Legendary Shifter

by Barbara J. Hancock

  She followed a trail that had been broken in the deep snow. It led to a thick evergreen wood on the west side of the wall. Evergreen. Romanov’s scent was her only clue besides the beaten pathway. Once she stepped into the forest’s shadows, she was able to walk with less effort. The ground had been protected from most of the snow. It was barely dusted with white. Frozen pine needles crunched under her boots, and above her a heavy, frozen canopy of white blocked out the sun.

  Would she find the wolf or the man or nothing at all?

  Or would the white wolf find her first?

  Elena heard something besides her own footsteps. She paused and the forest fell quiet. She drew the sword from the sheath at her side. The sound of metal rasping against leather was loud in the silent wood. Had it been her imagination or a breeze around the trees? No birds sang. No rodents stirred. For long, breathless seconds it seemed she was alone.

  Wolves were predators and the shadows were deep. Lev could very easily creep up behind her and she’d never know until he pounced. Elena spun around, betraying her fear with her sudden movement. But there was no one there.

  “Romanov,” she shouted. It came out quieter than she would have liked. Fear compressed her lungs. She couldn’t draw enough air to propel the call from her tight chest. She wouldn’t go back without him. If he hadn’t disappeared into the Ether, she would find him. She would face the black wolf or the man.

  A sound much farther in the distance disturbed the silence. She barely heard it over the pounding of her heart, but it sounded like animals fighting. She heard growls, barks, then the sharp yelp of a canine in pain. The noise was too far away to be the noise she’d heard moments before, but that was explained as Soren melted into sight from the evergreen shadows.

  He came to her side showing no fear of her drawn sword. Like her, his ears pricked at the sounds of fighting. He looked up at her and then toward the distant melee.

  “Did you follow me outside the walls or did you follow your brother?” Elena asked.

  Soren simply blinked before he bolted deeper into the woods. Elena followed. She had told Romanov that she was a warrior. She had yet to prove it to him or to herself. Soren howled and picked up speed when more yelps rang out. Elena followed as fast as she could run on the uneven ground. She was glad that she didn’t have to run through the snow. She would never have kept up. As it was, she relied on the sounds of the fight to guide her whenever Soren slipped out of sight. And yet he was always waiting for her when she came around a rise or a bend. He would take off again only when he was sure she saw and followed.

  He was purposefully leading her to the fight.

  They burst out of the woods into a sudden dazzling glare of sunlight. But Soren halted at the edge of the clearing they found, and her forward momentum was stopped by his giant body. He stood sideways, barring her passage. The pause gave her eyes time to adjust and her mind to comprehend what they’d found.

  A huge pack of natural wolves had Lev surrounded. They’d bloodied him until his fur was splattered with scarlet. The snow was trampled and pink around him. He was an enchanted shifter, twice their size and preternaturally ferocious, but there were dozens of wolves trying to kill him. Elena’s hands tightened on the hilt of her sword.

  They would have succeeded already if Lev hadn’t received reinforcement. Romanov was the cause of the yelps they’d heard. He hadn’t shifted. He was still a man, but he wasn’t an ordinary man. He wore his fur-capped cloak and brandished a sword. He cut down every wolf that leaped for his throat, one after another.

  While he slashed, he yelled curses at the white wolf and the red. The white wolf for seeking annihilation. The red for endangering her life by leading her here.

  Romanov was the one surrounded by a vicious pack of hungry wolves trying to kill him and his brother. But he worried about her joining the fray. Elena quietly spoke to the red wolf that stood in her way.

  “I am his partner. Whether he has accepted that yet or not. The sword has chosen. And I have chosen. Now get out of my way,” she said.

  She didn’t have magic to help her. She only had muscles and determination. They were all she’d ever needed. She ran into the clearing easily, glad that the fight had already flattened the snow. If she died, she would die by her lover’s side, by her own choice and because of her own actions whether Romanov liked it or not.

