Lair of the Lion

Lair of the Lion

by Christine Feehan

Paperback(Mass Market Paperback - Reprint)

View All Available Formats & Editions
Choose Expedited Shipping at checkout for guaranteed delivery by Wednesday, December 11


“The Queen of paranormal romance.”
USA Today

A classic from #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan, Lair of the Lion is a  dark-edged and enthralling take on the beloved “Beauty and the Beast” fairy tale. It is the breathtaking story of a beautiful, penniless aristocrat who promises herself to the handsome, powerful, mysterious, and not wholly human Don Nicolai DeMarco in order to free her imprisoned brother—even though legend has it that the Don will destroy any woman he weds. Perhaps best known for her bestselling “Dark” series, featuring the haunted and mesmerizing immortal Carpathians, Feehan is arguably the biggest name in paranormal historical romance—and any reader who loves passionate love stories tinged with the supernatural should enter the Lair of the Lion.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780062021359
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date: 01/31/2012
Edition description: Reprint
Pages: 432
Sales rank: 205,488
Product dimensions: 4.10(w) x 6.60(h) x 1.50(d)

About the Author

Christine Feehan has had more than forty novels published, including four series which have hit #1 on the New York Times bestseller list. She is pleased to have made it onto numerous other bestseller lists as well, including Publishers Weekly, USA Today, Washington Post, BookScan, B. Dalton, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Waldenbooks, Ingram, Borders, Rhapsody Book Club, and Walmart. In addition to being a nominee for the Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award, she has received many honors throughout her career, including a Career Achievement Award from Romantic Times and the Borders 2008 Lifetime Achievement Award.

Read an Excerpt

Lair of the Lion

By Christine Feehan


Copyright © 2002 Christine Feehan
All right reserved.

ISBN: 084395048X

Chapter One

The wind was shrieking through the narrow pass, bitter and cold, piercing right through her well-worn cape. Isabella Vernaducci pulled the long fur-lined cape closer around her shivering body and glanced anxiously at the high cliffs rising sharply overhead on either side. It was no wonder the don's army had never been defeated in battle. It was impossible to scale those terrible cliffs that rose straight up into air, like towers reaching to the clouds.

There was a shadow lurking within Isabella, an impression of danger. It had been growing steadily stronger in the last few hours as she traveled. She ducked her head into the horse's mane in an attempt to gain some relief from the unrelenting wind. Her guide had deserted her hours earlier, leaving her to find her own way along the narrow, twisting trail. Her horse was nervous, tossing its head and jumping skittishly from side to side, showing every sign it wanted to bolt as well. She had the sensation that something was pacing along beside them, just out of sight. She could hear an occasional grunt, almost like a cough-a strange noise she'd never heard before.

Isabella leaned forward, whispering softly, soothingly into the ears of her mount. Her mare was used to her, trusted her, and, although its great body was trembling, the animal madea valiant effort to continue forward. Icy particles stung both horse and rider, like angry bees piercing flesh. The horse shuddered and danced but moved stoically forward.

She had been warned repeatedly of the danger, of the wild beasts roaming freely in the Alps, but she had no choice. Somewhere up ahead of her was the only man who might save her brother. She had sacrificed all to get here, and she would not turn back now. She had sold everything she had of value to find this man, had given what remained of her money to the guide, and had gone the last two days without food or sleep. Nothing mattered but that she find the don. She had nowhere else to go; she had to find him and be granted an audience with him, no matter how elusive, no matter how dangerous and powerful he was.

His own people, so loyal they refused to help her, had warned her to stay away. His lands were enormous, his holdings vast. Villages and townships whispered of him, the man they looked to for protection, the one they feared above all others. His reputation was legend. And lethal. It was said he was untouchable. Armies attempting to march into his holdings had been buried by snow or rock slides. His enemies died swift and brutal deaths. Isabella had persisted despite all warnings, all accidents, the weather, every obstacle. She would not turn back no matter how the voices in the wind howled at her, no matter how icy the storm. She would see him.

Isabella glared up at the sky. "I will find you. I will see you," she declared firmly, a challenge of her own. "I am a Vernaducci. We do not turn back!' It was silly, but she felt convinced that somehow the owner of the great palazzo was commanding the very weather, throwing obstacles into her path.

