Dark Slayer

Razvan woke to the sound of a woman weeping. He didn't open his eyes. He had heard that sound so many times-that same voice. Natalya. Beloved sister. He whispered her name as his gut tightened into hard knots. He must have betrayed her once again. He didn't remember anymore, thank God. That was the worst of all torments Xavier could inflict on him-using him to attack his sister or his daughter or the aunts.

He felt Ivory's awareness as if she, too, came awake to the sound of that hopeless weeping. Nothing seemed quite as hard to bear with Ivory close-not the pain and not the terrible knowledge of the betrayal of mind and body. Natalya was the one person who had loved him all of his life. She had believed in him in spite of all the times Xavier had tricked and used her through him. Xavier had even used his body to try to kill Natalya. She had nearly killed his body-and he would have welcomed death.

You did not betray her, Dragonseeker. Not ever. Not in thought. Not in deed. Xavier used your body because you protected her.

Ivory was calm. Ivory was peace. Ivory had become his world.

Why does she weep? He could no longer trust what was happening to him, his memories seemed to mix past and present together until his world was hazy and vague. His sanity was Ivory.

For you. For the torment you went through on her behalf. She understands now that you never betrayed her, that you saved her from Xavier. Ivory's voice was a soft caress, pride and respect for him surrounding him.

She had a way of making the world right when nothing really made sense. He didn't fight the pain swamping him. He simply accepted it, but he didn't want Natalya weeping for any reason.

Do not cry for me, sisar-sister. Even trying to communicate telepathically hurt, although he was either getting used to it, or he was healing enough to ease the worst of his suffering.

Razvan? Is it really you? They tell me you live, but when I reach for you, you are different.

I am your brother.

There was a silence. A sob. Natalya forced herself under control. He tricked me, didn't he? Xavier tricked me. You tried to warn me, but I didn't hear you. All those years, and I believed him. It wasn't you at all. It was the personality he fed me so I would continue to create spells for him.

Xavier is a cunning enemy.

I should have known. I should have fought for you as you fought for me. How could I not have known? You are my twin. My brother. How could he have fooled me?

I didn't want you to know. You would have tried to rescue me and you would have failed, Natalya. He is a monster. As long as you were alive in the world and safe from him, whatever I had to give up was worth it.

My love? My respect? My faith in you? The world branded you a criminal and I believed them. Was it worth it?

Your safety was worth any price to me. I do not regret for one moment placing myself in his hands to keep you from him. It was my choice. One I have clung to for many years. Do not take that away from me with regret.

He had never wavered in that decision, even in the most insane hours of his life. He knew what their grandfather would have done to her, and keeping her from Xavier's hands was the one thing, the only thing, that he had managed to do. And whether she-or anyone else-was proud of him, he was proud of himself.

Ivory's spirit moved against his, surrounded his, almost protectively, but she remained silent, not interfering in the exchange between sister and brother.

All those lost years, Razvan, years when you needed me.

He forced a smile into his voice, made certain she knew it was genuine. It was difficult to block the pain from his tone, but he did it to protect her. I needed you free of Xavier, and that is what I got. During the time I was part mage and part Carpathian, the thought of you, my love for you, sustained me. Later, after the aunts turned me wholly in the hope that I might have the chance to escape, the Dragonseeker blood aided my resolve to protect you. You were there for me whether you knew it or not, sister. Do not weep. Do not regret. Live free the way you were meant to.

I have a lifemate.

Xavier had tried to murder her lifemate. Tell me about him.

He is called Vikirnoff and he is a great warrior. You would like him.

What of my daughter, Lara? He nearly choked over her name.

A small child with enormous eyes, watching her mother's decomposing body, chained to an insane father who tore at her little wrist to feed. Lara was one person he was not certain he could ever face.

You protected her as best you could. You endured torment and gave part of your soul to Xavier in order to save her, Ivory reminded. She either understands or she does not. If she does not it will be sad for her that she chooses not to know so great a man.

If he could have held Ivory close in his arms he would have.

We will dance to heal the earth, so that she can better provide her rich minerals for you. Lara is coming to aid us. Lara, Syndil, Skyler and I will dance and sing the healing song for you and your lifemate. It is the only gift we have to give you.

I do not know Syndil or Skyler.

They are wonderful women. Syndil is really close to the earth. When she walks barefoot, plants bloom behind her. She can take an area a vampire has virtually laid to waste and restore it to health. Skyler is young; she turned seventeen just recently.

There was a note, a hesitation in his sister's voice. Something she wasn't telling him. Something she didn't want to tell him. Natalya, better to prepare me than to let me be shocked.

Few things shocked him anymore, but he had the feeling she was going to deliver something he didn't want to hear.

Ivory moved against him again. Heart to heart. Soul to soul. I am with you, Razvan. You will never be alone again.

Ivory's voice was enough to make his heart sing. Love had been lost to him a long time ago. He hadn't believed he could feel such a powerful emotion for anyone, yet there it was. In him. Deep. How could he not love her when she gave him back his sanity? His life? When she embodied the honor and integrity he believed in?

Natalya took a deep breath. We believe you also fathered Skyler. There is another woman as well, a lifemate to one of the De La Cruz brothers. Colby. She lived on a ranch in California before she met Rafael.

He closed his mind to Natalya but there was no escaping Ivory, and the memory of a child in a mine shaft rose up. He had desperately tried to get to her before they had managed to kidnap her and take her back to Xavier. He'd brought the mine down on the vampire before Xavier had taken over his body again. He was grateful the child lived and prospered-but another one? Skyler? How many more? And from the hesitant tone Natalya used, young Skyler hadn't fared well.

Are you certain I fathered these girls?

Yes.

His heart again jumped out of rhythm with that of the earth and pain swept him away.

Razvan woke to singing and he knew time had passed. The voices were beautiful, soft and melodious, in tune with the earth. As they sang, the pain in his body eased considerably as if the earth could better absorb the terrible wounds in his body and knit him back together.

Isn't their song beautiful? Ivory asked. Her voice was hushed, as if she was afraid she would interrupt the tribute to Mother Earth. They are gifted, these four women. And are they all related in some way to you? Sister? Daughters? I feel a part of you in them, though one, the strongest daughter of the Earth, is different and yet like you in some way.

Razvan felt the melody deep in his bones. Peace had once again slid over him, the knowing that he could not change what fate had already decreed. Acceptance-his only recourse when the world around him made no sense.

Natalya says the young one is my daughter, but the one called Syndil I do not know. She is much older, older perhaps than I.

She feels as you feel. That same calm, at peace with herself in spite of the turmoil around her. She is . . . There was a frown in Ivory's voice as she tried to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. The earth welcomes her as she welcomes me. As a daughter. A true daughter. There are only a few of us.

Is she related to you, Ivory? Razvan could feel the strength in the woman Ivory was speaking of. The earth rejoiced and welcomed her. There was joy in the layers of soil beneath him, joy in the rock beneath the soil. How do I feel that? How am I so connected to the earth? Through you?

Mother Earth has accepted you as her son. She will come to your aid should you have need. She has found you worthy. There was satisfaction in Ivory's voice.

He felt humbled by the earth's acceptance of his torn body and wounded soul; not worthy, but he was grateful.

My body is healing. The dance is rejuvenating the soil and Mother Earth is pouring minerals into our bodies to speed healing, isn't she? He felt that connection strongly now. He heard the beat of the music and the stamp of feet, felt the pattern of the dance as they poured love and healing into the earth itself.

He realized they were all connected, not apart, and for the first time he understood the concept of the prince and why he was so important to the Carpathian people. He connected them in the way the earth did. Mikhail was the very blood of the people.

That's why Xavier wants him dead. To kill the prince might literally kill the species. We have to stop him, Ivory. Whatever else we do, we have to stop Xavier. We cannot be distracted by going after vampires or anything else; Xavier has to be stopped.

Ivory's mind slipped over his, mirroring that exact knowledge, in accord with him. It only mattered that they heal their bodies as fast as possible and then find a way to remove the threat of Xavier from the world.

Time passed. There was often the ceremonial healing of the earth, and each time brought renewed soil, working to repair the mortal wounds. And Gregori came to them nightly. They often protested, knowing they were taking his strength and blood, even his healing energy, but he was single-minded in his purpose, and nothing they said could stop him.

Razvan came to like and respect the man. He was stubborn, tenacious, determined to heal them as quickly as possible. Ivory had been leery of taking his blood at first, a natural reaction when self-preservation had been her way for hundreds of years, but necessity forced her to take what was offered. Gregori and Nicolas De La Cruz were the two Carpathians who came daily to take care of them. Often the prince came along and gave his blood, the richness and healing qualities like no other.

Nicolas had wept when he learned Ivory was alive and Razvan felt the mixture of joy and sorrow bursting through her. She had never thought that she would ever see the De La Cruz brothers again, family to her, adored brothers every bit as close to her real brothers as she had been, yet even they could not prevent the Malinov brothers from turning.

It was Razvan who held Ivory close, surrounding her with his heat, merging his mind and heart with hers to keep her from weeping uncontrollably, to steady her while she renewed her relationship with Nicolas, lifemate to his daughter Lara. It was Nicolas who fed her wolves for her and made certain they were well cared for. Most of the time the wolves snuggled beside them, there in the soil, sleeping the weeks away, waking only to feed when Nicolas arrived, and then sleeping again.

Razvan recognized Nicolas's face from Ivory's meticulously carved wall. Each stroke had been carved with loving care, and he felt that same deep love in Ivory each time Nicolas spoke to her. That man's voice was soft, gentle, almost as if she was still the young girl from centuries earlier. He didn't seem to recognize the fierce warrior in her, only her gentle side, as if he might be blinded to who she was by his love for the child from long ago.

On some level, he realized that it was Nicolas's lack of knowledge of who Ivory was that kept Razvan from the terrible possessiveness a lifemate would feel when other males were close to their female. Ivory loved Nicolas with the love of a sister, but it was Razvan who knew her intimately, her intriguing mind and the wonderful, intelligent brain that worked fast and accurately on any problem. Razvan spent a great deal of time in her mind, going over what she knew of vampires and learning how best to fight them. She was a wealth of information, and as much as Nicolas loved her, he would never see her true value.

He sees me the way you see Natalya. She is a warrior and yet you wish only to protect her and keep her safe. There was amusement in Ivory's voice.

Her tone felt like velvet stroking over his skin. Perhaps little sisters should never grow up, but simply stay young for their brothers. He matched her teasing tone.

I am grown up. A woman. Her amusement faded to be replaced by something altogether different. When we leave this place of comfort and healing-and we will soon to join the real world with its hardships and cruelty-I will miss our closeness. There was real regret in her voice. The thought of going back to her lonely existence after intertwining her mind so deeply with his was disturbing to her.

Han ku vigyaz sielamet-keeper of my soul, you are also, han ku kuulua sivamet-keeper of my heart. We are bound together, lifemates for all eternity. When we rise, ready to fight our enemy, we rise as lifemates. I asked you if that was what you wished and your reply was clear to me. We do not separate. We face the future together, whatever it should bring.

Ivory sighed softly. I am prepared to do that. I just meant… She trailed off and he felt her searching for the right words to express whatever troubled her.

When she was silent for so long, he reached for her mind, his touch as gentle as a lover's caress. Once again he took her into another realm, his mind in hers, leading her away from pain and what they both knew they would have to face when they rose.

His hand slipped into hers and he walked with her, side by side, his body brushing against hers, walking into the night, taking her to his garden, the one place he was familiar with, the one place he loved and could share.

Flowers cascaded down the terraced rock and covered arbors of white. The fragrances mingled, rising above the mazes of shaped hedges and bushes. Trees formed small groves of oranges and lemons with taller evergreen towers on the corners of the stone-fence-wrapped garden. Weeping willows stood at the edges of the blue-green pond, while a few ducks swam lazily, dunking their heads beneath the rippling surface and coming up to shake the water from their feathers.

Ivory looked around her. «You grew up here?»

He brought her fingers to his chest, over his heart. «It was our mother's family home. We lived here for some time after she passed away. And then my father disappeared and Xavier took us away. But this was where we were together and happy.»

«It's beautiful.»

«I used to believe it was the most beautiful spot in the world, but I think you managed to create that in your home.» Razvan looked around him and inhaled to drag the scent of lavender into his lungs.

«Our home,» Ivory corrected. «It is our home now.»

He felt the instant reaction in his heart to her words. Home. What would that be like, to feel as if he had a home, a woman to share his life with? They had a purpose for living, for suffering the fires of hell: to rid the world of its greatest evil-Xavier. For a short time he could simply be with Ivory, enjoy walking with her through a beautiful garden.

Ivory glanced sideways at him and then quickly averted her eyes, her long lashes hiding her expression.

Razvan stopped to push the long fall of silken hair from her face and back over her shoulder. «You are hiding from me.»

Color rose, turning her pale skin to a soft rose. «Maybe. A little.»

«I had no idea you were a little shy. You are such a fierce warrior and wholly confident, I thought you would be that way in all things.»

She shrugged. «I have little experience with men-most of it long ago and not good.»

He grinned at her, a slow, heart-stopping smile that revealed his straight white teeth, and suddenly seemed a little shy as well. «My body has a tremendous amount of experience, but not my heart-and not me. Truthfully, I feel like a young boy on his first date.»

She lifted her chin. «It is my first date.»

He regarded her steadily, his dark eyes drifting over the exquisite bone structure of her face. His gaze settled on her full lips. «Then we must make it memorable.» He couldn't conceive of forgetting this moment, this one time with her, surrounded by the memory of his garden and so close to her that he could breathe the same breath.

She lifted a hand to his face, worn and lined, as if he still couldn't change that look, even in his dreams-even in his memories. He had forgotten what his face had looked like in his younger days, forgotten being a carefree youth. He could only give her what he was now, and hope that it was enough for her.

«You will always be enough for me,» she whispered, meaning it. «I had stopped dreaming of my prince long ago.»

«What was he like?»

She smiled, her eyes warming. «Tall, of course, with long, black, flowing hair and broad shoulders. He was a great warrior and he rescued me from my tower where my brothers had imprisoned me. He wanted me to ride beside him on his snorting, rearing steed, a sturdy animal that blew smoke through his nostrils and pawed the ground with impatience to rush headlong into battle.» She laughed softly at a young girl's dreams.

Razvan made a face. «I am tall, but my hair is streaked with white, and I cannot say I am an accomplished warrior. But I would surely rescue you and take you off to ride beside me anywhere we went, including battle.»

Her fingertips went to one particular thick white streak in his hair. She rubbed the silky strands back and forth between her thumb and index finger. «A warrior is not someone who merely fights, Razvan. You have the heart of a warrior and the soul of a poet. I find you fascinating.» She dropped her gaze. «And tempting.»

There was a moment when his breath caught in his lungs. Tempting? He tempted her? There was no shadow of evil inside his body. Nothing stood between them and she confessed to him that she was tempted by him? Ivory's stark honesty moved him as nothing else could.

His palm curled around the nape of her neck, drawing her closer to him. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face, could see-not just feel-the softness of her skin. He had more discipline than any man walking the face of the earth, yet he could not stop himself from leaning his head down those scant few inches and closing the distance between them.

His lips brushed hers. Barely touching. Feather-light. His body reacted, clenching hard, tightening, every muscle, every cell coming alive, paying attention to that smallest of sensations.

Ivory didn't pull away from him. They stood in the middle of his garden, surrounded by cascading flowers of all colors, birds and butterflies, bees flitting from one bloom to the next, a place of absolute serenity, and time just seemed to stand still for them.

His hands framed her face and he tilted her head so his mouth could come down on hers again. She sighed into his kiss, her body somehow closer. He didn't know if he moved or she did, or maybe it was the earth shifting under his feet, but her mouth went from warm to hot to burning just that fast.

The sensation opened up an entire new world, one of pleasure, of intense sensation. Where his life had been pain and suffering, her mouth, soft and hot and enticing, swamped him with immeasurable pleasure. It wasn't just a physical sensation, but his mind was merged deeply in hers, feeding off her pleasure, heightening it as she heightened his. His heart was fully engaged, nearly overwhelmed with the feelings that had been growing stronger and stronger from the moment he'd first opened his eyes and saw her face, from the first touch of her gentle fingers as she pushed back his hair.

His tongue swept across the seam of her lips, not tentatively, but not pushing her beyond what she wanted to give. His hands were gentle, in contrast to the hard aggression of his body. Her mouth opened to his and he was inside that soft, scalding cavern of heat and fire. Flames licked at his belly. His groin tightened even more, swelling and hardening, and deep in his belly an inferno raged.

He took his time, as gentle as ever, savoring the reaction of his body as he explored her soft mouth, savoring her reaction, the small breathy moan that nearly drove him insane, the small movement that pressed her soft breasts against his chest and aligned the cradle of her hips with his. Little sparks ignited everywhere and the world seemed to spin away even further.

His hands slipped into that silky fall of hair cascading down her back. Each new exploration of her skin and body added to his rising pleasure, further intensifying it.

You are the most incredible woman ever born. He meant it. He let her see the truth of his statement in his mind, in his heart. He'd never imagined such feelings, of the strength of emotion and the intensity of his physical reaction to her.

His body had been used by Xavier, yes, but he hadn't been present, only witnessing the degradation at a distance. He had never experienced pleasure from the joining, only sorrow and regret when he could recall the emotions. And now that he had emotion in abundance, he felt distaste and shame at the memories, along with sorrow and regret. He hadn't expected . . . this-the wonder and beauty of love blossoming right here in his garden along with his flowers. Had he been in the real world he might have scoffed at the poetry singing in his soul, but here, in his dream, in his memories, the words were perfect, fitting the way he felt.

Her body shuddered against his, and her hands came up to grip his arms. He felt the sudden hesitation in her, the simultaneous urge to pull him closer and push him away. She was as unused to trusting, to sharing herself as he was-maybe more. The needs slammed into them like the vicious punch of fists, overwhelming her. It mattered little how gentle his touch was, the desire burned hot and unexpected, a firestorm out of control.

She stepped back, shaking her head, her fingers pressed against her trembling mouth and his dark eyes blazing with heat. She looked confused and a little shocked, as if she hadn't expected to feel anything other than physical pleasure-certainly nothing quite as intense as what had happened between them. It always surprised him that Ivory, so confident in herself as a warrior, was not as sure of herself as a woman.

He cupped the side of her face and ran the pad of his thumb over her soft, exquisite skin. Abruptly everything in him stilled.

«Ivory, look at your skin.»

The lines that had been raised over her body, jagged and thick, were now white and smooth. They were still there, segmenting the seams of her body, but without the thickness that had marked them. The white lines cut through her body much like a jigsaw puzzle, and always would, but now they were smooth and soft, a part of her skin rather than raised scar tissue.

Ivory touched one of the lines just above the swell of her breasts. «This is the combination of the healer, the Carpathian blood and the soil. Amazing. I thought those hideous scars would be there forever.»