  Soren ran with her. He didn’t try to stop her again. He outpaced her in a flash and leaped over the fallen wolf bodies to land beside Lev. There were fewer wolves than Lev had had to face alone. Soren made fewer wolves still with his wicked teeth and claws.

  Elena went to Romanov. He was an incredible sight. All fury and fight and righteous anger over her and Soren’s disobedience to his will. She ignored his rage and did what she had to do. Slashing and stabbing until the wolves in between her and Romanov began to give way.

  Then she saw Romanov’s eyes. They blazed nearly black even in the sun. His curses were more like howls and his fighting wasn’t smooth. His wolf was close to the surface. As close as it could be without the shift. She was certain of it. In spite of her desperation to keep the wolves from her own throat, she spoke to Romanov.

  “Shift if you must, but not because of me. I don’t need the black wolf anymore. I need you.”

  Suddenly, more wolves came from the forest. One, two, a dozen more ran to join the fight. The movement called her attention to the edge of the wood. There were half a dozen men standing there. They stared at the clearing where the fight raged on. She’d been wrong. The wolves weren’t behaving as natural wolves would behave. These were multiple packs joined together by enchantment.

  “Is this Vasilisa’s work? Are those her men?” Elena shouted. She had made it to Romanov’s side, and now they turned to press their backs together as he’d taught her to do when they’d practiced in the courtyard together. She was small, but she used his size and strength to her advantage, bracing off him to shoulder the attacks against her.

  “This is the work of the Dark Volkhvy. Several have banded together to attack us. They lured Lev into the woods. If I hadn’t been keeping an eye on him, he would have gone down. He didn’t even begin to fight until I arrived,” Romanov shouted. His voice vibrated against her. “And you’ve brought them the sword they seek.”

  “They may pry it out of my cold, dead hands,” Elena said. Adrenaline caused the words to come out as a laugh from deep in her frozen middle. The wolves had shredded the edges of her scarlet cape as they continued to attack, but so far she had managed to keep their teeth away from her skin. The edges of the cape fluttered in the winter wind.

  “The shift isn’t pretty to witness. Do not turn around,” Romanov ordered. This time Elena obeyed. Not because she was squeamish about his abilities. She couldn’t divide her attention from the wolves that attacked to see what he intended to do.

  She already knew.

  He’d risked the shift to try to frighten her away from the sword.

  Now he would risk the shift to protect her and his brothers against the Volkhvy.

  She’d been a fool to think he would escape into the Ether and leave them to face the Gathering alone. He would stand as long as he could. It would be the shift or the Volkhvy that would take him in the end. He would never give up.

  She would bet her life that the black wolf would continue to stand as Bronwal’s champion even when every ounce of his humanity was gone.

  His shift happened behind her back. She could only feel the trembling earth beneath her feet, and then her body was shaken with the force of the black wolf’s howl. The lesser Volkhvy’s enchantment of the pack couldn’t stand against the alpha wolf’s presence. Dozens of wolves had piled onto Romanov’s form as he’d fallen to the ground during his transformation. Elena whirled in time to see the pile explode away from the black wolf in all directions as he rose to his feet.

  The wolves and the Volkhv
y who controlled them ran at the sudden appearance of the powerful black wolf. Elena couldn’t blame them. Her knees went weak and she had to tighten her fingers around the hilt of her sword. She took in the aftermath as she ordered her own feet to stay planted right where they were, no running away allowed.

  Lev was down. His white coat was covered in blood. But Soren had protected him. The red wolf stood over the white wolf. Soren’s sides heaved and he, too, was speckled with damp splotches of blood.

  Elena could only spare the two wolves a glance before her gaze was drawn back to the black wolf. He approached her. She stood her ground. She lowered the sapphire sword. He was still Romanov and he wasn’t her enemy. He stopped in front of her and without a pause she lifted one hand up to cup his mighty jaw. He blinked at her, but he didn’t jerk away. He allowed her touch. He even briefly rested his muzzle in her palm.