A noise like grating rock captured her attention, and, frowning, She swung her head around to look up at one steep slope. Pebbles were bouncing down the mountain, picking up speed, dislodging other rocks. Her horse leapt forward, squealing in alarm as a shower of debris pelted them from above. She heard the chink of the horse's hooves as it scrambled for purchase, felt the great muscles bunching under her as the animal fought to stay on its feet amidst the rolling rocks. Isabella s fingers were nearly numb as she gripped the reins. She couldn't lose her seat! She would never survive the bitter cold and the wolf packs that roamed freely through the territory. Her horse crow-hopped, stiff-legged, each movement jarring Isabella until even her teeth ached from the impact.

It was desperation more than expertise that kept her in the saddle. The wind lashed at her face, and tears were torn out of the corners of her eyes. Her tightly braided hair was whipped into a frenzy of long, silken strands, pried loose by the fury of the coming storm. Isabella kicked her mare hard, urging it forward, wanting to be out of the pass. Winter was fast approaching, and with it would come heavier snowfalls. A few more days and she never would have made it through the narrow pass.

Shivering, teeth chattering, she urged the horse along the winding trail. Once she was out of the pass, the rising mountain on her left side dropped away to a ledge that appeared crumbling and unstable. She could see jagged rocks far below, a drop-off she had no hope of surviving should her horse lose its footing. Isabella forced herself to remain calm even as her boot scraped along the mountainside. Small rocks tumbled from above, rolled and bounced on the narrow ledge, and careened off into empty space.

She felt it then, an oddly disorienting sensation, as if the earth shimmered and twisted, as if something better left alone had awakened upon her entrance into the valley. With renewed fury the wind slashed and tore at her, ice crystals burning her face and any part of her skin that was exposed. She continued riding for another hour while the wind came at her from all directions. If blew fiercely, viciously, seemingly directing itself toward her. Overhead, storm clouds gathered rather than move swiftly away with the wind. Her fingers tightened into fists around the reins. There had been a hundred delaying tactics. Small incidents. Accidents. The sound of voices murmuring hideously in the wind. Strange, noxious smells. The howling of wolves. Worst was the terrible far-off roar of an unknown beast.

She wouldn't turn back. She couldn't turn back. She had no choice. She was beginning to believe the evil things said about this man. He was mysterious, elusive, dark and dangerous. A man to avoid. Some said he could command the very heavens, that the beasts below did his bidding. It didn't matter. She had to reach him, had to throw herself on his mercy if that was what it took.

The horse rounded the next bend, and Isabella felt the breath leave her body. She was there. She had made it. The castello was real, not a figment of someone's imagination. It rose up out of the mountainside, part rock, part marble, a huge, hulking palazzo, impossibly large and sprawling. It looked evil in the gathering dusk, staring with blank eyes, the rows of windows frightening in the lashing wind. The structure was several stories high, with long battlements, high, rounded turrets, and great towers. She could make out large stone lions guarding the towers, stone harpies with razor-sharp beaks perched on the eaves. Empty but all-seeing eyes stared at her from every direction; watching her silently.

Her mare shifted nervously, sidestepping, tossing its head, eyes rolling in fear. Isabella's heart began to pound so loudly it was thunder in her ears. She had made it. She should have been relieved, but she couldn't suppress the terror welling up inside her. She had done what was said to be impossible. She was in sheer wilderness, and whatever manner of man lived here was as untamed as the land he claimed dominion over.

Lifting her chin, Isabella slid from the back of the horse, clinging to the saddle to keep from falling. Her feet were numb, her legs wobbly, refusing to support her. She stood still for several moments, breathing deeply, waiting to recover her strength. She stared up at the castello, her teeth worrying her lower lip. Now that she was actually here, now that she had found him, she had no idea what she was going to do. White wisps of fog wound around the palazzo's columns, creating an eerie effect. The fog stayed in place, seemingly anchored there despite the ferocious wind ripping at her.

She walked the horse as close to the castello as she could manage, tying the reins securely, not wanting to lose the animal, her only means of escaping. She tried patting the mare's heaving sides, but her hands were clumsy and burning with cold. "We made it," she whispered softly. "Grazie." Hunching deeper into her cape, she pulled the hood up around her head and was swallowed by the garment. Stumbling in the vicious wind, she made her way to the steep steps. For some reason she had been certain the castello would be in a state of disrepair, but the steps were a solid, shiny marble beneath her feet. Slippery with the tiny ice particles on them.