«They were not hideous.» He bent his head and brushed his lips over a smooth white line bisecting her body.

Ivory's womb clenched and she went damp. The brush of his hair against her skin felt like sin. How could he move her the way he did? Crawl inside her heart so that she felt weak when he was close? She had taken such care not to let anyone matter. Nothing could matter but destroying Xavier. It was her one purpose. Her only purpose.

She felt her fingers move in that thick fall of luxurious, striped hair. So dark the color made his eyes a piercing cobalt, so white it played over his lined face, making him look older and much more distinguished than most Carpathian males. She clenched his hair in her fist as her gaze drifted moodily over his face.

Razvan was so serene. Deep inside where there should have been rage at the atrocities committed against him, she found only peace and acceptance. His will was the strongest she'd ever encountered in centuries of battle, yet he felt no compulsion to force it on others. He stood there looking at her as if she was the very moon, a goddess, beautiful beyond comparison, his gaze hungry, his body urgently demanding hers, yet he didn't push her beyond where she was willing to go. There was no ego. No sense of demand in him, simply a quiet strength, a rock she found astonishingly peaceful and sexy.

There was a scant inch between them now. Whether she had moved or he had, she couldn't really say, but it seemed necessary to taste him again. She ached to feel the heat, the sweep of his tongue sliding against hers, the fire that blazed the moment they came together. Her heart had simply melted and her stomach had gone jittery. She knew she was flirting with fire, but right then, at that precise moment with his hair brushing seductively against her skin and his body hard and hot, yet his soul so peaceful, the combination drove her past fear and into a frenzy of need.

She lifted her mouth and took his. For a dazzling moment, the world seemed to go up in flames, shifting away from them so they spun out of control, burning together, hot and wild, mouths fused together, minds welded tight, hearts beating the exact same rhythm. She hadn't known how lonely she was until his mouth moved over hers-until his mind moved in hers. She hadn't known her body could be so alive until she'd felt the skim of his fingers touching her reverently, exploring as if it was imperative to memorize every small inch of her body.

She hadn't known she could be so scared of losing someone again. She pulled away from him, but his hands held her close, not letting her escape too far. Unable to look at him, Ivory pressed her forehead against his chest.

«I had no idea I was such a coward.»

He laughed softly. «You are far from a coward, han ku vigyaz sielamet-keeper of my soul. You are an extraordinary woman.» His lips brushed the top of her hair, lingered there for a moment, before he dropped his chin on top of her head and nuzzled her.

«I cannot imagine the Carpathian males being so careful with their lifemate's feelings as you are with mine.»

He caught her chin and lifted her face to his. «We are not like others. We never will be. We make our own rules and we live by ourselves. Our world is different, Ivory. Never think yourself less because you are careful with your emotions. You are a warrior with a mission, a momentous task that few others would ever try to undertake. Never sell yourself short in any way. I take great pride in you and in the fact that I was chosen to be your lifemate. It is an honor like no other.»

He meant it, she knew. She was in his mind and he meant every word. He made her feel special. It was an odd feeling after being thrown away by the Carpathian people, after the betrayal of her brothers when they made the decision to join the ranks of the undead and ally themselves with Xavier for power. It was odd to feel the intensity of Razvan's emotions for her: his pride, the honor he felt, the absolute unwavering devotion to her. He was a selfless man, uncaring what others thought of him, but fiercely proud of her.

Her heart did a jittery slide that seemed to go on forever, a slow turnover, and she knew she was lost. «I am more afraid of what is between us than I was facing the master vampire.»

A master vampire who had once, long ago, been her very loved brother. Razvan curled his fingers around the nape of her neck and held her close to him, offering comfort when she didn't ask for it. She would never ask for it.

«I buried them long ago,» she whispered, laying her head against his chest and letting the strength in his arms hold her up. Here, in this dream garden, with no one around, she could show weakness, just for a moment, because she knew Razvan accepted her exactly for who she was. «I carry their souls in mine, in the hope that when I go to the next life, what I have done will count for them, and they will be given a second chance. Whether they take it or not is up to them. I had completely reconciled myself to their loss but . . .» She trailed off.

There were no words to express the overwhelming grief and wrenching sense of betrayal when her brother had used the illusion of his earlier self in an attempt to kill her. She knew he would have destroyed her as easily as he would the farmer and his family, Travis and Razvan. She had been completely unprepared for that terrible pain, the heartache she felt at seeing him again.

«I think it would be normal to feel that way. I was prepared for my sister to despise me, and I certainly feel I am prepared for my biological daughters to detest me, but that does not mean it won't hurt.» He held her close, surrounding her with warmth. «You have a loving heart, Ivory. You guard it well, but those you let into your life are there permanently, regardless of what happens. I've heard the love in your voice and felt it in your mind each evening Nicolas comes to give us blood. It's the love of a sister and yet it has been centuries since you have seen him, and he has done many troubling things in his life.»

«But he is such a wonderful man. He is so in love with Lara, your daughter,» Ivory pointed out. «I could love him for that alone. He has not yet completely brought her into this world, although both of them suffer for it. They give so much to the Carpathian people, trying to save the babies.»

«She has become sensitive to the light,» Razvan agreed. «And she cannot go to ground, but she can live many years without too many problems.»

«He worries she will get pregnant in her half-state. Did you catch in his mind exactly what she can do that no other can?»

«She is part mage, and they need a mage to hunt the microbes invading the women's bodies. The microbes kill most of the children.»

Ivory frowned and pulled away from him. She looked around the lush garden with its abundance of shrubs and flowers. Water wound lazily along the bed of a pretty little stream, coloring the rocks in sparkling golds and silvers. The ribbon of a waterfall zigzagged along the high rock face forming one wall of the garden. The water shimmered in a long drop. Butterflies flitted and birds sang even under the shine of the moon overhead. It was a dream world.

They could stand together, close like they were, and she could feel the first thrill of love blossoming, the fierce physical pull between them, but even here, the real world crept in. Even here the snake that was Xavier crept in.

«He cannot reach us here,» Razvan said. «He no longer has my mind.»

«But he can. He colors the world in evil, Dragonseeker. Evil is such a little used word, yet he embodies it. There is no monster in the world equal to him. You saved Lara from him . . .»

«My aunts saved Lara. Even when they might have had a chance to escape, Xavier used my body to plunge a knife into Branislava's breast. They were already so weak, kept drained of blood to feed his insatiable need.»

«As were you.»

Razvan made no response, just kept pace with her as she went to the entrance of the maze. She took his hand again and drew him inside the labyrinth of tall shrubbery.

«Lara is still dictated to by Xavier. She cannot be wholly converted until he is destroyed.» Ivory sighed. «We must find a way to rid the world of such evil.»

«It is Lara's choice to remain in the half-world between mage and Carpathian. Her lifemate will protect her, just as I would you. That's freedom, Ivory, true freedom, and thankfully her lifemate understands she needs that above all else. He must trust her enough to know that when he tells her time is over for their safety, or health, that she will listen to him and allow him to convert her and bring her fully into the Carpathian world. He will not let her give too much of herself, nor would any of the Carpathians want her to do so,» Razvan pointed out. «Ivory,» he stopped her again, standing in front of her to bring her hand to his mouth.

Very gently he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her knuckles-knuckles that had seen too many fights and would see many more. «We have accepted that we will hunt Xavier. And we will not stop until we destroy him. But we will live while we take this journey. Each night we rise, we will live. Every minute. Every moment. We will celebrate our lives and enjoy our journey, good or bad. He cannot have us. He cannot have those we love.» He brought her knuckles back to his mouth and swirled his tongue over the scars there. «Do you understand what I am saying to you?»

Ivory took a breath. She felt herself falling forward into the very depths of his eyes, a very non-warrior-like thing to do, but in that moment she didn't care. A slow smile warmed her eyes to liquid gold. Razvan had just given her a key to the way he had survived. He would not ever allow Xavier to truly own him. Whatever path his journey had taken, he had accepted the consequences and was at peace with his decisions, no matter how difficult they might have been.

She brushed back that thick mane of silky striped hair, and then allowed her fingertips to trace the worn lines in his face. Her throat closed on an unexpected lump. «Do you wish for peace, Razvan? Should I have allowed you to slip into the next life?» The lump threatened to choke her. At times he looked so worn, his eyes old, his mind filled with too many memories-none of them good.

«I would not have wanted to miss being with you for the world. Perhaps I spent those long years with Xavier for just this purpose, Ivory. How do we know what we are meant to do? I had years to learn his ways and now each test matters. I do not forget. Ever. Anything you need is stored in my head. And I will quickly absorb all of your battle experience. We will make such a pair as the world has never seen.»

He leaned forward and kissed her again, a slow, heart-stopping kiss that robbed her of strength so that she clung to him, shaken by the intensity of her emotions. When he lifted his head, his eyes were warm with love. She saw it, stark and unafraid, a raw emotion he didn't bother to hide from her and it made her ashamed of her own fear.

«We will make a pair such as the world has never seen,» she agreed.

Razvan and Ivory burst through the soil together, coming up out of the earth's arms after weeks of healing underground. The sensation of breathing air again was strange after so long sharing the soil and its healing properties. The moon was a full silver ball in the clear sky, glowing softly and casting light over the snow-covered terrain. Ivory, cautious as always, scanned their surroundings for any hint of danger.

Razvan followed her lead, reveling in his growing Carpathian knowledge. He stretched as he made a full circle, using all of his senses to gather information. He realized he saw and felt differently. He even processed differently. Before, as a Carpathian at full strength, he had been astonished at the flood of information coming to him, but now it was even more intense. It was if the earth spoke to him, whispered her secrets, and ferreted out the smallest detail to share with him. He had changed somehow, beneath the ground. The soil shared something unnamed with him, allowing the trees and plants, the soil itself to pour a wealth of knowledge into him.

He turned his head to look at his lifemate. She was wearing her familiar fighting garb, the double-breasted vest and pants that molded to her long legs. Her hair was in the thick long braid that signaled business. He loved watching her move, all flowing muscle and soft curves.

«What?» She smiled at him with genuine warmth. There was happiness in her eyes, and with a glow of satisfaction, he knew that he had brought it into her life.

«You are beautiful.» He bent his head and took a tentative lick along his newly healed arm where the white lines clearly matched hers. «I bet if I were to taste you at this precise moment, you would taste of salt and sin.» There was a high concentration of minerals in his skin, and he could discern the complex mineral recipe that had been used to heal both of them. He had been revitalized, with trace minerals flowing through his blood, and all of the elements pressed into his body to allow it to reemerge whole again.

«I want to see your wounds.»

Her gaze flicked to his face. «I do not understand.»

«I know the vampire injured you, Ivory, and you took care of me rather than heal your wounds. I need to see what is left of the damage.»

«Really, scratches. Nothing.»

His eyebrow raised. «I recall his shoving an arrow into your breast right over your heart.» As he spoke a ripple of pain crossed his face. «When you pulled your hand from his chest it was nearly severed.» Razvan swallowed hard, his dark brows coming together in a frown. «He withdrew the arrow from your body, twisting it to do the most damage, and plunged it two inches lower, driving it deep. He was enormously strong and he punched your breast, right over your heart, with tremendous force. I heard your sternum crack.»

Had he? She didn't even remember. She remembered Razvan had come to her aid in spite of his condition, sending a fiery blast at Sergey's back, shoving him onto her fist so she could get to the blackened heart. When Sergey had attacked by bringing down the house and forming spears that flew at her from everywhere, Razvan had used his strength to form a barrier around her, taking the brunt of the wooden spears in his own body.

«He broke your wrist.»

How had he noticed when he had been so horribly mutilated? Ivory shook her head, unable to speak, not when his gaze moved over her body with brooding allure, touching her in places deep and secret and feminine.

He had to quit reciting the list of her injuries, so pale in comparison to his own. His voice was so gentle, she couldn't get it out of her head. The way he looked at her body when he spoke, as if her injuries were all that mattered to him, the healing of them, the fact that the vampire had hurt her. When she touched his mind, she felt nothing but his need to make certain, to see for himself, that she was wholly healed.

«Mother Earth and the healer aided me, and several Carpathians including the prince gave us blood to speed our healing process. I am fine.»

«Nevertheless.»

There was a note in his voice that fascinated, thrilled and repelled her all at once. She was unsure how to react to his demand and that confused her.

«What would you have me do?»

He held out his hand to hers. «Let me see.»

She moistened her lips, feeling a little shaky, on unfamiliar ground, but she held out her hand to him so he could see the faint lines where the earth had healed the lacerations and knit the bone back together. She was unprepared for the feeling of his gentle fingers stroking over her skin. She felt his touch all the way to her deepest core, and then her heart stood still while his mouth moved over each of the faint white lines and his tongue swirled and stroked a velvet pleasure over her skin.

«You do taste like salt and sin,» he said, and his voice roughened with hunger.

She pulled her arm away. «Are you satisfied?»

He shook his head, his gaze locked on hers. «Open your vest.»

Her breath actually hitched in her lungs, burned there, raw and hot. Her womb clenched and spasmed, sending ripples of urgent need radiating through her body. His request wasn't sexual. It didn't need to be sexual. Her body didn't have to grow damp and hot with flames licking over her skin and turning her blood into a molten stream that thickened in her veins. She could just be cool about this, one warrior reassuring another. Her hands went to the silver buckles.

«Let me.»

His voice was husky, maybe even shook a little, but it made her weak. So much so that she obeyed his silent command when his hands came up and covered hers to halt her unsteady fingers and gently push them aside. The pads of his fingers brushed against the swell of her breast, sending ripples of awareness through her body. His gaze remained locked with hers as he slowly unbuckled the vest and allowed her full breasts to emerge. Only then did he drop his gaze.

She heard him inhale. A sharp, sexy sound that curled her toes. She felt his breath warm her breasts, and her nipples answered by hardening into two tight peaks. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but she couldn't move, mesmerized by the look on his face, the stark, raw desire, the unrelenting hunger and admiration in his eyes. When he stroked his fingertips, feather-light, over the faint lines along the swell of her breast and then again lower, his thumb brushing along her nipple, lightning streaked from breast to belly and then lower, so that her thighs spasmed and her core grew hotter and wetter.

Razvan bent his head toward her. She wanted to stop him. She thought to take a step back, terrified of the feelings coursing through her body and the sudden terrible need that welled up out of nowhere, threatening her hard-won peace of mind. She had chosen him, but she hadn't considered that the physical and emotional pull between them would be so strong. She could barely breathe when he touched her, and she had no control over her body's reaction to him. She held her breath, waiting. Wanting.

His hair touched her first. Soft strands of black and white silk brushing seductively over her skin. Every cell in her body came to life. The breath burned in her lungs. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as she struggled not to bury them in his hair and cradle his head to her. She was in his mind, and knew this inspection was as necessary to him as breathing. And now it was to her.

At the first gentle touch of his mouth she jumped, and in spite of her every intention, she found her hands buried in that silky fall of hair. His tongue flicked out to swirl over each line and circle, to flick over her nipple, sending darts of fire racing to her belly and spreading even lower. Her hands tugged him closer even as a low moan escaped. His tongue slid along each line, his healing saliva providing a balm to the deep ache that was still there.

When he lifted his head, his eyes were so dark they were almost black, so blue they were like midnight and so hot with desire she thought she might melt. Her hands trembled and she forced her fingers to let go of the silky strands so he could stand tall. She just stood there while he slowly buckled her vest, enclosing her breasts behind the tight leather.

Ivory took a deep breath, shaken, but proud of herself for standing. «Are you satisfied?»

Razvan's eyes lit up with a male amusement and he deliberately shifted to ease the thick bulge in his trousers. «Not hardly, but I have assured myself you are healing well, and that will do for now.»

The color crept up her neck. She shook her head. «You are crazy, but in a good way.» She looked back toward the rich black soil, desperate to find something to divert her attention-to divert his attention from her. She gestured toward the ground where they could see the traces of excessive salt running like king's gold in deep veins through the darker loam where the wolf pack still lay sleeping.

«Are you ready for this? They have been attended to by others, Vikirnoff and Nicolas, Natalya sometimes, but they will be ravenous for us. Feeding is part of the ritual of sealing the pack together. They're like my children.»

Razvan knew she needed the distraction to feel in control again. Emotions were difficult for her. His heart fluttered in his chest and he found himself smiling at her. Happy. Just to be alive. Just to be with her on this crisp, cold evening, with the moon spilling light over her blue-black hair, framing her face so that she looked as angelic as she did sexy.

«I am certain they will be happy to be out of the ground after all these weeks,» he agreed. «Let us do this and bring our family back together.»

He found he was as anxious as she to see the wolves. They had become family to him. He had spent so long in her mind that her deep affection for the pack members had transferred to him as well. «As children go, they are a fairly wild bunch.»

Ivory laughed with him, sharing his humor over the pack. She stretched her arms and called softly to her pack. «Awake brothers and sisters. We will run free this night. Come with me. Join with me.»

She sent Razvan another quick smile that managed to raise his temperature and quicken his heartbeat. The soil boiled up into a geyser and one by one the six wolves leapt free, shaking their gorgeous silver coats and rushing to Ivory, nearly knocking her over. She sank to the ground, laughing, her arms surrounding them as they greeted her with more enthusiasm than manners.

Raja and his mate, Ayame, turned to Razvan and he sank down beside Ivory, surprised when the big male leapt at his chest and rubbed his body along Razvan's in greeting. He realized just as he had accepted the pack as family, they had accepted him as Ivory's mate. Joy swept through him. A family. Another gift from Ivory. He sank his fingers into the thick fur and roughhoused a little, ignoring the show of teeth, feeling the wolf's laughing intent.

Each animal took its turn coming to him and greeting him, being welcomed by him and reaffirming its position in the pack. He found he was particularly fond of Blaez, the second-in-command. He was quietly confident and very alert to danger, taking his cues from Raja, yet guarding the pack with a fierceness that told Razvan he would have had a pack of his own had his circumstances been different. He felt that same fierce protec tiveness toward Ivory and the pack, and there was a sense of kinship when he stroked his hand through the thick fur and scratched the alert ears.

The pack was eager to feed, needing the bond, and he waited for Ivory to make the decision on how she wanted them fed.

You feed Raja and Ayame and then I will. Next Blaez and his mate Gynger. Last will be Farkas and his mate, Rikki. If we start off that way, they will accept your leadership faster.

The offer of leadership in the pack was another great gift. He knew, after a century of being led by Ivory, they would always respect her and follow her, and she was now stepping aside in order to get the pack to follow his lead as well.

It is not necessary. I do not mind the present order. I may end up planning our battles but you will be leading us. I will protect you with everything in me.

She looked at him with soft eyes. «I mind. I want them to accept you as I have.»

His stomach clenched in response, his groin thickening. But it was his heart that was most in danger. He drank her in as he offered his wrist to Raja, the rich beauty of her, not so much her physical body, but the light in her soul that shone over his.