  And then he spun away and called to his brothers with an ear-splitting howl. Only Soren could obey. Lev wasn’t able to get to his feet. The black wolf ran toward the spot where the Dark Volkhvy had thought to watch their bewitched pack kill the weakest of the Romanov brothers. They hadn’t counted on Soren, Ivan and Elena showing up to defend Lev. The witches had disappeared into the trees, but Elena had no doubt the black wolf would hunt them down.

  She turned to make her way over to Lev’s side. He was alert and breathing. He whined as she approached, but he didn’t get to his feet.

  “Did you really take on that pack alone? Contemplating suicide, are you? As if Romanov would ever let you go. He’s determined to save us all. Even if it kills him,” Elena said. She stabbed her sword into the ground and began to rip the scarlet cloak into bandages to bind the worst of the white wolf’s wounds. He was enchanted. Surely he would heal. He growled once or twice but she ignored it. Her heart was full of a warm sense of sisterhood. Lev had been the mate of the woman who had wielded the ruby sword. Helping him was the least she could do. Even if he threatened to bite off her hands.

  * * *

  Soren returned with a team of servants to carry Lev back into the castle. They came prepared with a wooden sled pulled by Soren himself. His power was evident in the way he effortlessly brought the heavy sled, even through the forest where the pine needles formed the only track for its curved treads.

  Elena didn’t ask about Romanov. She would find out soon enough if he was lost to the wolf. For now, she could only trudge back to the castle behind the sled. She refused to add to its weight. She had made it through the entire fight without a single injury. Her silk cloak was shredded and her snowsuit’s downy insulation spilled from several tears that would have been gruesome if the thick material hadn’t protected her skin.

  But she was unscathed.

  Except for the shaking. She allowed one of the servants who had returned with Soren and the sled to place a blanket around her shoulders. Shock was settling in as adrenaline faded away. She was shaken by the violence and Lev’s injuries and by the evidence of Ivan Romanov’s abilities. She’d seen him as the black wolf. She’d seen his intelligence shine from the black wolf’s eyes. But this was the first time she’d seen the black wolf shine from his even before he shifted.

  It was the first time she’d felt the power of his shift. It seemed as if the quaking of the earth was still with her.

  And it was another first, as well. She loved him, wolf and all. Not in spite of his ferocity, but because of it. Perhaps she was still looking for the black wolf after all.

  * * *

  Ivan tended his wounds alone. The shift had taken care of many of his injuries, and he would heal quickly from those that didn’t entirely disappear. Even though he had shifted back to his human form, he could still feel the tentative touch of Elena’s hand. She hadn’t cringed away from him. She had been afraid, but she’d still extended her fingers. He’d been eager to hunt down the Dark witches, but he’d paused for her touch. He’d taken that moment to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Remarkably, she hadn’t suffered a single bite. She faced down a pack of cursed wild wolves and she’d done it with the Romanov blade gripped perfectly in her hand.

  It hadn’t glowed. Even as they’d fought together, the stone had stayed cold and dark.

  He should be happy about that. He’d succeeded. He’d rejected their connection even though it was the most powerful force he’d ever felt. Why did he feel as if it was a mistake? If Elena stayed free of the Ether, then he would have saved her from a torment he could barely withstand. Others were more easily consumed.

  Yet he’d seen her face so much, time and time again, with incredible strength and fortitude. It would be a lie to say that he still believed the Ether would take her easily. She would stand. He was certain of it.

  If he chose to continue to stand against the Ether alone, it wasn’t to protect Elena from a trial she couldn’t face, but, rather, a trial she shouldn’t have to face.

  This was a Romanov burden. One he would continue to shoulder alone. He would stay away from Elena. From a distance, he’d seen her follow the group of servants he’d sent to fetch Lev. She was fine. He didn’t need to hold her to prove it. He didn’t need to kiss her to celebrate their victory.

  The black wolf had taken care of the Dark witches with Soren’s help. That had been the only celebration he needed.

  But the wolf in his heart disagreed. It urged him with a primal need to hold his mate close after battle.

