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,
hän ku vigyáz 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.
12
R
azvan 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.”