The silver alpha wolf looked at Ivory and then obediently trotted over to Razvan and accepted the first feeding as was his due. Razvan fed the big male, all the while keeping his gaze locked on Ivory.

For so long he'd had nobody in his world, no one to send him warmth, to make him smile, to care whether he lived or died-and yet now there she was, sitting like some forest princess in the middle of her unusual wolf pack, willing to share her life with his, even if it was so he could aid her in destroying Xavier. He would take that-he'd take any reason at all, as long as she included him in her family.

«You are as essential to me as the air I breathe or the soil we rest in.» He wanted her to know that he would have chosen her no matter what their destiny had been. He wanted her to know that because of her, the sacrifices in his life had been more than worthwhile.

She shot him a look from under her thick lashes. «You are my lifemate, my other half.»

He smiled at her, refusing to feel a sting at her reminder. She didn't have to feel the same way. «That is not what I am saying to you. I am not asking for anything in return, Ivory. I just felt it was important for you to know how I feel.»

The alphas were finished feeding from Ivory now and the second pair took their place as the smallest ones fed on Razvan. He was beginning to get a little dizzy. Ivory hadn't been kidding when she said they would wake up ravenous and would want to bond with the ritual blood.

Ivory ducked her head and he saw her fingers curl deeper into Gynger's thick pelt. The tip of her tongue moistened her bottom lip, drawing his immediate attention. He'd made her nervous again, and that endeared his fierce warrior to him all the more. She wasn't the least bit comfortable talking about emotions. The wolves pressing close to her and winding around their mates seemed to give her the necessary impetus to answer him.

Her chin came up and her eyes reluctantly met his briefly before her long lashes once again veiled them. «You mistake my meaning.»

That was all he was going to get out of her, but it was enough for him. The slow burn that started in his belly mixed with the blaze of love in his heart, making for a potent combination. He savored the feeling of wanting her. He had never thought he would feel that for a woman. He abhorred the crimes his body had committed and never thought to feel the powerful draw between lifemates for himself, yet every moment in her company strengthened his emotions for her and the urgent needs of his body.

He knew, deep inside, a beast had been awakened by this one woman. Only she could set that part of him free. Only she could tame that wild part of his nature. He watched her fingers move through the fur of the wolves and knew he wanted those same fingers stroking his skin. He had kissed her in their shared dream and he could taste her in his mouth, on his tongue, filling his senses with the wild rain of her, the scent and taste of a new storm washing the forest clean.

Laughing, amazed that he was alive and with her, he reached for the change, let it take him, the wonderful wrenching of muscle and bone, the stretch of tendons and sinew as his body bent and changed, as his skin itched and then fur burst through, his own luxurious pelt of black and silver, the markings distinct. His muzzle was elongated, his mouth filled with teeth and the delicious sense of freedom. His paws were large and moved over the snow and ice easily as he circled around his mate, pushing playfully at her with his nose.

The pack instantly pushed up against him, eager for the run, tails up and swishing as they nudged their noses against Ivory, wanting her to hurry.

«Okay, okay, you monsters,» she acquiesced, laughing.

Through his wolf's eyes, Razvan watched her embrace the change, going to ground, the movement graceful and fast, so that one moment she was standing tall, elegant and beautiful, and in the next she was on all fours, a sleek, gorgeous wolf with a silvery coat. There was no mistaking her eyes; they glowed a soft amber as she looked at him, her mouth smiling.

The pack immediately went to her as they had done to him, lowering their bodies in submission. She rubbed her body along theirs, accepting their homage, and then the pack went crazy, leaping around playfully, wagging tails held high, bowing toward one another and then pouncing, rolling in the snow and coming up laughing.

Razvan felt Ivory's laughter and then she lifted her head to the moon and howled for the sheer elation of it. Laughing, he joined her, adding his voice, claiming the territory, letting the pack sing their joyful music. The wild notes rang through the trees, lifted to the stars and moon and then there was silence as Ivory lifted her nose to scent the wind.

She took off running, streaking through the trees with the pack close on her heels, and Razvan discovered the sheer enjoyment of running in the pack. The wolf's body was made for running, the slight webbing between the toes allowing him to race lightly and easily over the snow. Because the wolf walked on its toes, he found his weight was evenly distributed, making the body more efficient for running. Razvan loved the new form, reveling in the way his muscles stretched and contracted as he loped along, covering large amounts of ground, easily springing over fallen logs.

All the while he ran, and the pack left evidence of their passing through the glands on their feet, marking the trail for one another and warning others away. At first Ivory set a fast pace, running flat out, letting the pack feel their bodies again, the flow of muscle, the wealth of information, the sound of the forest. He could hear the water trickling below the ice and the way the needles rustled in the snow-laden branches overhead as the wind blew just hard enough to send the limbs swaying.

The scent of rabbit and fox was heavy, as well as that of an abundance of other forest creatures, all shivering in silence as the pack passed through their territories. Ivory swerved left, away from the Carpathian village toward the caves and sacred places the Carpathians used in their rituals. She didn't want her pack to run into any local wolves. As a rule she kept an uneasy truce between her pack and any others they encountered, but for now they were exercising their freedom and deserved to go unscathed through any territory they chose.

She was proud of them for their roles in saving the farmer and his family; at least, she hoped the little girl was still alive. No one had told her one way or the other, although she could understand why. They had all been amazed at the volume of minerals and elements the earth had encased her and Razvan in, a primordial mixture of everything needed to revitalize and repair them. The earth had done so centuries earlier for her alone, without the healing aid or blood of the Carpathians. It had been a struggle to find enough blood to maintain life.

She had been nearly insane those long years, merely existing without thought for anything but survival and, in the intervening years, she had accepted her solitary life. Now, Razvan ran beside her, his shoulder occasionally brushing hers, his heart beating in rhythm with hers. Every step through the snow, winding through the trees, fording a small, still-unfrozen river and skirting ice edgings was so much more fun.

I forgot about fun.

And there was that. Mind to mind. She wasn't alone anymore and never would be again. Once Razvan had bound them together she had merged her soul with his, her body with his, mind and heart, until they were literally one in spirit. He had experienced her life, just as she had experienced his. There was nothing they could hide from one another. She didn't know which was worse, the psychological damage Xavier had inflicted on Razvan or the torture. Once his aunts had turned him, she was certain that as a Carpathian male, the worst would have been being used to breed children for Xavier to consume. And also betraying his sister, desperate to send her warnings, only to have Xavier corrupt each message until the mage had nearly trapped her.

As she loped across a field of white, Ivory moved closer to him, wanting to experience his first time as a wolf, wanting to be the one to give him joyful memories to ease the worst of his experiences. He stretched his neck and ran it along hers as he moved, and she felt him move in her mind, surrounding her will with warmth.

I am having the time of my life. I have never had such fun. I am not certain I would have known how to have fun without you showing me. I suppose one needs to have a companion to share this kind of adventure with to really savor it.

She liked the way he thought. Mostly she just liked his company. They played hide-and-seek in the trees and covered each other in snow. At one point Raja initiated a strange game of dog pile and Razvan seemed to be the one the wolves all leapt on, rolling in the snow and down an embankment, with Ivory laughing at him.

Razvan surged to his feet, reveling in the wolf's strength, shaking his body to loosen the snow clinging to his black undercoat and the silver tips of his fur. Ivory leapt from the bank and hit him with her shoulder, sending them both tumbling back down the slope, rolling so that the ice crystals clung to their fur. When they rose, they looked like two wolves carved of snow.

Razvan rubbed his body along Ivory's, helping to get the snow off before turning and directing the pack back toward the Carpathian homes scattered throughout the forest. It was an amazing feeling to have the entire pack follow him. Ivory was just two or three paces behind, all of them trotting in ground-eating silence. The wind was in his face, the night air singing to him, smaller animals scurrying away to safety as he led the wolves through the forest, giving the pack their due, knowing who ruled there in that moment.

Both Ivory and Razvan needed to feed before they went to their lair, and he was eager to go, to get out of Carpathian territory. It was one thing to «see» his sister and daughter from a distance, to be told he might have a second and third daughter he knew nothing about. But to face them and watch them judge him-that was much more difficult.

It matters little to us, Razvan. I know who you are. And I know what is in your heart and soul. If they choose to look at you with suspicion . . .

As they should, he reminded gently, hearing the protective note in her voice. But it warmed him that she did know his heart and soul. She knew him better than anyone else, and if he was strictly honest, he had to admit that having one person in the world know what his life had been, what his sacrifices were, mattered.

You are a miracle, Ivory. It is good to know there is one person who holds my true life in her memories. Why did it matter so much now, when he had accepted for so long that he was branded traitor, criminal, most despised and despicable Carpathian on the face of the earth. Just the thought that Ivory might believe he had bred children for the sole purpose of using their blood to feed his longevity made him ill.

Do not, Razvan. I have shared all of your life, even the most hazy of your memories. Whatever your body was directed to do, it was not your spirit, the essence of who you are, that allowed it to happen.

He had to concede she was right. But my choices led to him using my body.

I have come to believe that fate hands us our destiny. Maybe I needed to endure the things in my life to be worthy of traveling by your side. Maybe you needed to endure your life in order to fulfill a great destiny. What we did shaped us and honed us into what we are now.

And what she was-was everything. He turned his face from hers, hiding his eyes as he continued up the trail leading to the prince's home. There was so much emotion in him for her that he didn't dare let her see, afraid of scaring her. She was so fragile when it came to accepting actual love. He tasted the word on his tongue, found it belonged in his heart. Yes, he was in love with his lifemate, and the emotion grew stronger with every minute spent in her company.

Razvan lifted his head and sent a questing call to the prince, announcing the presence of the pack. He knew Raven, the prince's lifemate, was pregnant and close to delivery. The entire Carpathian people anticipated the event and, no doubt, so did Xavier. That alone would make some of them suspicious about the timing of Razvan's appearance. It was best if they paid their respects and left as quickly and as quietly as possible.

Do you think Xavier will make a move against the prince's child?

I have no doubt, especially if the child is male. Razvan considered it carefully. He will have to make his move. He hates the Dubrinsky family above all else. They represent the power of an immortal race.

We can be killed, Ivory pointed out. As such we are not truly immortal.

When Xavier looks in the mirror, his flesh is rotting off the bone, and he looks at you, what do you think he wants? He stays alive now only by the blood of others, and yet every day he is slipping more and more. The blood cannot change his rotting brain. His entire life he has fought to defeat that family. He must do so now.

Then we must be ready for him. This might be our chance, Razvan, but we will need time to prepare for the battle. There was not so much eagerness as purpose in Ivory's voice.

That is probably why the master vampire was in the area. He searches for Xavier.

She drew in her breath sharply, skidding to a halt there in the deep forest. Razvan stopped immediately and turned back to her, shifting to his normal form. She followed his example, unknowing that her face was as pale as the snow beneath their feet.

«What is it?»

His voice was gentle. His eyes were gentle. Everything about him was, except for his strength, that deep, abiding, relentless strength that meant he would never stop. He didn't put his arm around her to comfort her-she would have pulled away. He simply put one hand on her shoulder and looked her straight in the eye, questioning. Not once did he invade to demand an answer. He stood there, simply looking at her, waiting for her to confide in him. She found him irresistible.

«As you know, Sergey was my brother. Long ago, in another time, he was my brother, yet he joined our greatest enemy. The very man who had me torn apart. He became the very thing that Xavier used to chop me into pieces and scatter me to the wolves. They laughed, Razvan. I can still hear them sometimes when I first awaken from beneath the soil. I tell myself he is not my brother, but it was my brother who made this choice. He wanted to become vampire. He chose to go into league with Xavier. He did these things not to avenge me, but for power. Because my brothers believed the Carpathian people should follow them. They want power.»

She didn't want that knowledge to hurt anymore. She wasn't that same naive young woman who adored her brothers and believed the best of everyone. She knew Prince Vlad had sent her to Xavier's school, not to help her but to get her out of his son's sight. She looked at Razvan, unaware of the tears in her eyes. «It still hurts.»

This time he did pull her close in that same gentle, slow way. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her face into his shoulder and just stood, silently offering her comfort. She thought his compassion might diminish her somehow, but it only filled her with warmth and steadied her as nothing else could. She wasn't that young girl anymore, but she wasn't alone either. She had Razvan, and somehow he fit her like a second skin.

«I am all right,» she whispered, pressing a kiss along his neck. The blood pounded there, calling to her. Her body stirred restlessly and she felt the instant answering heat of his. «It was a momentary weakness, passed now.»

«Not weakness, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso-beloved. You are supposed to feel whatever you can. Regret, sorrow, pain, even betrayal. There is reason for sadness in that, for the loss of a loved one. Grief. You do not dwell on these things, but you must feel them. It is part of life.»

She sent him a small smile, pressed one last kiss against his neck just to feel his warmth and take in his masculine scent. She stood there, her body leaning into his, her face buried against his throat, and she knew she could face anything with him. «We certainly can say all those things have been part of our lives,» she agreed, forcing a briskness into her voice to cover the emotion that threatened to spill over as she stepped away from him.

His fingers curled around her arm, slid down to her wrist and remained there like a bracelet. She couldn't look at him, not when her heart was so full. She felt silly and shy and out of her comfort zone. No one had touched her with such disarming tenderness. No one looked at her with such desire or love. She could only handle so much attention after being alone for centuries.

He cupped her chin in his palm and forced her head up, waiting until her long lashes lifted the veil over her eyes and their gazes locked together. She felt the rush of heat, like a drug pouring through her veins.

«You are a very dangerous man, Dragonseeker,» she whispered.

His slow smile set off a burn, low and sinfully wicked.

«That is just as well, warrior woman, as you are the most dangerous woman I know.» There was gentle amusement in his voice. And pure velvet heat.

He leaned his head down toward hers, taking his time in that slow, measured way he had. The way she knew he would stroke her skin. The way he touched her with the pads of his fingers, so light, but savoring, a slow burn that spread until the fire raged out of control, refusing to be dampened or extinguished.

She could feel her body tightening. Her breasts aching. Her womb spasming. His breath was warm and male. She couldn't close her eyes. She watched his face change as he came closer and closer to her. The way he looked, those worn lines softening, the wonder on his face and the building hunger in his eyes. She could see his long lashes, thick and full, the only really feminine thing about him, when his body was all hard muscle and strong, broad bones.

His breath took hers. Exchanged. He breathed for her. In her. He took her over, with that same slow, measured stroke of his mind. And then his lips were on hers and a heat wave rushed over her. White lightning streaked in her veins, electricity sizzled and snapped over her skin until she was lost, drowning in the pure fire of his kiss.

Ivory didn't know how it happened, but she found herself with her arms circling his neck and her mouth fused to his, her body pressing close. She felt a shudder run through his body, and hers trembled in answer. She wanted to stay there, just like that, in that perfect moment, with happiness and hunger singing through her veins. She tried to quench the desire rising like a tidal wave, swamping her, but there was no way to stop the rising need.

His lips left hers and trailed seductively from the corner of her mouth to her chin, to her throat; a burning fire at the swell of her breast. She felt the scrape of his teeth and she moaned, the sound breathy and a little desperate. His tongue swirled over the soft mound. Her breath caught in her throat. Another sound escaped. Her fingers fisted in his glorious hair as his teeth sank deep and the erotic pain burst into a swelling pleasure that spread through her body faster than lightning strikes to settle into a throbbing beat pulsing between her legs.

She wound one leg around his and cradled his head, trying not to cry at the pleasure crashing through her. He savored the taste of her like a fine wine, not gulping or tearing, but drawing the essence of her life and the exotic flavor of her into him slowly. His hands slid down her back and pressed her hips forward so that she could feel him hard and hot against her. Just as she thought she might drown completely, or sob and plead with him to complete their bonding, his tongue swept over the pinpricks.

His breathing was ragged, his eyes hot and a little wild. He simply tore his shirt open and pressed the back of her head with his hand. His fingers curled into a fist, bunching her silken braid, holding her against him, her mouth over the tempting sound of his heart. His blood ebbed and flowed, beckoning, a terrible temptation she couldn't resist.

She nuzzled against the heavy muscle of his chest, loving the feel of his strength and the depth of his response to her touch. With deliberate intent she stroked her tongue over his pounding pulse, wanting that Zen-like calm to go up in flames. She needed to know-absolutely know-that he not only wanted but needed her with the same growing intensity that she did him. She couldn't be alone in this desperate need.

His hand pressed her head closer, a silent command to take his offering. She did another slow swirl of her tongue just to hear that deep male groan, to feel the jump of his pulse and the hammering of his heart. She let the fire take her, sweeping up through her feminine channel to her belly and breasts, while her teeth lengthened and she drew the scent of him into her lungs.

He whispered something low and guttural, the sound more important to her than the words. His fingers were magical in her hair and against her scalp, the nape of her neck, and one hand swept over her buttocks, pressing tightly as he half lifted her. The strength in his body matched that of his will and she couldn't help the feminine thrill at the feeling of his hardness against her softness.

She took a breath, savoring the moment of exquisite lust wrapped with terrible love so sharp it pierced her heart. Then she sank her teeth into his body, connecting them in the way of lifemates. Richness spilled into her. Every cell soaked him up, took him inside. The taste of him burst against her tongue like fizzing bubbles.

Razvan gave another throaty moan, even sexier than the first one, the sound vibrating through her body, adding to the swirling mix of emotions welling up with her physical reaction to him. He moved her like no other could, getting under her skin and into her bones and now, the addictive taste of him nearly made her lose all perspective. She needed him, right there in the middle of nowhere with snow on the ground.

Not our first time. Our first time together I want to have hours with you, not a few minutes with our pack surrounding us and with danger at every turn.

Even his denying her was sexy. The velvet voice, the slow heat, the stark need he didn't try to hide from her. She let herself take one last taste and then she swept her tongue across the pinpricks and simply stood, letting his strength hold her up when her entire body was trembling.

«You are right,» she said with regret.

«We need to go home soon.» He whispered the words in her ear.

She liked the sound of that. More, she loved the husky note in his voice that told her he was every bit as shaken as she was. For an answer, she circled his neck with her arms and just held him, just absorbed him into her.

The pack grew restless, circling them and nudging at their legs in inquiry. Ivory found herself smiling. «The children are growing impatient, as children do.»

To her consternation his hand slid down to her abdomen and rested there, fingers splayed wide. «You will look so beautiful with our child in you, should we ever manage to destroy our enemy.»

Ivory had never considered the possibility of a child. Her entire life had been devoted to one thing-ridding the world of an evil monster. The idea that she might have a lifemate and a child, that she could someday live with a semblance of normalcy, shocked her. She wasn't entirely certain she could handle it.

Razvan laughed softly and leaned down to feather his lips lightly over hers. «Do not worry, my little warrior. There will never be normal for either of us, but we will make our own rules and our life will suit us just fine.»

«Let's get this done then,» Ivory said.

