by “soul departure,” where all or some part of the sick person’s soul has wandered away from the body (into the nether realms), or has been captured or possessed by an evil spirit, or both.
The Carpathians belong to this greater Eurasian shamanistic tradition and share its viewpoints. While the Carpathians themselves did not succumb to illness, Carpathian healers understood that the most profound wounds were also accompanied by a similar “soul departure.”
Upon reaching the diagnosis of “soul departure,” the healer-shaman is then required to make a spiritual journey into the netherworlds to recover the soul. The shaman may have to overcome tremendous challenges along the way, particularly fighting the demon or vampire who has possessed his friend’s soul.
“Soul departure” doesn’t require a person to be unconscious (although that certainly can be the case as well). It was understood that a person could still appear to be conscious, even talk and interact with others, and yet be missing a part of their soul. The experienced healer or shaman would instantly see the problem nonetheless, in subtle signs that others might miss: the person’s attention wandering every now and then, a lessening in their enthusiasm about life, chronic depression, a diminishment in the brightness of their “aura,” and the like.
2. THE LESSER HEALING CHANT OF THE CARPATHIANS
Kepä Sarna Pus
(The Lesser Healing Chant)
is used for wounds that are merely physical in nature. The Carpathian healer leaves his body and enters the wounded Carpathian’s body to heal great mortal wounds from the inside out using pure energy. He proclaims, “I offer freely my life for your life,” as he gives his blood to the injured Carpathian. Because the Carpathians are of the earth and bound to the soil, they are healed by the soil of their homeland. Their saliva is also often used for its rejuvenative powers.
It is also very common for the Carpathian chants (both the Lesser and the Great) to be accompanied by the use of healing herbs, aromas from Carpathian candles and crystals. The crystals (when combined with the Carpathians’ empathic, psychic connection to the entire universe) are used to gather positive energy from their surroundings, which then is used to accelerate the healing. Caves are sometimes used as the setting for the healing.
The Lesser Healing Chant was used by Vikirnoff Von Shrieder and Colby Jansen to heal Rafael De La Cruz, whose heart had been ripped out by a vampire as described in
Dark Secret
.
Kepä Sarna Pus
(The Lesser Healing Chant)
The same chant is used for all physical wounds. “Sívadaba” [“into your heart”] would be changed to refer to whatever part of the body is wounded.
, nélkül sívdobbanás, nélkül fesztelen löyly.
You lie as if asleep, without beat of heart, without airy breath.
Ot élidamet andam szabadon élidadért.
I offer freely my life for your life.
O jelä sielam
ot ainamet és
ot élidadet.
My spirit of light forgets my body and enters your body.
O jelä sielam pukta kinn minden szelemeket
.
My spirit of light sends all the dark spirits within fleeing without.
o susu hanyet és o nyelv nyálamet sívadaba.
I press the earth of our homeland and the spit of my tongue into your heart.
Vii, o verim
o verid andam.
At last, I give you my blood for your blood.
To hear this chant, visit: http://www.christinefeehan.com/members/.
3. THE GREAT HEALING CHANT OF THE CARPATHIANS
The most well-known—and most dramatic—of the Carpathian healing chants was
En Sarna Pus
(The Great Healing Chant)
. This chant was reserved for recovering the wounded or unconscious Carpathian’s soul.
Typically a group of men would form a circle around the sick Carpathian (to “encircle him with our care and compassion”) and begin the chant. The shaman or healer or leader is the prime actor in this healing ceremony. It is he who will actually make the spiritual journey into the netherworld, aided by his clanspeople. Their purpose is to ecstatically dance, sing, drum and chant, all the while visualizing (through the words of the chant) the journey itself—every step of it, over and over again—to the point where the shaman, in trance, leaves his body, and makes that very journey. (Indeed, the word “ecstasy” is from the Latin
ex statis
, which literally means “out of the body.”)
One advantage that the Carpathian healer has over many other shamans is his telepathic link to his lost brother. Most shamans must wander in the dark of the nether realms in search of their lost brother. But the Carpathian healer directly “hears” in his mind the voice of his lost brother calling to him, and can thus “zero in” on his soul like a homing beacon. For this reason, Carpathian healing tends to have a higher success rate than most other traditions of this sort.