"There was a moment, --my love--when I awoke to your cry, and I was encased in the soil and powerless to help you. Only my fury fed the storm. As I clawed my way to the surface, I felt every slice of the blade, and I knew I had failed you. In that moment, Raven, I faced something so terrible, so savage and monstrous in me, I still cannot examine it too closely. If he had slain you, no one would have been safe. No one." He made the admission in a tight, controlled voice, his back rigid. "Not Carpathian, not human. I can only pray that if such a thing should ever happen again, Gregori will slay me immediately." Raven stepped in front of him and framed his face with her hands. "Sometimes grief brings things out in people better left hidden. No one is perfect. Not me, not Eleanor, and not even you." A faint, self-mocking smile touched his well-cut mouth. "I have lived centuries and endured vampire hunts, wars, and betrayals. Until you came into my life, I have never lost control. I never had anything I wanted so much. I never had anything to lose." She pulled his head down to her and pressed little healing kisses to his throat, to his strong jaw, to the hard corners of his mouth. "You are a good man, Mikhail." She grinned impishly, her blue eyes teasing. "You just have too much power for your own good. But don't worry, I know this American girl. She's very disrespectful, and she'll take all that arrogant starch out of you."