Mikhail Dubrinsky greeted Razvan and Ivory from his long, wraparound verandah. The house was large, nestled in the trees, blending into the forest so well that Ivory knew with a certainty that most people would never spot it unless the prince eased the safeguards around it. She was dressed in her warrior garb, with the wolves riding her body as tattoos. She preferred that to having him look too closely at her pack. Razvan stayed close to her, just a step behind, as if he was her guard, rather than her partner. She had tried twice to lag in her step to force him to walk beside her, but once Razvan made up his mind about something, nothing stopped him.

«Good evening,» Mikhail said. «Sivad olen wakeva, han ku piwta-may your heart stay strong, hunters,» he added in a more traditional greeting.

Ivory murmured a greeting, and glanced over her shoulder to look at Razvan. She couldn't feel nerves in him, or sense that he was in any way distressed over visiting the prince of the Carpathian people, yet he maintained his distance-that precise two steps to the side and behind her pace. His gaze moved restlessly over the house, the grounds, searched the trees and quartered every inch of their surroundings as if he was looking for a trap. His face was sober, mouth in a firm line. He was making her uneasy with the way he was acting, when they should have been safe so deep in Carpathian territory.

What is it? She sent a smile to the prince to cover the fact that Razvan had yet to speak.

I do not know, but he is not alone. We are surrounded.

Well, of course, she'd known there would be others. Gregori for certain would never allow a meeting with the prince and his lifemate without his presence. Now she was more than uneasy.

«You welcome us, yet your people seem to be circling into position,» Razvan said.

His voice was hard, harder than Ivory had ever heard him speak. Now she knew why he had dropped back. He expected an attack, not from the front but from behind or either side. He wore a look that told her he meant business, and suddenly their friendly visit wasn't so friendly after all. In that moment she knew he was entirely capable of killing the prince should the Carpathian make a move toward her.

She took a small step back and away from Razvan, moving quickly from woman to warrior. Her bow came up slightly, the arrow angled just enough to cover the prince's heart. «We thought only to thank you for your aid,» she said. «Nothing more. We will leave if we are not welcome.»

The prince stepped into the open area, away from the long, smooth railing out to where she would have a clear shot at him. He kept his hands out away from his sides. «You are most welcome. My lifemate is inside and wishes to meet you. She cannot get up to greet you properly and had hoped you would have the time to visit with her.»

He looked around the surrounding forest and sent out a call to the hunters surrounding his home. These are my guests and they are welcome. There was no mistaking the edge of anger in his voice. «Please, accept my apologies and come inside.»

Ivory glanced at Razvan. «It is up to you. If you do not feel welcome here, I have no wish to stay.» She did want news though. She needed news. If they were going to effectively hunt Xavier, they needed every detail the Carpathian people could provide.

Gregori came out onto the porch, his arms folded across his chest. «Every time I take my eyes off you, you make yourself a target,» he said to Mikhail with a small grin. He lifted his gaze to the Dragonseeker. «When the prince wishes you to visit and guarantees your safety, it is a great honor.»

Ivory's eyes flashed a single searing heat. «Only if one trusts the prince.»

«Do you?» Mikhail asked, his gaze holding hers steady. «Do you trust me?»

Ivory was silent a moment, studying his face. He was nothing like his brother. And little like his father. She took a breath and felt Razvan move inside her mind. Supporting her. Holding her steady when the past was too close. She felt the brush of Razvan's mind in hers, strong and enduring and totally for her. No one else. Razvan's loyalty was utterly hers and belonged to no one else.

«Yes.»

Mikhail stepped aside and gestured toward his front door with a slight bow. «Please enter my home as my honored guests.» His gaze slid over Razvan. «Both of you.»

Razvan moved up then, past Ivory, his senses flaring out to inspect the occupants of the house. There were two women and several men inside. He halted at the door and glanced toward Gregori.

«Do you think we would prepare a trap in the very home of the prince with his lifemate present?» Gregori hissed, his silver eyes slashing at Razvan.

Razvan didn't flinch under the reprimand. «Tell me you would not be wary of so many distrustful people. Tell me you would not protect your lifemate.» His tone was mild, but there was heat in his eyes. «I can feel their suspicion like a weight pressing down on both of us. We need only to give our thanks and leave. We ask for nothing from any of you.»

A woman with striped red and gold hair burst from the inside of the house, skidding to a halt just outside the door, ignoring the restraining hand of her lifemate, a tall, imposing warrior with steel eyes and a grim mouth. «Razvan. Please.»

Razvan blinked. Inside he crumbled. Went to pieces. His heart. His soul. For a moment his world narrowed to this one woman. The person he had given up everything for. His life. His soul. His sanity. Everything.

«Natalya.» He breathed her name, unsteady.

His vision blurred as he stood feeling naked and vulnerable in front of her. It was one thing to talk to her from a distance, in a dream world where he lay beneath the ground safe from the recrimination that must be in her heart. But to have her stand in front of him, his twin sister, the one Xavier had systematically fed false information to and had tricked into giving him spells using Razvan . . .

Ivory surged into his mind. Into his heart. I am with you.

Four words, but that show of unity meant everything to him. She meant it. Ivory stood with him, tall and straight, a warrior without comparison, utterly proud of him. Her fallen angel-her lifemate.

Natalya's eyes swam with tears. «Razvan, please don't leave.»

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat threatening to choke him. One hand came up of its own volition and touched that bright hair. Natalya flung herself into his arms, weeping. He closed his arms around her and held her to him, shocked that after so many years, after so much suffering, the bond between them had not been completely broken.

Ivory stayed in his mind, holding him just as close, easing the terrible weight of responsibility that poured into his mind. He had long ago dealt with and accepted his choices, but to see his sister standing alive and well, healthy and happy, was overwhelming.

He held her at arm's length and looked her over carefully. «You look good, Natalya. Young.» So young. He was her twin, yet he was so much older.

You have earned every wonderful line. Ivory slipped her hand into his when he dropped his arms away from his sister. His fingers tangled and clung.

«This is Vikirnoff, my lifemate.» Natalya rubbed the tall warrior's arm, the movement mesmerizing, as if she stroked a talisman that held her together.

And maybe, Razvan decided, that's what the man was doing. Ivory was certainly holding him together. «It is good she has you.» He meant it. Whatever Vikirnoff might think of him, he was obviously fiercely protective of Natalya. And if the man felt one tenth of what he felt for Ivory, Natalya was in good hands.

Razvan brought Ivory's hand to his chest. She didn't feel comfortable with displays of affection, yet she didn't pull away. She stood beside him, her warmth enveloping him, steadying him, while he pressed her palm over his rapidly beating heart. «This is Ivory-sivam es sielam-my heart and soul.» He brought her fingertips to his lips. «Ivory, my sister, Natalya, and her lifemate, Vikirnoff.»

It was amazing to him to be able to stand there, free, in Natalya's presence, unafraid that he was providing bait for a trap that Xavier had set. But more than anything he felt pride in the woman at his side. He felt that with her he had everything. She had somehow turned a bleak, hopeless life into moments of pure joy-such as this one.

«It is wonderful to finally meet you,» Ivory said. «Your brother speaks of you often. And thank you for aiding our wolf pack, as well as giving us blood when we were in such need.»

Ivory followed Natalya and Vikirnoff into the house. Power surged through her the moment she entered. She glanced at Razvan to see if he'd felt that strong ripple of energy. He nodded silently at her, obviously uncomfortable that Gregori was behind them.

Raja has our backs, she assured.

«It was an amazing feat for the wolves to carry four humans through such treacherous terrain with a vampire close on their heels,» Mikhail observed.

Ivory shot him a wary glance. «They are special. My family. Thank you for aiding them. Is the little girl still alive? We had no time to prep her for the journey. We had to send them out fast.»

«I saw the destruction at the farmhouse.» Mikhail went straight to the woman sitting in a large, stuffed chair, her feet resting on an ottoman. «My lifemate, Raven,» he said and there was a wealth of love in his voice. «Raven, Ivory and Razvan.»

«Thank you for coming,» Raven said. «I'm sorry I can't get up, but do please sit down.» She sent a quick glare at both her lifemate and Gregori. «It seems I'm being dictated to by both the healer and Mikhail.»

«And I so enjoy the opportunity,» Mikhail said, unrepentant.

Ivory and Razvan sat in two of the wide-backed chairs set in a circle. Mikhail sank onto the arm of Raven's chair and Gregori seated himself opposite Razvan, his restless eyes moving constantly to sweep the surrounding forest through the windows.

«I think you have enough guards out there,» Ivory said. «I counted seven. Did I miss any?»

«Guards?» Raven echoed, looking from the prince to the healer. «What guards?»

It was Natalya who answered. «My brother has been considered the enemy for so long, many, including me, thought him a traitor, and it is difficult for others to believe he isn't.»

«You are pregnant with the prince's son,» Gregori pointed out gently. «Many think it is a suspicious coincidence that he has arrived when you are close to giving birth.»

«But Mikhail would never invite anyone into our home he was not certain of,» Raven said. «That's utterly ridiculous.»

«And they are suspicious of me as well,» Ivory pointed out, unwilling to let the prince get off too easily. «Because I am a Malinov.»

«Long thought dead these past centuries,» Gregori said. «Yes, some are suspicious, but I have been in your mind, healing you and Razvan. I know what you went through to save the farmer and his family.»

«Tell me about the child,» Ivory persisted.

«She lives and is well,» Gregori assured. «Falcon and Sara took the family in until the child was healed. They are living at the inn now, and we will help them get started again. Just about everything they had was destroyed. Fortunately, the vampire didn't kill all of the animals, as often happens. You must have come along and interrupted him before he could do too much damage to the farm.»

«Have you erased their memories?» Ivory asked.

Mikhail leaned forward, frowning. «The parents were easy enough, but the children still have nightmares. Gregori is working to help them. Some are more resistant than others. I'd like you to tell me about your wolves.»

Ivory stayed very still. Razvan was just as still inside as she was, sensing this was no idle question. «I made a promise to the wolf pack that helped me and I have always kept it. The summer the pups were born, game was plentiful and it had been a mild winter. The pack had two litters of pups, which sometimes happens in a good year. I helped with the hunting, so my pack was well fed and the alpha pair and the next in the hierarchy mated. The vampires hunted my pack and destroyed them, hoping to find me running amongst them.»

Her hand trembled in her lap and Razvan laid his over it, his thumb sliding back and forth in a soothing gesture. Ivory didn't look at him, but she opened her mind to his and let him comfort her where no one else could see. It had been one of the worst moments she could remember, finding the pack dead and dying.

«The pups are all that remain of my original pack. They were badly hurt, but I was not entirely»-she searched for the right word-«sane . . . in those days. I could still barely stand the moonlight and spent most of the hours beneath the ground. I needed the pack for my own survival. I couldn't let them go, and I crawled into the den with them and gave them my blood repeatedly. Sometimes I had no choice but to take their blood. It was a long time-weeks, I do not really remember-before the first turned.»

She remembered that moment, the animal screaming in pain, and her shock at what she'd done. «I was careful to make certain they learned to hunt only with me. I feed them and care for them. They do not breed.» She lifted her head and looked the prince straight in the eye. «They are my family. We have hunted the vampire for centuries and they have saved my life countless times.» She conveyed in that one brooding look exactly what she meant-that she would fight to the death for her pack.

«You can see how they could be troublesome if they began to prey on the human race for food,» Gregori said.

She flicked him a cool glance. «No more than when one of us does. We would have no choice but to hunt the wolf and destroy it.»

Mikhail held up his hand. «We just needed to know, Ivory. The pack is most unusual, but you seem to have it all well in hand.»

Razvan stirred. «It grows late and we have not fed. The pack is fine, but we must hunt before we return home.»

He savored the word home. Let it roll off his tongue. The confines of this house were too stifling. He couldn't really remember when he had been in a home, certainly not with so many other people with all eyes on them. Ivory was hiding it well, but she was equally uncomfortable. Neither of them was good at social skills, having been alone for so many years.

«We can feed both of you,» Mikhail said. «I really brought you here for a purpose.»

Ivory settled back in her seat, but Razvan noticed that her fingers circled her crossbow, and he felt the ripple of awareness in the wolves. «Of course you did.»

Mikhail smiled easily. «Our children are dying before they are born, Ivory. I have no time to waste on the niceties. Our greatest minds have tried to find solutions to the problem and finally, recently, we had a breakthrough. We discovered the source of our miscarriages is Xavier. He mutated extremophiles, microbes that attack our unborn children. The microbes are in the soil. Even should we move locations, and of course we considered that, he can contaminate soil anywhere we go. We have to stop him.»

«That is our goal,» Ivory said.

«Gregori informed me he believes both of you are set on destroying Xavier. He believes if anyone can do so, you two have the best chance. I have a great deal of faith in Gregori, as well as in my own instincts. We would like to aid you in any way possible.»

«No,» Natalya interrupted. «No, Razvan.» She shook off Vikirnoff and stood, hands on her hips. «I've just got you back. You can't go near that man. Not for any reason. You know he's hunting you. You know he is.»

Razvan sighed. When she was a child he had never liked it when Natalya was upset, and it was equally bad now that she was a fully grown adult. «I know him better than any other, Natalya,» he said, his voice gentle.

«Ivory has studied him and has actually worked with him at one time in his school. She is good with his spells, turning them around. Mikhail is right in that Ivory and I have a better chance of stopping him than any other we know of.»

«But it isn't right. You've suffered enough.» What she really meant was she'd given him up for years, and it wasn't right for either of them. She wanted him back.

Vikirnoff held out his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it, leaning back against him, obviously trying not to cry.

«Ivory's and Razvan's great sacrifice may be the very thing that saves our people,» Mikhail said. «Both knew our enemy in the years we thought him dead. We have only Lara to keep the unborn children alive, and she cannot continue forever. We have four women-Syndil; you, Natalya; Lara and Skyler-who can cleanse the earth. Our species is very fragile right now. Should we manage to remove the threat of Xavier, we still will be fighting the odds to continue. We need Razvan and Ivory. We need every warrior we have to fight in any capacity they can.»

«I do not understand what you mean about these extremophiles,» Ivory said, frowning. «Before, when we were beneath the ground, I caught images of these things in your minds, but I do not understand exactly what these things are used for. Xavier has bred parasites to enhance the vampire's communication as well as to identify his allies. What do these microbes do?»

«They are in the soil and enter the male's body while he rests,» Gregori answered. «During sex he transfers the mutated microbes to the woman, who then transfers it to her unborn child. It is a vicious circle we cannot seem to stop.»

«And you are very certain Xavier is the source?» Ivory asked.

It was Razvan who answered. «I witnessed his experiments, all of them. I was present when he cast his evil spells, twisting and corrupting nature for his own dark purpose. He had pools of blood and liquid poison.»

Ivory's head came up as if scenting a fresh trail. «You actually heard his spell? He let you? You were there with him?» She tried to quell the exhilaration bursting through her.

«I told you I am not good with spells. That was why he wanted Natalya. She is.»

Natalya started to interrupt, to say something, but Mikhail silenced her. Let them speak together. He could see-feel, even-that Ivory was suddenly excited.

«But you have an extraordinary memory,» Ivory pointed out. «I have seen it, and you do not forget the smallest detail.» She looked to Gregori for confirmation, knowing the healer had spent a great deal of time in Razvan's mind. «We have talked about this, Razvan. If you can remember the precise, exact words of his spells, I am certain that I can unravel them. He used apprentices for the base of most of his spells, and then when they were getting too good at what they did, he got rid of them, because he feared them.»

Razvan's hand moved against hers, stroking over her wrist, over the thin white line where a cut had been. I have said I can remember, and yes, I recall even this one, but the remembering will not be easy. He didn't want to relive those days of torture, the sounds of screaming, helpless victims, of women he couldn't help, of his own role, whether knowing or not. If it is your wish, I will do so, he said.

Ivory touched his mind and found that same serene peace in him, the calm of complete acceptance. If she asked him to go back in his memories, she knew he would without hesitation, and love for him shimmered in her heart. Her pride in him rose in her soul. No matter what the others saw when they looked at his worn face, she would always see a hero.

«If you had the spell he used, could you take command of these extremophiles?» Mikhail asked Ivory.

«I might be able to, with enough time. I would have to study the spell. Xavier likes complex spells. And he would need a very complex one for the killing of an entire species and the mutating of another.» Ivory shrugged. «I have no idea how long it would take, but so far, when I have studied one of his spells, I have been able to reverse it.» Her chin lifted. «I was a very good student.»

Now Razvan's thumb pressed into the sensitive skin of her wrist, stroking a caress over her jumping pulse.

«If we have to move from the mountains, we will do so,» Mikhail said, «but I doubt if that will solve the problem. Eventually it will spread across our country into other lands. It would be far better if we could eradicate it.»

Ivory nodded. «Xavier will make his move against you very soon.» She looked at Raven. «You already have a daughter and now, with a son, he cannot afford to let you or your children live. He will come after her.»

Mikhail slipped a comforting arm around Raven's shoulders. «We are prepared.»

«Is that why your warriors surround this house?» Razvan asked.

Mikhail nodded. «We are all uneasy. The attacks are becoming frequent, picking us apart, one by one, going after the children during the day, using their puppets. They wear us down. It was a shock to have the two of you show up. And, of course, as mentioned earlier, the timing is highly suspicious.»

«But not to you?» Again Ivory met his gaze. Steady. Challenging.

He sent her a small smile. «The weight of my people has been on my shoulders a long time, Ivory. I do not have my father's gifts, but I have good instincts. I have to trust them. Few things are certain in this world. I choose to go with my instincts about the two of you and with Gregori's opinion. The combination has rarely failed.»

Gregori gave an inelegant snort. «Never, you mean. I do not make mistakes when it comes to your safety.»

«I do believe Razvan managed to hold a knife to my throat with you not twenty feet away,» Mikhail pointed out with amusement.

Ivory realized the relationship between the two men was one of close-knit friendship and camaraderie.

«I paid him a great deal of money to do that,» Gregori said. «I wanted you to realize, as our prince, you shouldn't be chasing vampires all over the country and Razvan agreed to help teach you a lesson.»

Raven laughed. «You two are impossible. I can feel our guests' hunger. Perhaps you should do something about that so we can visit,» she suggested.

«We are capable of hunting,» Ivory said, trying not to sound stiff. It was one thing to take blood when she was helpless, something altogether different when she was fit. She was a warrior, not a child.

«There is no need,» Mikhail said. «I offer my blood freely.»

The prince smiled at her. Easy. Friendly. Making her stomach knot up. She didn't have friends. She didn't know how to have them. What did he want from her? What was he expecting? The room felt too small. She could barely breathe the air.

It matters little what they want from us, Razvan reassured. We need nothing from them-they need us. Anything we choose to do is our decision. We have no sworn loyalty to this man. We are set on a path and we will continue down it. There is no harm in listening to him. His blood is pure and carries more power than any other. If you do not wish to feed from him, I will do so and feed you later.