  * * *

  Elena saw Lev settled with Bell and several others attending him. Soren was close by if his brother became unruly. For now, the white wolf accepted the ministrations of his people.

  “His wounds will heal quickly. It takes a lot to bring him down, and he’s never down for long,” Bell said. She straightened from the bandages she had knotted carefully around one of Lev’s hind legs. She met Elena’s eyes. “This isn’t the first time he’s tried.”

  They both knew Bell was talking about Lev’s flirtation with death. Apparently, losing himself to the wolf wasn’t enough for him. Maybe even fading into the Ether wouldn’t stop his deep-seated grief. He must have loved his family very much to feel the pain of their loss so keenly even when he was no longer the man he’d been. He’d risked a bloody, painful death to end it.

  “Thank you for helping to save him,” Bell said. She glanced from Elena to the red wolf who stood a silent vigil in the far corner of the great room. The fire blazed and a makeshift bed had been made for Lev near enough to the hearth for warmth and light, but not near enough to overheat him as he healed. The direction of her attention quickly shifted back to Lev, but Elena still understood. Bell was grateful that Elena had helped Soren in order to prevent his sacrificing himself for Lev.

  “When I heeded the sapphire sword’s call, I chose to defend Bronwal and everyone in it,” Elena said. The sword was back in its sheath at her side. She’d cleansed its blade in the snow with an edge of her ruined cloak. Suddenly, she was very aware of her own aches and pains, as well as the wolf blood that had dried on her clothes.

  Always observant, Bell noticed her discomfort.

  “Go up to your room. I’ll send up some hot water,” she said.

  Elena wanted to refuse the extra trouble, but she didn’t have the will. Cleaning up would settle her shakes and get her away from the stares of the servants who had come to help with Lev. Besides, Romanov hadn’t made an appearance yet, but he was bound to check on his brother. She couldn’t face him yet. Not with trembling fingers and wobbly knees.

  The tower was dark and quiet even though the sun was still high outside. The fight had been over much sooner than it had seemed. There were still many hours left in the day before she had to worry about the sun going down and the possibility that Grigori might return.

  Elena unfastened the cloak and allowed the ruined red silk to fall to the ground. She kicked it to the side. She unbuckled her belt and laid the sword on the foot of her bed. She hadn’t been injur
ed, but it took a close look to see the blood on her clothes wasn’t hers. Maybe that’s why the servants stared when they carried several buckets of water to the tub that stood by the fireplace.

  While Elena waited to remove the rest of her clothes, Patrice arrived with a small bar of soap and a large linen cloth. She placed them on the edge of the wooden tub and then she leaned over to stir and wake the coals in the fireplace. She added two oak logs to the embers.

  Elena was surprised to see her. The older servant had seemed to be becoming more and more addled as the Cycle wore on. But Lev’s injuries must have woken her from the walking dream she seemed to have retreated into.

  “Bell said that you saved the boys. She said Romanov wouldn’t have shifted except to protect you,” Patrice said.

  “Bell is wrong. Romanov will always protect his brothers and everyone in this castle. However he must,” Elena said.

  Patrice murmured in response, but Elena couldn’t make out her words. After a moment of clarity, it seemed as if the older woman was back to her dream. She walked out of the tower room without saying goodbye.

  And Elena was finally alone with a steaming tub.

  She pulled off her ruined clothes and threw them on the pile with the scarlet cloak. The logs Patrice had placed on the fire had caught. They crackled and burned and the room’s chill was softened, but not so much that the water didn’t beckon. She stepped into the water and sank down into its welcoming heat.

  The bar of soap Patrice had brought was lightly scented with evergreen. Elena breathed deeply as she lathered it up in her hands. It reminded her of the wintry wood, but also of Romanov’s skin. Her after-battle shakes were fading away.

  “I completely destroyed this door,” Romanov said from the threshold. It was an understatement. The bars were twisted and the door sagged to the side. He’d practically ripped it from its hinges to help her the night before.