Huge lion heads were carved on the great double doors, incongruous so far out in the Alpine wilderness. The eyes were staring fiercely, the manes shaggy, and the great muzzles open, revealing fangs. The knocker was inside one mouth, and she was forced to put her hand in past the teeth. Taking a deep breath, she reached in, careful not to cut her flesh on the sharpened spikes. She let the knocker fall, and the sound seemed to vibrate through the palazzo while the wind lashed at the windows, furious that she had escaped into the comparative shelter of the rows of columns and buttresses. Shaking with cold, her legs weak, she leaned against the wall and tucked her hands inside her cape. He was within the walls of the castello. She knew he was home. She felt him. Dark. Dangerous. A monster lying in wait ... He was watching her. She felt eyes on her, malevolent, malicious, venomous eyes. Something evil lurked in the bowels of the palazzo, and with her peculiar sensitivity, she felt it like a fist around her heart.

The compulsion to run back into the fury of the storm was strong. Self-preservation told her to stay in the shelter of the large castello, but instead, everything inside her rose up in rebellion. She couldn't make herself knock again. Even her tremendous willpower seemed to desert her, and she actually turned toward the lashing wind, ready to take her chances there. Then Isabella clamped down hard on her wayward imagination. She was not going to panic and run back to her horse. She actually grasped the heavy doorframe, her fingernails digging in hard to hold her in place.

The creak of the door warned her. Soft. Ominous. Forbidding. A portent of danger. The interior beyond was dark. An elderly man dressed in severe black stood looking at her with sad eyes. "The Master will not see anyone."

Isabella froze where she was. Seconds earlier she had wanted nothing more than to run back to her horse and ride away as fast as she possibly could. Now she was annoyed. The storm was growing in a frenzy, sheets of ice slamming to earth, white crystals covering the ground almost instantly. As the door began to swing closed, she thrust one booted foot into the crack. Jamming her ice-cold hands into her pockets, she took a deep breath to calm her trembling body. "Well, he will have to change his mind. I shall see him. He has no choice."

The servant stood impassively, staring at her. He neither moved out of her way nor opened the door wider to allow her entry.

Isabella refused to look away from him, refused to give in to the terrible warnings shrieking at her to run while she still had the chance. The storm was full-fledged now, the howling wind hurtling pieces of ice that felt like spears even into the shelter of the covered entryway. "I must put my horse in your stable. Please direct me immediately." She lifted her chin and stared the servant down.

The manservant hesitated, glanced into the darkened interior, and then slipped out, closing the door behind him. "You must leave this place. Go now." He was whispering, his eyes restless and his gnarled hands shaking. "Go while you still can." There was desperation in his eyes, pleading. His voice was a mere thread of sound, almost unheard in the bitter shrieking of the wind.

Isabella could tell that his warning was genuine, and her heart stuttered with fear. What was so terrible within that this man would send her out into an icy blizzard to take her chances with raw nature rather than have her enter the palazzo? Where his eyes had been blank before, they were now filled with trepidation. She studied him for a moment, trying to judge his motives. He had a quiet dignity about him, a fierce pride, but she could smell his fear. It oozed out of his pores like sweat.

The door opened a crack, no more. The servant stiffened. An older woman poked her gray-haired head out. "Betto, the master has said she must come in."

The male servant sagged for a fraction of time only, his hand shooting out to the doorframe to steady himself, but then he was bowing low. "I will see to your horse myself." His voice was flat, revealing no emotion at all at his being caught in a lie.

Isabella looked up at the high walls of the castello. It was a fortress, nothing less. The great doors were large and thick and heavy. Her chin rose, and she nodded at the older man. "Grazie tanto for going to so much trouble for me." To warn me. The unspoken words hung between them.

The man lifted an eyebrow. She was clearly an aristocratica. Women such as this one rarely even noticed a servant. He was shocked that she didn't berate him for his lie. That she seemed to understand he was desperately attempting to help her. To save her. He bowed again, hesitated slightly before turning toward the icy storm, then squared his shoulders in resignation.

Isabella stepped across the threshold. Alarm triggered her heart to thud wildly. A thick stench of evil permeated the castello. It was a cloud, gray and somber and edged with malice. She took a deep, calming breath and looked around her. The entryway was quite spacious, tapers burning everywhere to light up the great hall and dispel the darkness she had glimpsed. As she stepped inside, a wind whipped down the corridor, and the flames leapt in a macabre dance. A hiss of hatred accompanied the wind. An audible hiss of acknowledgment. Whatever it was recognized her just as surely as she recognized it.

The interior of the castello was immaculately clean. Wide-open spaces and high, vaulted ceilings gave the impression of a great cathedral. A series of columns rose to the ceilings, each ornately carved with winged creatures. Isabella could see the apparitions winding their way upward. The castello preyed on the senses-the artwork rich, the structure impressive-yet it was a trap for the unwary. Everything about the palazzo was beautiful, but something unearthly watched Isabella with terrible eyes, watched her with malignant hatred.