She heard the cool resolve in his voice and her stomach settled. She had stayed alive by being aware of everything around her, of avoiding others and taking great care to put herself in the most advantageous position should she need to fight. Razvan was doing the same.

Ivory had carefully chosen the chair they were seated in so that no one could slip up behind them or get too close from either side. Raven and the prince were quite vulnerable right in front of her. She knew the prince had deliberately seated himself in a position of weakness to take the edge off her sharply honed wariness of such situations and, while she appreciated it, she still wanted to leave.

It was difficult to maintain composure when too many hearts beat, the sound of blood roared through veins, emotions seemed too raw around her. When she'd been alone for so long, being crowded into a room-albeit a spacious one-still was uncomfortable. She forced a smile at the prince, inclining her head like a princess. «We thank you for your generous offer.»

It was Razvan, more than her, who was uncomfortable with the feeding process. He didn't like taking blood from a wrist, and she felt his instant aversion to the idea when the prince so casually offered his wrist. She took the blood without hesitation, willing to draw attention away from Razvan.

«I offer you my blood, Razvan,» Natalya said into the silence. «I wouldn't mind experiencing the bonding process with you all over again.»

Razvan went absolutely, utterly still. Ivory felt his instant rejection, his complete withdrawal. His skin went to a pale white, almost transparent, and the lines in his face deepened.

«I am not the prince, but as your sister, I offer to you freely.»

Every muscle in his body tensed, although he looked as calm and serene as ever. He simply stood and glided away from Natalya, putting distance between them though a slight smile softened his mouth and his eyes were sad. He inclined his head toward her in a gesture of respect.

«You honor me, little sister, but I cannot accept such a gift.»

His stomach churned and bile rose. Ivory slid her tongue over Mikhail's wrist to close the wound and straightened slowly. Razvan looked calm, but she could feel the tension mounting in him.

Gregori frowned. He had given a tremendous amount of blood to Razvan over the past few weeks and had been inside his mind and memories. He sensed the usually serene man was distressed. He rose and walked over to Razvan, blocking the others' sight of him. «It is best for him, Natalya, to take a healer's blood. He is better, but not completely well. His bones must knit stronger than ever.»

Razvan said nothing. He didn't trust himself to speak. He simply accepted the healer's offer, grateful the others couldn't witness his shaking hands.

I am with you. You are not a monster, tearing into someone's flesh to get blood. Ivory kept her voice low and steady, reaching to surround him with her presence.

Razvan made no reply, but he did allow her to slip seamlessly into his mind to see the images swirling in chaos. For a moment horror gripped her, as it did him-as it did Gregori-as they shared the sight of a child's wrist being torn into by sharp teeth.

«Xavier has much to answer for,» Gregori said quietly.

Razvan again said nothing, but the understanding went a long way toward settling the knots that had pulled tighter and tighter in his stomach. He closed the pinpricks on the healer's wrist and gave him a slight bow of appreciation. Gregori ignored his formality and clapped him on the back.

«It isn't as if we do not know each other,» Gregori said.

«Mikhail.» Raven's voice was thoughtful. «Have you noticed the resemblance in Syndil and Ivory? They could be sisters.»

«I do not have a sister,» Ivory assured her. «I had five brothers.»

«But you do look alike,» Mikhail agreed. «And you have a special affinity with the earth, as Syndil does. She's an extraordinary woman. You will want to meet her.»

She was not going to get sucked into the Carpathian community. She could barely function here, unsure of herself, not at all confident, as if everything was off-kilter.

I feel the same. Razvan's voice was gentle in her mind.

What is wrong with us when they are being so kind and welcoming?

We have been too long away from others, he reassured her. Too long in our own company. We need the open spaces and the quiet of our own lair.

She was desperate now to end this meeting and go home, but there was something on Mikhail's mind and he wasn't going to let her leave until he told her.

Razvan took her hand. Both were standing now, the first step toward a graceful exit. Before Ivory could make her excuses, Mikhail spoke again.

«Some time ago, Natalya came to us, to these mountains, to look for answers. Her father stole a book.»

Razvan drew in his breath sharply, his fingers tightening with sudden strength around Ivory's. «Our father died for that book. Xavier's master spell book. Xavier sealed the book in the blood of each species. Mage. Carpathian. Lycan. Jaguar and human.»

«There was no Lycan blood present,» Natalya said. «I saw the vision on my quest to find the book. It was sealed with the blood of the three and must be opened with the blood of the three.» She looked to her lifemate. Vikirnoff, why would he lie about this? You saw the vision as I did. Xavier poured the blood of the three. Why would Razvan insist that there were others?

I do not know. But Natalya heard the suspicion in Vikirnoff's voice.

«He murdered a woman from each species and sealed the book,» Razvan said. «I saw him. Whether you choose to believe me or not, is up to you.»

Mikhail paced across the room. «Lycans hide better than any other species. Their blood is powerful and different. Xavier would have known that. He studied blood and he would never have left them alone. Lycan blood might hide itself, but not human blood.»

«Then what happened to the Lycan blood?» Natalya asked. Suspicion crept into her voice in spite of herself. «I saw Xavier perform the ritual.»

Ivory flicked her a quick glance and shrugged. «It is probably there, hidden. A secret to help in the protection of the book. If Xavier knew the properties of the Lycan blood, he would know it might hide from others. He could rely on that to keep his book from being opened and used. As for the human blood, Xavier would have no problem hiding anything if he so desired. As for your vision, it is possible he prepared for someone to access it. Xavier put safeguards on everything he did.»

Natalya shook her head. She had gone through a horrendous ordeal to recover the book, including watching the death of her father.

«You actually held the book in your hands?» Razvan asked his sister. «You found it?»

She nodded. «Our father left me a message, a way to find it. I brought it to Mikhail.»

«I want you to take the book, Ivory,» Mikhail said. «No one knows where your lair is. No one has had any idea of your presence for these long years, yet you cannot be that far from our territory. The book must remain hidden and away from Xavier. I entrust you with the book and any knowledge you may gain from having it in your possession.»

A gasp went around the room. Even Natalya shook her head. Vikirnoff actually stepped forward aggressively.

«The book was entrusted to you, Mikhail,» he objected. «No one else. Forgive me, Razvan, but someone must have a clear head in this matter.» Vikirnoff swept his hand toward Ivory. «This woman's lifemate was possessed by Xavier for years. He's been used by Xavier to spy, to trick, to lie and to cause great harm. How do we know he is not tricking all of us even now? Would you take a book so dangerous and put it into the very hands of the man who spent several lifetimes with him? We just met this man.» He looked at Gregori. «We have no choice but to take this to the council.»

Mikhail drew himself up to his full height. In that moment, he took Ivory's breath away. Power surged in the room, enough that the walls expanded and contracted and there was a shiver of movement beneath their feet. Even his hair crackled with energy.

«I do not ask the advice of the warriors' council, nor do I need to. If you cannot be civil to a guest in my home, then you may leave.»

He didn't yell or shout. In fact, his voice was pitched low, but it carried enough weight to take someone down instantly.

Vikirnoff opened his mouth and then closed it, swift impatience crossing his face. «I go on record stating that this is a poor idea and the decision to hand over the book should wait. Until we know these two better, we cannot trust them.»

Natalya stood, torn between believing in her brother, and remembering the numerous times it was her brother who had tricked her into giving him information Xavier needed. She shook her head and followed Vikirnoff out of the house.

I am sorry she hurt you, Ivory said, trying to comfort Razvan.

She has reason to worry, Razvan replied gently. Do not be upset on my behalf.

«They should have asked if I wanted the book,» Ivory said. «I do not. But I thank you for your confidence in us.» Of course I am upset on your behalf. She hurt you whether you acknowledge it or not and you do not deserve that.

«The book may be of some use to you as you try to find a way to reverse Xavier's spell on the extremophiles,» Mikhail said, seemingly unaware that they carried on a private conversation, although Ivory was fairly certain he knew.

Do not blame her, Ivory. She was put through so much over the years. Alone and frightened, with Xavier constantly on her heels. For my sake, do not blame her.

Ivory sighed. She would do anything for Razvan right then. If forgiving his sister and her lifemate meant so much to him, then she would oblige. She sent Razvan a small smile before turning her complete attention to the prince.

«I cannot undo the extremophiles mutated state, although I might be able to redirect them,» Ivory told him. «But that book will not help. The book is one for twisted spells and is so dangerous, any wielder trying to use it, including Xavier, will only become as corrupt and twisted as the book itself.»

Razvan took her hand, loving her all the more for her support of him. «She is right, Mikhail. It is a work of evil. The blood sealing the book was the blood of the women he killed. In death he sealed it. And in death it would have to be reopened. Destroy it, though it will not be easy. Never let anyone touch it but you, and destroy it as soon as you can figure out how. You cannot risk the contamination.»

«He would have put other safeguards on it as well,» Ivory added.

«You are certain this is the best course with the book?» Mikhail asked. «If the book has information containing Xavier's spell to kill our children . . .»

«I know it is logical to think you might use the book to reverse it, but that book is nearly as great an enemy to you as Xavier himself. Should that book end up in the hands of one of my fallen brothers, you will know war such as you have never seen,» Ivory said. «Destroy it.» She sighed heavily. «It will not be an easy task, and one I suspect you will not be able to do alone. Look to Razvan's aunts. I know they still sleep, but when they awaken, put the matter before them.»

«How do we reverse Xavier's spells if we cannot use the book?» Raven asked.

«Razvan will remember the high mage's spells and I will document them,» Ivory replied. «In that way we can have a safe record. As long as Razvan lives and remembers, we can probably re-create the entire book without the corruption.»

«You believe you can do this?» Raven asked. She pressed both hands protectively over her unborn child.

«I wish to have children some day,» Ivory said, although, truthfully, she didn't believe she would survive the coming battle. «I will do this, no matter how long it takes.»

The night welcomed them, the wide-open spaces, the sky heavy now with new clouds. Ivory inhaled deeply, drawing the night air into her lungs, and laughed just for the sheer joy of being outside where she felt alive. Where she could breathe.

«Let's never do that again,» she said.

Razvan grinned at her. «Good idea. You were the one with the good manners, insisting we thank everyone.» He stretched his arms to the gray clouds and inhaled. «I do believe it is going to snow on us.»

«Shall we take the children and go home?» she asked, her slow grin matching his.

«Are we flying? Running?» He arched a brow at her.

Ivory took a slow, careful look around her. «I think we will walk for now.»

Razvan sent his senses flaring out into the night, trying to pick up on what she felt. He didn't doubt that some of the Carpathian hunters might follow them to make certain they were not meeting with Xavier and reporting everything they had spoken of.

«They think I am a spy,» he said. «Does it bother you?»

«Actually,» Ivory corrected, «they think we are both spies.» She sent him an amused grin. «I have spent more than one human lifetime thinking of the Carpathian people as betrayers, and yet they think me the spy.»

«Because you are with me,» he pointed out. «If you like, when you wish to visit or speak with them to gather information, it will not hurt me to have you go into the village alone. I can spend the time with the pack on the outskirts, waiting for you.»

She shook her head. «It is not simply because of you. I am a Malinov. I cannot blame them. The timing is very suspicious. I would be suspicious.» But she wasn't happy with his sister. Natalya should have believed in him. She was afraid to believe, more than she disbelieved. Ivory didn't voice her opinion because Razvan simply accepted his sister's suspicions as he did most things, but if she had an opportunity, she might just have a word with the woman.

Razvan laughed out loud and enveloped her hand with his. «I am still in your mind.»

She blushed, realizing she was still in his as well. «It feels so natural. I did not mean for you to hear that.»

«I do not mind you wanting to stick up for me, but truly, Ivory, it is not necessary. I have learned to live without Natalya's admiration these long years. I do worry for my daughter, Lara. I hope we can alleviate her problems by eliminating Xavier, but I have no wish to disrupt her life or Natalya's, or even the aunts'. I am fine the way I am. Happy the way I am.»

He tucked her hand against his chest as they walked, bringing them close together. «Lara did not come to see me, which you and I both know means that she was not ready to face me. I am uncomfortable in the presence of so many. Emotions, which I am unused to, can be difficult. I need peace in my mind, and with the combination of their doubt and guilt pressing on me, I found myself having to work at keeping my mind calm, which hasn't happened in more years than I care to count.»

«They are fools, Razvan, not to understand what you suffered for them. For all of the Carpathian people.»

«My aunts will tell them once they emerge from the healing ground. They were kept too long starving and Gregori has long been trying to aid them to recovery,» Razvan said. «When we shared minds, I could see them very clearly.» He smiled, and this time his eyes held affection. «I observed them as women, as he saw them, not in the form of dragons as they were held captive. It was . . . astounding.»

Ivory walked through the snow, swinging hands with him, wishing she'd paid more attention to the various people in Gregori's mind. If they hadn't pertained to battle or seemed significant to her, she had tried to be careful of his privacy. Now, she could scarcely recall the two women who had saved Razvan's life by turning him fully Carpathian. They had Rhiannon's blood flowing in their veins-Razvan's grandmother. Rhiannon had come from such a powerful Carpathian line.

«Dragonseeker,» she murmured aloud. «How often that name was whispered in awe and respect. You carry that line and you stayed true to it.»

The first flakes began to fall. Small crystals of enormous beauty. Razvan watched them as they walked, their tracks light and then, when Ivory wished it, nonexistent. They still left their scent behind, making certain that anyone who might wish to track them would see the wide curve of a new direction.

Razvan walked along beside her, feeling content, occasionally scooping snow into his hand and packing it to form a ball just to throw it at a tree trunk as they passed. It made him feel a bit like a kid again, carefree and happy, just as much as when he'd run with the wolves.

«You take every moment,» Ivory said, «and you live it right then.»

He shrugged. «I found that in order to survive I had to live in the moment. I do whatever I am doing with everything in me. I enjoy it, or endure it or survive it.» He looked around at the drifting snow and the heavily laden trees with their crystal formations. «This is paradise to me.»

«Walking through the forest in the snow, hoping to throw off anyone tracking us?» She laughed, shaking her head. «You really are a little bit peculiar. I like it, but you are still weird.»

Razvan's laugh was joyous, the sound deep and pure, sliding into her body and making her heart sing. It made her feel like a bit of an idiot, but she didn't care; she kept the silly smile on her face anyway.

«We have everything we could possibly want right here in this moment. You. Me. The pack. Look around you. The snow is beautiful, the trees unbelievable. We are happy. Whatever comes later, we have these moments right now. Right here. We may as well make the best of them because we will never get these moments back.»

He lobbed a snowball at her. It landed in her hair and broke, covering the blue-black strands with flakes. He sprinted away from her.

Ivory gasped and went after him scooping up snow on the run, packing and throwing with the tremendous speed and accuracy born of throwing her arrowheads.

Razvan dodged, looking over his shoulder at her, laughing. She was so beautiful to him, running in the snow with her long strides, her muscles rippling beneath the smooth expanse of skin. Just the way she moved was pure sin. Her eyes were enormous with excitement. Crystal flakes landed on her lashes and she batted the two thick crescents to get the snow off. The gesture was feminine, sexy beyond measure yet totally unintentional.

He took advantage and reversed direction, running at her fast, hurling three snowballs to distract her, uncaring where they hit, watching her mouth, that beautiful bow of a mouth, curved and soft and so tempting. He dropped his shoulder and caught her low, lifting her and taking her down in one smooth move.

They landed in the snow, sinking into the icy powder. Razvan caught her wrist before she could stuff another snowball down his shirt. She laughed up at him, looking good enough to eat. Before he could take advantage and kiss her, she pushed up with her heels, loosening him enough to roll them over so she was on top, trying to pin him down. They wrestled there in the snow, the flakes rising like a whirlwind to meet the ones falling from the sky, their laughter stirring the needles on the trees. The wind carried the sound on the stillness of the night.

They lay side by side, throwing arms and legs out, like two small children, making snow figures on the ground and then leaping to their feet for another wild battle with snowballs flying furiously.

Ivory finally leapt on him, arms circling his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips in an effort to stop the crazy game before she laughed so much she cried. «You are so crazy, Razvan,» she said, holding him tightly. She buried her face against his throat, afraid she really would burst into tears at the emotions welling up, threatening to overwhelm her.

She knew he thought her some kind of miracle, but in truth, to her he was the miracle. She had no idea how to have fun, and she had no idea how he did. There had been no fun in his life, only cruelty and torture; she at least had played with her pack, but it was Razvan who brought fun into her world again.

«Ivory?» His voice was gentle with inquiry.

She refused to lift her head, only held him tighter, keeping her face pressed against his throat, listening to the wild beating of his heart and feeling the reassuring throb of his pulse.

Razvan tightened his arms around her, rocking gently as if comforting her, but he said nothing at all, not asking for an explanation to the end of their game. He simply accepted. She closed her eyes and savored him. It wasn't the physical strength Razvan possessed in abundance that drew her to him, it was the sheer strength of his character, the absolute well of determined spirit deep inside of him. He was so steady. A rock. For her.

She lifted her head and smiled down at him, not realizing her heart was shining in her eyes. «You are mine, Dragonseeker. My rock.»

His slow, answering smile nearly stopped her heart. «That I am, han ku kuulua sivamet-keeper of my heart. I will be your everything.»

Ivory allowed her feet to drop down into the snow. «Let's go home.» More than anything she wanted to be home with him. She wanted her private sanctuary to welcome him, to feel as if he was as much a part of the pack-of her home-as he was her heart.

Razvan held out his hand to her. She glanced up at the sky, scanned the trees, hesitating. She was a warrior first. She could never lose sight of that.

«You will never be diminished by what is between us,» he said softly.

Something in her settled. She couldn't imagine being diminished by Razvan. If anything, she would be better, stronger, more. She looked at his upturned palm. His hand was large. There were scars up and down his wrist and forearm. Her heart fluttered. She placed her hand in his and watched his fingers close around hers, binding them together just as the ritual words had done.

Do you remember? She couldn't ask aloud; it meant too much. She was very spiritual and believed, whether anyone else did or not, that they had been created to be together, and those words imprinted on him from birth ad made them one.

Razvan brought her hand to his chest and stepped close, brushing the snow from the strands of hair tumbling around her face, pulled from her thick braid in their wild battle. «I remember every word, Ivory, and I meant them. I wanted the binding between us. It was not desperation. And it was not the need to save me.»

He bent his dark head in that slow way of his. He still had snowflakes on his lashes. As he moved, a thick heat slipped like molasses through her veins. His mouth closed over hers and the snow melted around her, she was certain of it. She swore she could see steam rising from the ground and feel molten liquid gathering like thick magma in her most feminine core.

She leaned into him, melting like the snow. She felt on the edge of a great precipice, teetering, knowing she was going to fall and it was far too late to save herself. In truth, she didn't want to; she already craved the taste of him, the heat and white lightning arcing through her body, sizzling in her mind, shorting out her brain for way too long when they were out in the open.

When he lifted his head she took a moment to drown in the intensity of his desire. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Ivory stepped away from temptation. «You are the most lethal man I know.»

«I will take that as a compliment.» He kissed her again. «You like lethal.»

He knew how to kiss. Long and slow and delicious. A slow, burning heat that scorched from the inside out. She found herself smiling up at him all over again as he lifted his head. «Yes, I suppose I do.» Although, she was scared to care that much about anyone ever again.

They walked through the drifting snow for several miles until the flakes began to look like a white blanket falling from the sky. It might have been the muffled world they found themselves in, alien and white and so quiet that even their breathing seemed too loud in the vast silence, but Ivory began to feel uneasy. Another mile and her wolves stirred. She felt the itch spread over her skin as Raja lifted his head out of her back and bared his teeth in a snarl.

I know, she soothed. We have company. Ivory glanced at Razvan. «We are being followed.» Her voice was a thread of sound, as muffled and as quiet as the snow.

A small, unexpected smile of amusement lit up Razvan's face. «Well, I guess we get to have a little fun.»

She frowned at him. «Fun? Razvan, it is not the undead who are following us. We cannot have anyone finding our lair, nor do we want to engage them in battle if they are Carpathian as I suspect they are.»

His grin widened. «I was fairly certain someone would try to follow us. I have been giving it quite a bit of thought as we walked, working out a plan.»

Ivory's amber gaze narrowed as it drifted over his face. He looked younger. Happier. She had done that but . . .

«Trust me, Ivory. I am not the experienced fighter you are, but I am very good at planning battles and strategies. This is a situation made for me.»

She sent her senses racing out into the night, seeking information, looking for any blank spots that would indicate vampire. The hunters were well hidden, so much so that she wasn't entirely certain she was right, but Raja was never wrong and he had issued his warning.

«What do you want to do?»

«We should make our way to the valley of mists. That is where we will disappear altogether and leave those following behind. But in the meantime, I think a little lesson is called for, don't you?»

«Lesson?» she echoed faintly. There was way too much amusement in his voice.

«They need to learn a little respect for my woman. You are a warrior, equal to them, and yet they treat you as if you are an amateur. They did not even give us the respect due by confronting us face-to-face. It might be a good thing for all of them to know they are not as good as they think they are.»

«I do not think these are children following us, Razvan. They are experienced Carpathian hunters, possibly ancients who have thousands of battles under them.»

His cocky grin made him look boyish when there was nothing boyish about him. «Perhaps, but then again, we may make them remember their childhood.»

«What do you all think you are doing?» Gregori demanded as he came upon the small group of Carpathian hunters.

Vikirnoff had the grace to look uneasy. «We are not children to be reprimanded, Gregori,» he answered.

Gregori's eyebrow shot up. «No, you are not. You are an ancient hunter, Vikirnoff, one far more experienced than me. Nor did I come to reprimand you. I asked what you were doing merely to see if you needed aid of any kind.»

The others looked at one another. It didn't surprise Gregori that Vikirnoff's brother, Nicolae, traveled with him. The brothers had been guarding one another's backs for hundreds of years. The other four hunters were also ancients, returning to the Carpathian Mountains to establish ties with the prince. It occurred to Gregori that all of these ancient hunters did not really know Mikhail and had every reason to worry about his judgment. They were far older and more experienced than the prince, and were used to relying solely on their own judgment.

Tariq Asenguard had come from the United States. Over the centuries he had amassed a huge personal fortune, which he often fed to the other Carpathians. He owned several businesses. Tall, like most Carpathian males, he wore his hair long, but his eyes were midnight blue, almost gemlike. Tariq was a man used to going his own way and the thought of an ancient book in the hands of Razvan and a Malinov was enough to set him traveling fast to see for himself just what the pair was up to.

Andre moved through countries like a ghost, drifting in only to pay his respects and pledge his allegiance. A man of very few words, he stayed aloof, as most ancient hunters did, his eyes restless, the urge to continue moving, the drive to find his lifemate ceaseless now as he neared the end of his tolerance. He was one of the single males Gregori kept a firm eye on, as both Tariq and Andre seemed very close to turning.

Mataias, Lojos and Tomas were never far from one another. Like most siblings raised together, they had formed a bond to see each other through the darker times. They came from a long line of famous warriors, a respected family that always produced multiple children, yet rarely gave birth. Two daughters had been born after the boys, both living no more than their second year. A master vampire had claimed their parents while their mother was pregnant with another set of triplets. The brothers had hunted the vampire across two continents, never ceasing in their pursuit until they had destroyed the undead, exacting justice for their parents and siblings and earning themselves quite a reputation.

Gregori folded his arms across his chest and regarded them all, making certain not to show amusement or exasperation. These men were some of the most respected ancients. They were experienced hunters, every one of them. Yet what they were doing was very foolish and more than a little dangerous and they all should have known better.

«Have you considered that you are following a couple that your prince has promised safe passage to?» he asked, keeping his voice mild and nonjudgmental.

Vikirnoff shrugged, equally casual. «This is an uncertain road. We would be remiss in not guarding the prince's guests.»

Gregori's eyebrow rose even higher. «I see. You don't mind if I just tag along and make certain you're all safe, right?»

Swift impatience crossed Vikirnoff's face. «I doubt we'll need protection, but you're welcome. Just make certain you mask your presence. I gave both of them blood so I will have no problem following them.»

«That will be interesting. I also gave them blood. Between the two of us, we should have no problem.»

Andre and Tariq exchanged a long look and then peered through the snow. It was coming down faster and faster.

«Is there something about this couple we should know, Gregori?» Tariq asked. He still held a faint European accent beneath the American one.

Gregori shook his head. «I am certain none of you would have come on such a mission without a clear idea of who you are chasing.»

«A woman,» Andre said. «Just a woman and her lifemate. One fairly unskilled.»

Gregori followed the others through the snow. «To be fair, they did encounter a master vampire and saved four humans.»

Andre gestured around him. «They play like children in the forest, while they carry a book of immense importance.»

«Do they now? A book of immense importance?»

Vikirnoff glared at him. «Enough, Gregori. You choose to be amused by this situation, but you did not see the things I did when Natalya recovered that book. It is dangerous. Too dangerous to go unguarded with people we do not know and with enemies closing in around us.»

«Oh, I assure you, Vikirnoff, amusement is not what I am feeling.» Gregori strode away from the man before he cursed him for being bull-headed. He dropped back, allowing the others to take the lead, knowing the seven hunters were underestimating their prey. In fact, chasing the pair into their own territory was probably the worst idea anyone had had in a long while, but he refused to waste his breath.

Nicolae held up his hand and all of them crouched low, spreading out and automatically blurring their bodies to make it much more difficult to see in the thick snowstorm. A slight breeze blew through the trees so that they caught glimpses of figures up ahead in the meadow-many figures. Big. Tall. Short. Stout. Arms stuck out in strange sticklike shapes, the fingers outstretched as if seeking something.

«What is it?» Vikirnoff asked. «That's not them.»

«Ghouls? An army of ghouls?» Andre suggested.

Gregori rolled his eyes. «I very much doubt it.»

As they stared, trying to peer through the heavy veil of snow, the figures shifted, moving busily around, stooping, shaping, building a low structure.

«A wall?» Tariq whispered.

«It's going up fast. Too fast to be anything but magic,» Mataias warned. He signaled his brothers and they separated, coming around the meadow from three different points of attack.

The hunters crept closer, using the trees to mask their presence, all senses alert. Whatever was guarding the couple gave off no scent, no spoor whatsoever. It was as if the couple was gone, and the land itself was pristine with snow.

«A fortress,» Lojos hissed in warning.

The attack came swiftly. Missiles whistled through the air, a bombardment, the air heavy with white-capped balls that hit with deadly accuracy, slamming into the Carpathians, the trees, and everything else in the battle zone.

«Acid!» Tomas hissed in warning.

The men dissolved and burst onto the battlefield, each in front of one of the attacking ghouls, punching through the chest to get at withered hearts, others slicing through necks to take the heads from the vampire's puppets.

Gregori folded his arms and leaned against the broad trunk of a tree and watched the frenzied, chaotic fight, the battle raging furiously as the ghouls continued hurling the missiles and others continued rapidly building until the structure began to form a roof, now surrounding them on all four sides, confining them within its walls.

«It is a trap,» Tariq warned the others. «Above you.»

The seven Carpathian hunters somersaulted away from their opponents, each trying to study the structure rapidly enclosing them.

Gregori shook his head, rolling his eyes while the minutes ticked by and the ghouls grew more plentiful and the missiles doubled.

Vikirnoff worked his way across the battlefield to his side. «Do you mind helping?»

«I would feel a bit ridiculous fighting snowmen, but you go right ahead,» Gregori said with a small elegant bow toward the ancient hunter.

Vikirnoff looked around, a frown on his face. Everything slowed a bit as he tried to see with all of his senses. The ferocious battle continued, but now the ghouls were white and flaky and suspiciously round in body and head. The arms appeared to be nothing more than branches and old twigs. The missiles were snowballs, splattering against their chests and faces.

Vikirnoff took a breath and let it out. The scene cleared and completely focused. Color swept up his neck and flooded his face.

«I believe you just got spanked,» Gregori said. «And by a girl.»

«Terad keje-get scorched, Gregori,» Vikirnoff snapped. «It is an illusion,» he called to the others. «She is good with magic. A delaying tactic only. They know we follow them.»

The fighting slowed and then halted as the hunters slowly realized they'd been duped. Around them, snowmen lay fallen, slashed, heads rolling with grinning faces laughing up at them.

«I cannot believe we fell for this,» Tariq said. «She is better than I gave her credit for. I did not, for one moment, feel a surge of energy.»

The hunters looked at one another. It was Lojos, renowned for being a great warrior, who voiced his appreciation. «Not only was there no surge of energy, the illusion was absolutely seamless. This is no amateur. Even the skill of the snowmen fighting was superb.» If he could have felt admiration it would have been in his voice, but his emotions had long since faded and all he could do was voice his acknowledgment of the expertise.

«Pick up the trail, Vikirnoff,» Mataias said with relentless purpose. «There is not even a faint trace left behind. We will have to use the call of your blood to track them.»

Gregori smirked a bit. «Yes, Vikirnoff. You use that. I am certain you will have no problems finding them.» The snow was coming down so hard that he almost failed to see Vikirnoff's face, but it was well worth the extra effort to see the hunter's exasperated expression.

«If your lifemate had been duped repeatedly by someone, you would not be so quick to trust him, Gregori,» Vikirnoff accused.

«Perhaps not, but I would trust my prince.»

Vikirnoff stalked away, leading the group of hunters across the meadow thick with snowmen and back into the forest. The scent was so faint, even with the call of his own blood, as if somehow it had been diluted. Wary of traps now, they had to move much more slowly, spread out in a standard search pattern, all senses alert. There were no tracks, no visible signs of Razvan and Ivory's passage. Twice Vikirnoff had to back-track and wind his way deeper into the forest where the trees were taller and closer together.

The canopy wove an umbrella overhead, blocking the worst of the snow so that the layers on the ground weren't quite as deep, although the branches overhead were piled high and every open space had high drifts.

Tariq clawed a spiderweb from his face as they infiltrated the darker recesses of the forest. The webs here were much more abundant, as often happened in less-traveled areas.

«It does not appear they came this way,» he cautioned. «The webs are intact.»

The hunters halted, maintaining at least a five-foot distance between one another. They inspected the numerous spiderwebs that stretched from tree to tree. Sparkling like diamonds from the ice crystals coating the intricate strands, the webs actually draped over many of the trees and stretched between them in labyrinths of artfully connected roadways. They had seen the ice spiders' elaborate webs before, mostly in caves deep beneath the ground, but once in a while they were treated to the rare sight during a prolonged cold winter.

«These webs have been undisturbed for many weeks,» Andre added, stepping close to one of the larger ones to study the insects trapped there. Even a few hapless lizards and birds had been snared by the strong webs. «I doubt they passed this way.»

«Perhaps as mist?» Mataias suggested. «They might have slipped through.»

«Not an ice spiderweb,» Lojos objected. «Everyone knows you cannot simply slip through.»

«Ice spiders are small, but ferocious,» Tomas reminded. «If you stumble upon a colony in the caves you had better fear for your life. This looks like a colony.»

«Without a doubt,» Nicolae agreed. «If we go into the middle of that, we had better be prepared to burn them out. Even with everything wet, we could destroy this forest.»

Vikirnoff glanced uneasily at Gregori. The healer made no suggestions, he simply stood off to the side and watched them puzzling out the trail. There was no expression on his face, no indication of what he might be thinking.

«Watch out for an ambush,» Nicolae cautioned, «but look around. They had to have come through here. If they found a passage, so can we.»

«Do not disturb the webs,» Vikirnoff cautioned as the hunters began to cast for signs.

The blood spoor was faint, and Vikirnoff was certain the couple had come through the ice spiders' territory. The webs appeared to encompass several miles of forest, a thick barrier stretching like fences through the trees. If the couple had skirted around rather than going through the colony, it would have taken them much longer, and the blood scent didn't lead that way. To avoid trouble with the dangerous and very aggressive spiders, they would have had to find a way to go through the area without tearing the webs. The spoor was so faint already, he was afraid if they chose the longer route, they'd lose the couple altogether.

«I believe I've figured out what they've done.» Lojos said. «They had to have repaired all damage to the webs as they passed through. If they could weave quickly enough and keep each web intact enough not to rouse the ire of the spiders, they might have made it through without a battle.»

Tariq nodded. «That is the only logical explanation. Spread out. No one is good enough to repair an ice spider's web exactly as the spider weaves it. They will have left signs.»

Vikirnoff sent an elated look toward Gregori, who merely shrugged, which irritated the hunter even more. The seven ancients spread out through the trees, stepping close to the webs, almost pressing their noses against them in an attempt to find any signs of ragged edges where the crystals clung to the silken strands.

Vikirnoff glanced at Nicolae, his frown deepening. «I do not see anything here, but no one passes through the heart of ice spiderwebs. They can go on for miles and it would be far too perilous. Not only is it too dangerous, the caution they would have taken would certainly have slowed them down.»

Looking at his brother, he moved from the outer trees toward the center of the forest. He took a step and his foot sunk about four inches into the snow in spite of making his body light. At once silken strands whipped up and around him, enclosing him in a net that sprang from the ground high into the air, the web tight, without the tiny holes allowing vapor to pass through.

Vikirnoff struggled, but as with all ice spider traps, the web tightened the more he struggled, rolling him until he was trussed up like a turkey. He forced himself to go still, fury eating at his usual calm. He found himself high in the canopy, dangling several hundred feet up in the air. His brother glared back at him from the net where he was wrapped like a mummy and trapped within the silken, crystalline net. Around them the other hunters had met the same fate.

Vikirnoff didn't dare look at Gregori. «Get us down,» he bit out.

Gregori sighed. «If I move, Vikirnoff, I may step into one of the numerous traps laid out. I have to study the situation first. It will do no good for me to wind up the same way.»

«Spiders could never do this,» Lojos said. «Magic is at work here.»

«You think?» Nicolae was sarcastic. «We are being made fools of.»

«Or perhaps you are simply being fools,» Gregori offered.

Vikirnoff snarled at him. «Say what you like, Gregori, but if they have nothing to hide, they would not have gone to such lengths to hide from us.»

As he spoke the branches overhead stirred, flakes raining down as spiders scurried along the intricate webbing. One began to lower itself toward Vikirnoff, drawn by his voice.

Gregori, placing his feet carefully in the obvious minefield of snares, moved closer, should his aid become necessary.

The spider stopped level with Vikirnoff's eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment. Vikirnoff could see the fangs dripping with venom. The spider began to weave another web, this time forming words as if programmed. It took some time for the spider to connect the silken lines.

Fear not. I have arranged for safe passage through spider territory.

Vikirnoff felt his gut tighten. Safe passage. As if they were children unable to make it through the ice spiders' realm on their own. The blow to their pride was deliberate. A slap in the face.

Vikirnoff was tempted to roast the entire colony by calling down the lightning.

«I wouldn't do that,» Gregori said. «If Ivory or Razvan used magic and befriended these spiders, chances are they left protection behind for them. They traded something for your safe passage.»

«We didn't ask for their help,» Vikirnoff snarled, his teeth snapping together.

Above their heads the trees came alive as thousands of spiders shifted and moved. Vikirnoff wished he'd never set out on the journey in the first place but he wasn't about to tell Gregori that. Forcing back his anger, he inclined his head to accept whatever agreement Ivory and Razvan had made.

«Hopefully you are right about them and they haven't traded their safe passage by giving us to the spiders for their winter food.»

«I would not allow that to happen.»

That was almost as hard to swallow as the couple arranging safe passage. Vikirnoff swore silently. They had no choice now. They had to continue forward, and he knew the healer wore that particularly annoying smirk.

They were lowered back to the ground almost at a snail's pace, making Vikirnoff want to scream in frustration. Another delaying tactic. And then each was rolled out, one by one, so the silken strands binding them could be preserved, another absolutely humiliating torture for experienced hunters. And if Gregori mentioned spankings again, he'd kill the man and damn the consequences. While the hunters were being rolled out like sausages, an opening was prepared through the webs so when all seven hunters were once again standing beside Gregori, there was a way through the thick forest.

Uneasy now, the group continued to follow Vikirnoff as he set out to track Ivory and Razvan through the dark interior and back out the other side. They found themselves in the worst possible place and the spiders worked quickly to close the passage behind them.

The Valley of Mists lay between two tall mountain peaks, rising abruptly at near vertical angles. The gorge was narrow and treacherous, nearly always entrenched with thick, icy mist, the particles small enough to nearly freeze lungs when inhaled. No one, not even Carpathians, could see through the heavy veil of mist that hung like clouds. Snow and ice often calved off the angular cliffs, and avalanches were frequent in the area.

The wind often came in off the highest peaks on a spiraling down-draft to howl through the canyon at breakneck speeds, carrying voices, wreaking havoc with auditory senses. Few animals could live in the valley; snow leopards reigned, but even they stayed away from the base of the mountains where the snow and ice sloughed off with thundering force.

The hunters heard the sound of a woman's laughter and figures moved in the mist. Tomas glanced at his brothers and they moved forward only four steps into the valley and disappeared.

Vikirnoff looked at Gregori. «They chase ghosts, don't they?»

Gregori shrugged. «I would imagine they do.»

Vikirnoff closed his eyes and sent his mind seeking the blood trail. It was lost in the mist. Not even the faintest trace remained. «They probably dissolved into mist and are mixed in this thick soup. I could spend months trying to trace them.»

«You will not find them,» Gregori said.

Tomas, Mataias and Lojos returned. «We are chasing phantoms. They play with us, but they are no longer here.»

Vikirnoff shook his head. «I hope your prince knows what he is doing, Gregori.»

«Our prince,» Gregori said. «Each of you swore allegiance.» This time there was no amusement. None. The silver eyes glinted at each of the hunters as if marking them. «Ivory and Razvan refused the offer of the book. Mikhail tested them in every way and they passed each test. I cannot say the same for any of you.»