"Follow me. The Master wishes you to be given a room. The storm is expected to last several days." The woman smiled at her, her smile genuine, but her eyes held a hint of worry. "I am Sarina Sincini." She stood there a moment waiting.

Isabella opened her mouth to introduce herself, but no sound emerged. All at once she was aware of the utter silence in the huge palazzo. No creaking of timbers, no footsteps, no murmur of servants. It was as if the castello were waiting for her to utter her name aloud. She wouldn't give her name to this hideous palazzo, a living, breathing entity of evil. Her legs gave way, and she sat down abruptly on the marble tiles, close to tears, swaying with a dark dread that was a stone in her heart.

"Oh, signorina, you must be so tired." Signora Sincini immediately wrapped an arm around Isabella's waist. "Allow me to help you. I can call a manservant to carry you if need be."

Isabella shook her head quickly. She was shaking with cold and weak from hunger and the terrible journey, but the truth was, it was the unnerving feeling of a malignant presence watching her that filled her with dread, that caused her already shaking legs to collapse beneath her. The feeling was strong. Carefully she looked around, trying to appear composed when all she wanted to do was run.

Without warning, from somewhere close by a roar filled the silence. It was answered by a second, then a third. The horrifying noise erupted from every direction, near and far. For one terrible moment the sounds blended and surrounded them, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. The roars reverberated throughout the palazzo, filling the vaulted spaces and every distant corner. A strange series of coughlike grunts followed. Isabella, standing with Signora Sincini, felt the older woman stiffen. She could almost hear the servant's heart thudding loudly in tune to her own.


Excerpted from Lair of the Lion by Christine Feehan Copyright © 2002 by Christine Feehan
Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See All Customer Reviews

Lair of the Lion 4.2 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 181 reviews.
harstan More than 1 year ago
The goal seems simple enough: rescuing her brother. Finding anyone capable o aiding her in his enormous duchy like pelazzo in the Alps is so formidable that everyone tells Isabella Vernaducci to go home. She has heard tales about the Don that strike fear in the hearts of the bravest souls, yet aristocratic Isabella obstinately continues her quest to find the enigmatic, more myth than man, Nicolai DeMarco.

When Isabella locates Nicolai (or perhaps it is more the other way around), she does not see the Don who allegedly controls the beasts to do his dirty work. Instead she sees a man haunted by a curse that the intrepid Isabella is determined to free Nicolai from it. When Nicolai offers to save her sibling on the condition she marry him, Isabella readily agrees as she knows she needs no stipulation to wed the Don. Still as she risks her life to save her tortured beloved, she wonders if she will ever gain his love even if she eliminates the beast that holds his soul.

More than just Christine Feehan fans will enjoy this delightful paranormal romance as the rarely used early nineteenth century Alps setting (almost Gothic in nature), the intrepid heroine, and the tortured male protagonist come together in exciting fashion. Though readers will admire and question Isabella¿s bravery at the same time, the audience will relish her efforts to emancipate the two men she cherishes from their respective ¿incarcerations¿. LAIR OF THE LION is a wonderful novel that readers will appreciate if they set aside the time to luxuriate in a one sitting read.