He simply dissolved and streamed away, up and over the forest with its spider colony, back toward Carpathian territory, leaving the others to follow.

«I think you have a devious mind,» Ivory said as she once again resumed her physical form, standing in the memory room of her lair. «Leading the hunters into the Valley of Mist and then going beneath the ground rather than through the mist was a stroke of genius. There was no way they could track us, not even through the call of blood.»

«The earth welcomes us and covers all tracks. I knew they could never follow our scent, even with the call of blood.» Razvan grinned at her. «I would have liked to have been there when they realized they were trapped in an illusion and fighting with snowmen, not ghouls.» He burst out laughing.

She stretched her arms wide to allow the wolves to take their normal shapes. «We did not make any friends.»

«We do not need friends. In any case, if they are without emotions, they could care less one way or the other.» He frowned. «I do not envy Mikhail his job.»

«Especially trying to destroy that book. He has no idea of the evil things inside of it.»

Razvan was silent for a long moment. «I should have spoken with him more about the book and its destruction. I dislike the idea of my aunts having to deal with anything involved with Xavier, but they, better than anyone else, would know how best to destroy the book.»

The concern in his voice moved her. The man had more compassion in him and more drive to protect those he loved than any person she'd ever met. Ivory turned toward him, her gaze drifting over him slowly. He took up a lot of space there in the confines of her home. His shoulders were broad and his physique very masculine. There was little soft about Razvan, although he had the calmest, most serene nature she'd ever run across as a rule. He glanced up and caught her looking at him.

Her heart leapt. There was stark, raw hunger in his eyes, glittering at her, devouring her, drinking her in. Her mouth went dry. They were alone. She moistened her lips. Wanting him. Even needing him. Fear gripping her.

«Razvan.» His name came out husky, her voice shaken.

His smile was slow, his voice as thick as molasses. «Ivory.»

The way he said her name made her body go hot and damp and her heart pound more. There would be no going back. It was all or nothing with him, she knew that about him. Once he touched her, claimed her, made her part of him, she would be lost. Completely. How much of her would disappear? She ached for this. For him. She was on fire for him. Almost desperate, when desperate wasn't part of her makeup.

She held up a shaky hand before he could take a step toward her. «If you ever betrayed me, I would kill you. I would, Razvan. You have to know that. There would be no forgiveness. I have not trusted another person in centuries. Others do not matter, but you-you would matter.»

«I would expect nothing less from my woman.»

A slow, sexy smile curved his mouth and burned in his eyes. Hunger stared back at her. Desire. Lust. All things she could cope with. But there was love, pure and honest and so real it took her breath away, shaking her to her very core. Something inside her welled up. Burst. Opened to him. For him. This one man. If she took him in, her love for him would consume her. She had so much to give, but she'd been alone for so long . . .

He held out his hand to her. «I have been alone, too.»

She wanted to make him understand the enormity of the decision. Did he know what it would cost her? Did he know how terrified she was? Did he have any idea how bad she was going to be at a relationship?

His smile widened, giving her a flash of his white teeth. He leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss over her mouth. There was no way to save herself from her treacherous heart. She had already committed to him. She had fallen for his smile. His gentle nature. His iron will. Everything about him drew her. Even his stubborn streak and that absolute boyish sense of humor. Everything.

There was more danger to her here, in this man, in this moment, than from the most powerful master vampire imaginable, or from the most ferocious of battles. Loving him too much, as she would-maybe already did-might destroy her. She could put her physical body back together, but not her heart, not her soul-not the very essence of who she was.

«Trust me, beloved. I know I am asking more than any other has dared to ask, but look into the soul we share and trust me.»

Ivory kept her gaze locked with his. His eyes. His gorgeous, wild, midnight blue eyes that held so much. All for her. Only for her. So much hunger. So much desire. So much love. Her mouth trembled as she placed her hand in his and let him lead her into their bedchamber. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain he could hear it.

Razvan closed the door on the wolves, leaving them settled in the larger memory room. He waved his arm to set lights flickering on a hundred miniature candles set into small indentations in the rock wall. The flames danced, throwing shadows across Ivory's face. Her skin looked porcelain, rose-petal soft and inviting. Her eyes were enormous, burnished gold, liquid and frightened like a wild creature trapped by a predator, looking at him with a mixture of longing and innocence that was both intoxicating and irresistible.

He reached behind her and pulled her thick braid over her shoulder to release the tie, his fingers tunneling through the silky strands to loosen the tight weave so that her hair tumbled around her face and cascaded down her back. The texture of her hair, so soft, the strands running through the pads of his thumb and fingers, brought the smoldering embers into a slow burn. She didn't flinch or turn away from him, nor did she lower her gaze from his.

There was courage in Ivory, an abundance of it. Courage he knew was a huge part of who she was. Ivory didn't give up. If she committed herself to him, she would give everything to him, hold nothing back. He loved her all the more for that trait, that absolute unswerving characteristic that made her a dangerous hunter, but would also make her a fiercely loyal partner and a fantasy lover.

He wanted to take his time, explore every inch of her, every secret shadow and hollow, every intriguing, mysterious feminine curve. He could barely breathe with wanting. His hands moved to the buckles of her vest. He knew each buckle intimately, having committed them to memory earlier-the leather straps with the double holes-the tiny crosses embedded in the steel of each metal clasp and the three metal rivets on each side of the buckle and strap, also embedded with a cross-the cross that represented her faith and shining soul.

Of course either of them could have removed her clothes with a single thought, but he wanted the pleasure of unwrapping her. He wanted to take his time and offer her every single moment of pleasure he could give her-build her need from a smoldering ember into a raging firestorm.

She didn't move, but he felt her sharp inhale and her breasts rose and fell against his knuckles as he worked the straps apart and pushed the material off her shoulders for a slow unveiling of her magnificent body. Her breasts spilled out. Soft. Enticing. So tempting he cupped the soft weight in his palms, all the time watching her face.

He saw the swift pleasure overtake her, the flush of color, the slight glazing of her eyes as his thumbs brushed over the taut peaks of her nipples. Holding the twin soft mounds in the palms of his hands felt like a miracle, the sensation beyond his fantasies. He'd given up those dreams long ago-so long ago he couldn't even remember if he'd ever had them-yet she stood before him, her soft feminine curves a gentle weight in his hands and her enormous eyes looking at him with such trepidation . . . and anticipation.

He brushed a kiss over her forehead, then down to the corner of her left eye. A small shudder went through her body. He kissed the tip of her nose and the corners of her mouth. Her lips parted slightly. Hunger welled up in her, swamping him so that for a moment his mouth hovered a scant inch from hers while he fought for control.

He took her breath first, drawing it deep into his lungs, and then he took her mouth, his lips settling over hers, absorbing the shape and texture, the soft firmness, the building heat. His tongue slid along that slightly parted seam, the small invitation.

Ivory's breath caught in her throat. He was leading her down an unknown path of temptation, and she was just too far gone to resist. His kiss was sinful, his mouth a wicked excitement that filled her with such need she couldn't stop her response. He whispered something, sexy, nearly imperceptible, as his tongue swept into her mouth, exploring the hot recesses, running seductively over her teeth and claiming her body for his own.

She knew that was what it was. A claiming. Taking her body and making it his own. His thumbs brushed across her nipples and she nearly cried out, the sound strangled by the lump rising in her throat. Streaks of fire raced from her breast to her clit and her womb clenched. He kissed her over and over until she felt delirious, but one part of her was always focused on his hands. On waiting. On needing.

She stood there with him fully clothed, his dark, streaked hair pulled back so that he looked in control while she was naked from the waist up with her hair tumbling in every direction, a wild, wanton bundle of nerves that finally understood that her destination was this man. This journey she took with him, no matter how frightening, wasn't being taken alone. He had allowed her to lead the way in her field of strength. He was asking her to give herself up to him, just as he had done for her.

He wanted her trust. Wholly. He wanted her to give him everything she was or would ever be without pride or ego, trusting he would cherish her gift for all time. His kiss had been a match, lighting something deep inside her that flared up now, something feminine and alive and needy beyond belief. She wanted to please him. She wanted to be his solace. His pleasure. His everything.

Her tongue slid along his, dancing and teasing, as she pushed her aching breasts deeper into his palms, needing that next brush of fire. His kisses were addictive, burning hot until she knew passion was spinning out of control and her mind was hazy with desire. He bit at her lower lip and the sting sent a lightning strike sizzling through her belly straight to her feminine channel. Even her thighs quivered, her body going into meltdown.

His teeth scraped along her chin, his tongue swirling over the small dip there and traveling down to her throat. He took his time, even though she was melting right there on the floor. His mouth moved over her throat, those wicked teeth scraping gently, sending a sinful lash of spiraling heat sliding from belly to thigh.

She could barely breathe, waiting. Knowing. In the grip of a desire far too strong to ever withstand. He lowered his mouth and took her breast with the same slow heat he'd taken her mouth. His warm breath came first, so that she felt him all the way through her breast and deep under her skin. Her breath just stopped as she strained toward him. His tongue flicked her nipple and she whimpered. Then his mouth drew her deep, suckled, and she cried out, throwing her head back, her arms cradling his head to her, holding him close. Her fingers curled into fists, bunching his hair while her toes curled in a matching reflex.

Desire punched low and fierce, as he captured her other nipple and began to roll and tug to the rhythm of his mouth. Another cry escaped as white lightning ripped through her body, straight from her breasts, through her abdomen to her very core and even lower still, spreading down her thighs until electric sparks crackled around her.

Blood roared in her ears, pounded in her heart and through her veins as he drew the nipple tight against the roof of his mouth and stroked and caressed. She needed him in a way she'd never needed anyone in her life. He was like the brightest star, the moonlight spilling silver across a new snow. He made an ugly world beautiful and decent and made her remember she was a woman.

His mouth was like black velvet, dark and intoxicating, his hands shaping her breasts while his teeth and tongue built the fire in her hotter. When he lifted his head she could see ravenous hunger, yet with those same unhurried movements, his clever fingers skimmed her bare belly. He caught her rib cage between his palms and bent his head to trace a trail of fire over each rib and down to her belly button, where his tongue swirled until she clutched his hair to keep herself upright.

His eyes met hers and his hands dropped to the belt at her hip, pulling the slider apart and dropping weapons and holster onto the floor. She felt the brush of his fingers against her lower belly as he tugged on the leather ties and unfastened the opening. She was tempted to just get rid of her clothes herself, her body on fire with need, but there was a warning in his hot eyes, a look of possession that she found just a little thrilling-okay, maybe a lot. He enjoyed unwrapping her and she wanted to give him that joy. She found herself feeling unexpectedly sexy as he tugged her trousers down her legs and one hand at her hip urged her to step forward out of them.

She held her breath. She was totally naked, every line and curve exposed to his hungry gaze. He just stood there, hands on the curve of her hips, his gaze moving over her, absolutely, wholly focused on her in that way he had, as if he saw nothing else, was aware of nothing else. Only Ivory. She put her hand on his chest, right over his heart, and felt it beating hard. Stark desire radiated from him-for her.

She'd never had a man look at her like that. Certainly Draven had wanted her, but not with love carved into every line of his face. Not with his body shuddering and his heart hammering. He had never looked at her with such a fever of need, with his mind open to hers and his heart given fully to her. No one had ever made her feel as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, wholly desired, completely loved-until now.

«Ivory.» Her name came out strangled in his throat. A soft symphony that brushed her skin just as effectively as his hands.

He brought her to him again, taking her mouth, this time in a fever of need, scorching her with his searing heat as he pulled her closer, so that his heavy erection pushed against her soft belly right through the material of his trousers. She heard her own strangled moan as his mouth fastened on hers, this time without that slow burn. This time wild and so hot it scorched her. He had driven her out of her mind so that need was the only thing she knew, and she melted into him, nearly blind with hunger for his touch.

His tongue tangled with hers as his hands came back to her sensitive breasts, fingers tugging and rolling her nipples until she was panting, gasping, little whimpers escaping. His skin felt hot beneath his shirt, as her nails dug deep into his shoulders. A shudder went through his body. His mouth was addictive, that dark, rich taste of sin and sex she found intoxicating. His body was hard and powerful, moving against hers, controlled, aggressive now, inflaming her more. She could feel each defined muscle rippling beneath his skin, his body tense with need as his kisses sent electrical sparks sizzling through her veins directly to her feminine channel so she was damp and needy, and moaning into his mouth.

She couldn't stop touching him, his hair, his neck, his throat, sliding her hands over his arms and the muscles there, dragging husky male groans, throaty and raw with passion for him. The sound inflamed her more until she thought she was burning up, her body moving almost compulsively against his.

He made a sound. Dark. Dangerous. Intoxicating. He simply drove his hips upward, against the junction of her thighs, pressing tightly while he rocked her there. The urgent movement was incredibly sexy, sending a shaft of desire, sweet and hot, piercing through her core, and she buried her face against his neck, stroking with her tongue, nipping with her teeth, reveling in the way his body shuddered in reaction.

His fingers found her inner thigh. Stroked. Took the breath from her body. His leg forced her thighs open to him, the rough material rubbing over her skin as she bucked helplessly into him, nearly sobbing with need.

«Are you wet for me, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso-beloved?»

His voice was a black velvet seduction in her ear. A blatant, wicked temptation.

«Are you?» He sounded like pure sin.

She tugged frantically at his shirt, desperate to get at him, as need clawed at her. She ached, her feminine sheath coiled tight with building tension, frantic for release, for him to fill the clutching emptiness. She managed to shove his shirt off his body and couldn't stand anything between them, not even for another second. She stripped him with magic, with frenzied, almost violent haste.

One hand fisted in her hair, dragged her head back to expose her throat to rake gently with his teeth. He bit down and her womb clenched. He trailed fiery kisses over her neck, and then his mouth was ravaging her breasts, his teeth and tongue sending molten fire racing through her blood. His hand slipped over her thigh, caressed and stroked the soft inner skin, moving higher, knuckles brushing the damp mound at the junction there.

Ivory inhaled sharply. Went still. Her breath caught in her lungs. Just stayed trapped there, burning and raw. Razvan pulled his head back and stared into her eyes. She drowned there. Holding her gaze captive, he plunged his fingers into her tight, wet channel. Ivory's eyes widened. She heard the surprised wail escaping her throat, dizzy with shock.

Razvan thrust into her mind so he could feel her response, her reactions guiding his every move. She didn't know if she could stand feeling both of them, the ravenous hunger, the building fire leaping between them.

Still looking at her, Razvan dropped to his knees. He lowered his gaze in a slow, possessive study of her body, watching her flush with arousal, all the while his fingers plunged deep. Her scent called to him as she rode his hand, almost sobbing. Very slowly he removed his fingers and licked at them, savoring the exotic taste of her. She moaned and the sound vibrated through his heavy erection so that he pulsed with urgent need. He ignored his own body's reaction, desperate for the taste of her.

Desperate. He was desperate for her taste. That alone was enough to undo her, that this man, kneeling at her feet, looking like a fallen angel, could be so desperate for her taste, for the hot cream spilling out to welcome him.

He kept her thighs spread with his hands and took her with his mouth, his tongue sliding through the satin-soft heat. She shuddered. Caught his hair with both fists and yanked, the biting pain thickening his shaft even more. His name was strangled, cut off as she lost her ability to breathe when he licked at her like a hungry wolf.

The rasp of his tongue was too much. Her knees weakened and her body coiled too tight, burned too hot, clenching and rippling with shocking intensity. She cried out his name again, trying to say stop, but not wanting this to ever end. It mattered little; he was beyond hearing, his blood thundering in his ears, the taste of her driving him wild. He ate at her like a starving wolf, his tongue stroking, lapping and then suckling her clit, plunging deep and then flicking at the hard nub while she bucked and thrust against his mouth in a mindless, fiery explosion.

Ivory screamed. She'd never screamed in her life. Not when Draven caught her. Not when the vampires had attacked. Never. Not once. But the pleasure bordered on ecstasy, roaring through her belly and rippling through her womb, wave after wave, so that she clung to his shoulders for support while the tidal wave burst through her.

Razvan lifted her then, cradling her in his arms, taking her to the soft bed in the chamber, weaving and floating a silken sheet to lay her on. He came down with her, spreading her legs a second time, his mouth latching on to her, tongue stabbing deep to drive her up a second time. She wept, digging her nails into his back, trying desperately to hold on to sanity as he took her up fast. She heard herself pleading, for what she didn't even know, and then he was rising above her, his face a harsh mask of desire in stark contrast to the unashamed, fierce love in his eyes.

She felt him press the broad head of his erection at her entrance, and time stopped. Sound stopped. There was only the sensation of his body demanding entrance to hers. There was white lightning flashing over her skin, through her body, streaking through her bloodstream as he began to invade, his thick shaft pushing through the tight folds of her body. Between her thighs, his shaft was like a hot brand, where he stretched her slowly on an exquisite rack of pleasure.

His voice was harsh as he murmured to her in the ancient tongue, somewhere between swearing and praising, maybe both. Her blood, thundering in her ears, drowned out the actual words. He was trying to ease into her, to allow her body plenty of time to accommodate his length and girth, but she couldn't stay still, not even when his hands pinned her hips and held her. The pleasure was too much. She thrust upward, using her heels for leverage, just as he eased forward again.

A lash of pain accompanied the pleasure pouring over her as his body thrust deep into hers. His fingers tightened on her hips-dug in-forced her to be still.

«Stop, Ivory. Do not move.» His breathing was as harsh as his voice, ragged and uneven. «We're both going to go up in flames. You are so tight.»

She could see his white teeth snap together as her muscles gripped and squeezed. That smooth control had slipped. She loved that she'd managed to shake his calm. She could feel the pounding need in him, the dark hunger, see the lengthening of his teeth, just that hint of danger that made her heart jump and her body flood with more liquid cream. She dug her nails into him, her breasts heaving, desperate for more-desperate for him to move. «Please, Razvan. Please.»

The urgency in her took him over the edge. He caught her hips and dragged her legs over his arms, levering himself to ride over her clit, and then he plunged deep, the friction nearly intolerable, the pleasure so intense she was afraid of losing herself completely in him. He reared back and began a harsh rhythm, deep and strong and fast, so deep he pierced her womb, the hot length of him filling her, binding them together.

His mind moved in hers so that she felt the fire streaking through his body, the way her tight sheath dragged and milked at him, scorching hot, velvet soft, an exquisite pleasure-pain that shook him to his soul. The tension in her body built, coiling tighter and tighter, until she was frantically writhing beneath him, her breath coming in wild gasps, her head tossing back and forth, her nails raking at his back.

«Razvan.» She sobbed his name. A plea. A demand. She needed… Needed!

«I know, Ivory,» he bit out softly between his teeth. «Give yourself to me. All of you. Let go, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso-beloved. I will catch you.»