Harriet Klausner

Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Interesting twist on the Beauty and the Beast story. Likeable characters, make you hope that they can overcome the obstacles. Although there were a few parts that could be explained more: evil entity, why the bad guy has so much power, etc., it was still a fun read. Wish there would have been more interaction with the ghosts, as they seem like a fun bunch. Overall, I did like it, and would read it again despite the minor flaws.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I enjoy many of Christine Feehan books, and I was not disappointed with this story. I wish this book could have been made into a series! I suggest this book
Guest More than 1 year ago
Okay when i first started reading Feehan's novels i thought wow but around the third novel i started to think wait a minute all the leading men appear to be very similar. I'm not saying that Feehan doesn't have an imagination maybe its just very limited. All the leading ladies are the same they all seem to clash and appear to have the same qualities and traits but look slightly different. I read scarletti curse and then read this book and realised its exactly the same. A change of the characters appearance and scenery but its all very similar i'm beginning to find it difficult to identify the difference between many of the authors books. I hope Feehan creates fresh forthcoming books.
PatchesPN More than 1 year ago
I enjoy reading "Paranormal Romance", and was not disappointed with this one. I do not re-read very many books, but I will this one. Also Christine's other one "The Scarletti Cruse" was great. Both are real keepers!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
If you have read and enjoyed any of her other books, you should enjoy this one as well. In reading and evaluating books, I believe the beauty of the book is in "the eye of the beholder". I really enjoyed getting lost in the story, personally.... but then I am not usually the type to look for anything other than the escspe in the story.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I have always enjoyed Christine Feehan's books. I was not dissapointed in this enstallment. I can't believe I read this in one sitting. I just could not put it down.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
It lagged a bit in places and a few of the plot points were repetative, but overall it was enjoyable. Maybe a tad too hoakey to fully endorse.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This is one of the best from this author. This book is amazingly written, full of emotion, love and passion. Not only do I reccomand, but I am buying again to add to my paper back collection!!!! ( for the reviewer below ) If you have you have read her writing before and don't like it, don't buy another! But don't knowingly dislike the author style ( or kinky side) and buy the book then give it poor review.
Squirellydessie More than 1 year ago
This isn't a Dark Series book but it's is one of my favorite books from Christina Feehan. Just the right amount of drama and suspense to keep you turning the page even if it means staying up until 4 am. The hero in the book is dark, mysterious and handsome. The heroine is not a wimp but instead she plays a strong female.
jennyburnett More than 1 year ago
This book grabbed me on the first page! Great introduction to her books! I'll be reading more of her work for sure!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I loved this new book by Christine Feehan!! I think it is the best one she has written yet!!
Blackcloud924 More than 1 year ago
After reading Feehan's Dark Series, I was a bit apprehansive about reading another of her creations. Fighting between the hope that this book would be just as good as her others and the fear of disappointment because she has set her own bar so high. Well I'm glad to say i was not in the least bit disapointed. I loved her characters, plot twists and story line as always. Not to mention those seens that get the reader hot under the collar.
shirlsweetSE More than 1 year ago
Anything of Christine Feehan is a winner
dj52 More than 1 year ago
Recommend: very entertaining, a quick read, and easy to follow.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Feehan is one of my favorites. I just loved this book!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Kept me guessing till the very ending. Painted beautiful scenery for me to get lost in. Wonderfully written.
Guest More than 1 year ago
hmmm... the scarletti curse and the lair of the lion are very similar to the beauty and the beast. The male either a jealous man or a lion is a beast in the eyes of the readers and the women.. the beautiful, thoughtful caring creatures who will love the beast no matter what.. That's all i'm saying folks!
Guest More than 1 year ago
The classic tale of Beauty and the Beast has a whole new twist thanks to Ms. Feehan's Lair of the Lion! Love of her brother leads her to the cursed valley of Don DeMarco's. Legend and rumor make it a deadly place. She not only has to deal with the Beast, she's expected to deal with his pride of lions stalking her and Something Else, a taint of Evil as well! Loyalty and the same Love gives Isabella the courage to forge foward where so many had failed. She makes it into the valley where she takes her life and heart, hands it to Don DeMarco in a valiant attempt to save her brothers life, rid the valley of it's curse and win the toughest battle of all, the heart of Don DeMarco. Lions abound in this heartstopping story, from the pride of lions that stalk the valley to DON DeMarco himself. The wealth and depth of the characters is nothing short of spectacular, from the DON to his anscestors, to his insane (?) sister to the surprising twist at the end. Danger lurks in every corner, evil seeps into the castle like oil. No one is safe from the curse. Who can Isabella trust? Find yourself a comfortable spot and let Lair of the Lion lure you in for the afternoon. Ms. Feehan has produced another wonderfully constructed story, as is her trademark, fashioning for us a world to lose ourselves in, knowing that we trust her to keep us enthralled to the very end! I wait with baited breath to see if we will get Lucca and Franseca's story!!! Runuts Y yes I am for romance
Cullen18 6 months ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Lair of the lion, is one to keep and return to read more than once.
klarsenmd on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
This wasn't bad. I think some of the best novels like this are the ones that aren't part of a series, just a good stand alone story. This one had all the characteristics of Ms. Feehan's other works, but wasn't as repetative as soem of the others.
wyvernfriend on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
A beauty and the beast story. This is set in Italy. Isabella Vernaducci is trying to save her brother and the only person powerful enough to do so is Don Nicolai DeMarco. He's reputed to have some magic about him and there are legends about the lands he claims as his. They find themselves drawn to each other, but can he defeat the evil within himself, will she be able to help him or will the beast defeat both of them.Pretty predictable story, but passable.
Kyrie on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Not one of her best, but still a good read. A tad to gotic for me.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Christine Feehan Is truly a remarkable story teller. This story is inspiring, exhilarating and constantly in motion. Made me wish for a sequel but it was adequately ended on its own