She felt consumed with fire. Terrified she might disappear in the flames. The tension wound her so tight, yet she couldn't let go, couldn't bring herself to take that last leap of faith. She sobbed again, clutching him tighter, not wanting this moment to end, but fearing if they didn't stop, she would be lost.

He pounded into her, his shaft a steel-edged sword, piercing her womb and her heart, taking a part of her into him, just as a part of him was deep within her.

«It is already too late,» he whispered, and his voice was that of a dark angel. A whisper of velvet, a lash of heat.

It was too late to save herself; her body was already lost, would forever need his. He had driven her so high she had to fly. He dragged her closer and leaned over her, his body still surging into hers, over and over, a piston that never stopped, never slowed, until she thought she might scream again with the wonder of it. She felt her body tighten. And tighten. Gripping his. Squeezing. She could hear the sounds of their bodies coming together, the hard slap of flesh; felt the power of him moving within her. His body tilted one more time and he dragged the long length of his hard shaft over her sensitized clit.

Her body went rigid. For a moment she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Her body tightened around his thick shaft, clamping down almost painfully as the rippling sensations began building into a giant tidal wave, spreading through her body like a flash fire, white hot and powerful. Wave after wave. Never ending. A shock that put her system on overload. She wept with the force of her release, the beauty and wonder of it, as she felt her body take his, forcing him with her, hearing his hoarse shout as his hot seed emptied into her.

She felt his bite, the pleasure-pain of it, and her body clenched and rippled again and again as he took her blood in an erotic exchange. She arched her back, thrusting upward with her hips as her body continued to clench around his, squeezing down on him, milking every drop from his body. He swept his tongue across the swell of her breasts, closing the pinpricks and looked down on her with his sexy eyes.

Just his look made her body react again, another wave washing over both of them. She raised her head to capture his mouth with hers, kissing him, holding him to her as she kissed her way down his throat. She felt his shaft harden again that fast, filling and stretching her as she licked at his pulse. A harsh groan escaped him.

Her teeth nipped his skin and she felt the instant jerk of his erection. She bit down and he slammed his hips hard, burying himself deep, holding her bottom with one hand, forcing her to accept his wildly plunging body. She felt the taste of him exploding inside of her, filling her with his essence. She'd never felt so complete. So loved. She swept her tongue across the pinpricks on his throat and let her body go up another time, this time without resistance.

She could hear her own soft gasps, smell their combined scents as the waves broke over her again and again before he found his own release.

They lay together, their arms around each other, their bodies joined, neither wanting to move. It was several minutes before Razvan found the strength to move, rolling off her to stare up at the glittering ceiling, his fingers linking behind his head.

«Give me a few minutes and I will carry you to the pool.»

He turned his head, his smile tender, sending her heart somersaulting. He looked different. Younger. Happier. That same serenity was there, but this time there was love looking back at her with pure, undiluted happiness and joy. She wished she could share her emotions with him aloud, but she contented herself with surrounding him with the deepest feelings she had for him, overwhelming love, so much she couldn't give voice, even telepathically.

His fingers moved over hers, stroked small caresses until she linked her fingers with his. «Thank you, Ivory.»

«For what?» A smile escaped. «I think I should be thanking you.»

His smiled widened. «You have given me the most beautiful experience of my life. Whatever else happens, I will always have the memory of you giving yourself to me.»

«I was afraid,» she confessed in a low voice.

«I know you were,» he said gently, «which made your gift all the more treasured.»

«Are you really going to carry me to the pool?»

«Don't sound so scared,» he teased. «Somehow I will manage to find the strength. I promise, I will not drop you.»

She tightened her fingers around his. «I know that. I just might feel silly.»

«No one is here but us, Ivory,» he pointed out, his tone more tender than ever.

She felt her heart twist again. He could do that so easily to her. Move her. Make her melt. It wasn't his incredible body or the way he took her to such heights, it was that enduring love he seemed to have for her. A rock. A foundation. Strong and accepting that made her feel as if she could always count on him.

«I know.»

«Do you think I will think less of you?»

She was silent, contemplating his question, turning it over and over in her mind. She just felt ridiculous feeling about him the way that she did. Why couldn't she let herself go in the way that he did?

«I don't think I know how to be a woman.» She didn't know how else to say it.

Razvan turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. «Ivory, you are my woman. You do not have to be like any other. I do not want any other. There is no comparison. Be who you are. Make no apologies, certainly not to me.» A small smile curved his mouth and he leaned forward to brush kisses over her mouth. «I love the way you are, that little reluctance you have to tell me I am the greatest man in all the world.»

His soft laughter stroked over her skin. He sounded so boyish, carefree even, less inhibited for the first time in his life.

He managed to climb to his feet and lifted her, cradling her in his arms as if she were as light as a child. «You have worn me out, warrior woman.»

Ivory couldn't help laughing. «If you were truly the greatest man in all the world, you would not be worn out. You would be ready to service my every need.»

His eyebrow shot up. «I believe that is a challenge.» He fastened his mouth to hers as he took her through to the next room where the water spilled out of the rock wall into the smooth basin. «I am more than up for servicing your every need.» He whispered the words against her mouth, his tongue flicking over her lips, savoring her taste.

«Really? I am not quite as certain.» She used her haughtiest tone.

He dropped her into the water. She came up sputtering to find him standing there, hands on his hips, the water lapping at his thighs.

«That was so mean.»

«You deserved it.»

«Maybe I did,» she agreed, laughing.

He was teaching her how to have fun. To play. To take each moment they had together and live it well. In the spirit of learning, she sent up a plume of water with deadly aim. The water shot over his face and splashed down his chest.

«I thought you might need a little cooling off.»

His eyebrow rose. Amusement lit his eyes. «I think you just declared war.»

She stuck out her chin. «I think I did.»

The water fight was fast and furious. Water geysered nearly to the ceiling and splashed against the wall. Twice he launched himself at her, bringing her down like a crocodile might its prey, rolling her under the water before she could wiggle away from him and surface to attack again.

She threw herself at him, arms circling his neck, and body slammed him, taking them both under and when they came up, they rested on the side of the warm pool and let the bubbles fizz against their skin.

She rubbed her arms and glanced upward as if she might be able to see the sky. «I can always tell when the sun is about to rise. My skin prickles and becomes uncomfortable. Most Carpathians can stay out in the early morning hours but I cannot.»

«Not at all?»

She rested one hip against the smooth basin and wrung out her hair. «My skin is so fair, all the years spent in the ground away from even moonlight while I was healing, and I get burned. More like a light sunburn, I guess, but I blister fairly easily.» She smiled at him as a memory came to her. «Once, I found a bottle of sunblock a hiker had dropped. I tried it.»

He tucked her hair behind her ear. «I take it that didn't go very well.»

«Not really, no.»

«Have you tried staying up longer while you are here, underground?»

She rubbed her arms again, shivering a little. «Sometimes when I get working on experimenting with new chemicals to hold the vampire in place, I do not feel the sensation for a while, but most of the time, I am so uneasy, I just go to ground.»

«Your formula to coat your weapons is brilliant.»

She sent him a quick, pleased smile, a little shy when he gave her compliments. «I am still working on it. It needs to last a little longer before their blood eats through it. The more time I give myself, by preventing them from shifting, the more of an edge I have.»

«We have,» he corrected.

She nodded. «We have,» she agreed.

«Is your skin hurting now?» Razvan asked, clearly prepared to carry her back to their bedchamber.

«Not really. It is close to dawn though. Very close.»

She liked being with him. She hadn't thought she would. She had been alone for so long she thought it would be uncomfortable to share her space with him, but she enjoyed his sense of humor. He was an intelligent man, quick-witted yet he lacked an ego, which might have made it difficult for someone like her to be with a partner. He was peaceful, and she often found herself wanting to just stand beside him, to feel the way his serenity radiated from him to surround and hold her. Truthfully, she found him sexy and rather intoxicating.

Razvan smiled at her. «I am reading your mind.»

She tossed her head. «Do not read too much into whatever I was thinking.»

Razvan lowered himself into the water, ducking his head and then coming up fast right beside her, his hands skimming up her thighs, over the curves of her hips, along her tucked-in waist and higher up along her rib cage until he was holding the soft weight of her breasts in his palms. «I think you should read my mind.»

Before she could reply he dipped his head and drew her nipple deep into his mouth. It mattered little that he had already made love to her twice, that her body had been sated. She instantly felt the heat swamping her. His wet hair slid over her abdomen and teased her mound as he tugged and teased and suckled.

She held him there for a moment, savoring the pleasure filling her and then she dipped her fingers beneath the water and found his erection already growing firm. At the touch of her fingers his shaft jerked and pulsed. She smirked, realizing the power of her touch as she caressed his hard length with strokes before wrapping her fingers around him to enclose his hard flesh in a tight fist.

Razvan lifted his head and looked at her with dark, hungry eyes. «What are you doing?»

«A little exploring of my own.»

He leaned back until his hip brushed the wall of the basin to steady himself. Her touch left him weak, his body shuddering with need.

«You could always sit,» Ivory suggested, her voice silky, «as this may take some time. I am very thorough when I explore.»

Swallowing hard, Razvan sat up on the very edge of the smooth rock, allowing his legs to dangle in the pool. His erection throbbed against his stomach, rock hard and growing by the moment. When she cupped his balls and leaned down for her first tentative lick, his breath exploded from his lungs. When her mouth took him, he was lost in her body, in her mind, in everything she was to him.

Razvan fisted his hands in her hair and held on, knowing this was the beginning of a wild ride with his beloved lifemate.

«What is this?» Razvan looked over Ivory's shoulder, his body watched her work.

He had awakened that evening with the feeling of her fingers caressing his skin. The wonder of having Ivory in his life, in his bed, his soul merged with hers, was beyond anything he could ever have imagined. Their lovemaking had been gentle and tender and then turned ferocious and wild.

Hunting had been fun together. They had watched the rising moon burning across the snowcapped mountains, pouring silver across the midnight blue skies to spotlight the sparkling snow layered across the meadows and hanging in the trees. They flew through the sky together, high above the trees, wing tip to wing tip, the wind ruffling feathers, both caught up in the freedom of the owls soaring, wheeling and dipping, performing acrobatics just for fun because they could.

Somersaulting with her, talons linked, Razvan knew that everything he needed was here, in this one woman. She had saved him with her smile. With her inner beauty. Her soul. She had become his own personal miracle. He wasn't altogether certain the earth had healed him. She had. With the colors she had provided, bringing life to his world. With the joy she had restored, so that each moment meant something to him. She had replaced the shadows in his eyes, in his heart, with love. She had replaced the darkness in his soul with light.

He swallowed hard, his chin nuzzling her shoulder as he peered at the book she had open as she studied her books in her workroom. He could see she had written in the ancient text and he read the words to himself, frowning over them.

The mage walks forth as the Hell Gate closes Lightning strikes with his first order Energy spirals from his fingertips A spell does form upon his lips Tall and dark, handsomely slender His silver eyes burn like lighted embers A power, a presence one cannot explain A drawing feeling that will not leave the brain A longing, a yearning that burns like fire To be wanted and taken with heated desire The mage walks forth unfolding his arms His victim comes quietly, succumbed by his charms The embers of passion burst forth in flame As the mage draws heart's blood from deep within Consuming all, leaving no remains The victim languishes in untold pain The mage, having taken body and soul, Now turns from the broken to seek one who is whole The pattern is set, the ending the same The mage needs heart's blood to be whole and remain

Razvan's stomach lurched, and just like that his world spun away from him, collapsing into images of blood and screams and death. He dropped his arms and stepped back, turning away from her. «Why would you write such a vile thing? Why would you give him such honor as to set him down on paper and give him to history?»

Ivory turned at his low tone, caught his arm and stepped in front of him. His eyes were filled with horror. Nightmare memories. His were not the nightmares that evaporated because the mind played tricks, his were made of true memories that would last an eternity. She had inadvertently conjured up the images of his past.

«It is not to memorialize him. I have to hold his image when I work. The image I saw, so that I know him, so that I am never tricked as I work on his spells. He is evil. He will always be evil. He chose to be evil. And I have to keep my mind clear at all times. Razvan, I am sorry I hurt you with the image of him, but it is my protection.»

He wrapped her braid around his fist but he remained silent, drawing in breath, matching the rhythm of his heart to hers.

«When I work with his spells, Razvan, it is dangerous. I cannot tell you how dangerous. You said you were not good with spells. Well, I am, but to be so, I have to form the words in my head, conjure up the images to go with them, and I cannot make any mistakes when I am working with his spells.»

He took another deep breath, visibly fighting to get his control back. «I still do not understand.»

She gestured around the room. «This is my fortress. Solid rock. He cannot come here. He cannot trace me through the solid rock, but if I make a mistake, if I forget for one moment who and what I am dealing with, then I make myself vulnerable.»

He frowned. «Even here?»

«He is utterly evil. The first line says it all. 'The mage walks forth as the Hell Gate closes.' He is not entirely earthly. He has visited hell and returned, needing the blood of others to survive.»

His frown deepened. «I lived with him for hundreds of years. He is evil, yes, but he is not a demon. He is mage.»

She nodded. «Yes, he is mage. There is always a balance in the universe. Where there is good, there must also be evil. One can use the earth's natural elements to weave for good. It is done all the time for healing and other things our people need. One can also weave spells for evil, calling upon demons and bargaining with them.»

«I know that he does that. I have seen foul creatures in his caverns, but I have never seen portals to another world or another realm that even a mage can walk through.»

«No, I am certain he would not be foolish enough to allow anyone to know what happened. He wants to appear all-powerful to everyone-even to himself. He needs that illusion. As far as I can tell, as far back as when I attended his school, he was using apprentices to write spells and then he used those spells as the base for his own. He can no longer come up with new spells, I am certain of it. Each mage has a rhythm, a twist in how they cast and what they use, a signature, if you will. Xavier's spells cover a multitude of other mage's spells.»

Razvan ran agitated hands over his face and then through his streaked hair. «What else have you learned by studying him?»

She ran her hand down his arm to soothe him. «I know it is disturbing to speak of him.»

The feeling of her fingers on his skin shook him. As long as he lived, he would never get over the wonder that she had been chosen for him. «Your description fits him so well. I lived with him and thought I knew him better than anyone living, yet . . .» He gestured toward the book and her flowing, obviously offensive words. «Yet you managed to convey the very essence of him.»

«I hope you are right, Razvan. I am staking both our lives on this.» She took his hand and tugged until he followed her out of the room. They sank into the chairs in the memory room. «I have to know you are with me on this, Razvan. It will not be easy and I cannot have you hesitate when we confront him.»

He leaned back in the chair and regarded her steadily. «You never have to worry that I would hesitate. We are in this together. It is my choice. I made it when you asked me to live. I knew then we would go after him.»

She allowed herself a sigh of relief. She shouldn't have doubted him. He had the courage to be whatever she needed. He found no shame in following her lead. No hesitation in accepting their destiny. He was more of a man than any other she knew.

«You know what I think, Razvan? I believe Xavier has to find another body. He was not merely possessing you, leaving pieces behind in you to stay in control. I believe he was looking for a host body and a way to enter it, to claim it completely and make the body his own. He wanted to be Carpathian. You were born with Dragonseeker blood running in your veins, known to be one of the most powerful lineages, if not the most powerful. He coveted that bloodline. That is why he went after Rhiannon. And that is why he drank the blood of her children and grandchildren. He craves a body from the Dragonseeker bloodline.»

«No Dragonseeker has ever turned.» There was no pride in his voice. It was merely a statement. «I would not allow him to make me the first.»

She smiled at him, her smile lifting him back from the shadowy place that he had dropped into. «No, you did not. And you saved all of us. No one will know what you did, but I know, Razvan. If he had acquired a Dragonseeker body as was his goal, there is no way to judge the harm he would have done.»

He took her hand, played with her fingers, shaking his head a bit. «It is my stubbornness.»

«It is your immeasurable courage,» she corrected. «It is not as if anyone could have endured as you did.»

He brought her fingers to his mouth and bit gently. «You will make me blush.»

She doubted that. He had no ego. None. He simply accepted his life and lived in the moment, focusing his entire attention on what he was doing and giving his best to whatever task was at hand. She did a little blushing thinking of how he focused so completely on her when they made love. Nothing else was in his mind but giving her pleasure. It was an intoxicating, exhilarating experience, and one she was already addicted to. She lost herself in him so completely, and found herself wanting to give him that same complete focus.

«My entry in that diary is the formula with which we will defeat him.»

Everything in him stilled. «We are going to bait a trap.»

She kept her eyes steadily on his. «Yes, we are. He needs a body. And he needs heart's blood. Dragonseeker blood.»

«You are going to ask me to put myself in his hands once again.»

His voice was strictly neutral and his mind was firmly closed to hers. Her heart contracted. There was no expression. No condemnation. No judgment whatsoever. He merely waited her answer, his fingers still on hers. Sometimes, like now, his courage terrified her. His belief in her shocked her.

«You would put yourself into his hands if I asked you to, wouldn't you?» she said, her stomach knotting.

«Yes.»

She shook her head. «I could not ever conceive of putting you anywhere near where that evil mage could get his hands on you.»

For the first time he stirred and something crossed his face so swiftly she couldn't quite catch it, but it made her nervous. «Just what or who is the bait?»

«I now have Dragonseeker blood running in my veins. When I open them and leave tracks, he will be unable to resist. I am a woman and he will think me easily controlled.»

He sat back in his chair, his lips drawn into a tight, implacable line. Tiny embers smoldered in the depths of his eyes, but again, he went silent-waiting.

«I have thought this through, Razvan,» she hastily explained. «It is all there. He will come for me, darkly handsome, taking your form, using his mind to draw me to him. He will want to seduce me, and he will open his arms to bring me in close to him.»

«No.»

«You know I am right. This is the way.»

«No.» Razvan rose and called to the pack. «I am taking the wolves running. Would you care to join us?»

«We need to discuss this.»

«There is no discussion. Are you coming?» He moved away from her with swift, long strides, snapping his fingers and calling to the pack.

Ivory stood for a long moment, unsure whether to be angry or happy that he would be so protective. No one had wanted to protect her, not since she was a young girl and her brothers and the De La Cruz family had surrounded her with love. Ten men doting on her had made her feel like a princess-a smothered one at times, but still a princess. Razvan had gone through so much with Xavier. He just needed to get used to the idea.

She was astonished when she saw him spread his arms as she did, and Blaez and Rikki leapt onto his back, merging into his skins as tattoos. For one moment she found herself a little upset. The pack had never been divided. They were her family.

«The pack is not divided,» Razvan said. «We are a family.»

He was back to his usual calm. Matter-of-fact. Or maybe he always had been. Even saying an adamant no to her, he had not raised his voice or sounded upset, just implacable.

She nodded in agreement. «Yes, we are. It is a good thing for both of us to carry the wolves. They will guard our backs.»

He flashed a small, tentative grin, removing the years from his face until he looked almost boyish. «It is amazing to be so accepted by them.»