She’d fascinated him from the first moment he’d seen her determined limp up the icy mountain pass and his fascination had grown into something much more binding since then.
She didn’t need protecting from a wolf who loved her. She didn’t need shielding from a curse they could face together.
The sword simply recognized a soul-to-soul connection that would have been forged if she’d been a baker with a warrior’s heart and he’d been a chimney sweep with a wolf’s teeth.
It was that savage love that finally broke through his last reservations about claiming their connection. Not a timid one. Not a gentle one. But a love that accepted and freed the part of him he’d always thought he needed to deny.
As he stood frozen in place by Grigori’s power, the alpha wolf inside of him no longer threatened to consume his humanity. When the witch held her close and licked the tears from her cheek, there was only one man the black wolf intended to consume.
* * *
The floor began to shake beneath their feet. It was Grigori’s turn to hold on. He gripped her tightly and looked around to ascertain who had so rudely interrupted his gross celebration. Elena thought she knew. She wasn’t distracted by the Volkhvy who had begun to move around them as if they slowly woke from a trance. Her eyes were drawn to only one place in the cavernous ballroom.
The last Romanov had been the first to break from Grigori’s powerful spell.
He had somehow managed to begin the shift while she was flickering in and out of the Ether. The chandeliers swayed now. Wax rained down in hot, fragrant spatters and the candlelight jumped crazily all over the walls. Romanov had completed the shift while she endured the slick brush of Grigori’s tongue.
She’d glimpsed the final moments of his transformation, but it wasn’t horrible to her. The change from human to wolf was beautiful compared to the sucking emptiness of Ether in Grigori’s eyes.
The black wolf was surrounded by hundreds of Volkhvy who were eager to kill him. But the roar of his first howl violently shattered thousands of crystals above their heads. Broken glass tinkled down like a sudden ice storm. Elena shielded her eyes against the dangerous dust as others ran and screamed.
It was one thing to fantasize about killing a legend. It was another to suddenly face him.
“You’re going to die,” Elena said. She whispered the words. They weren’t for the black wolf.
Because the sapphire stone had blazed into glorious life.
The candlelight had been mostly snuffed out by the chandeliers’ destruction. A few flames still flickered here and there. The bright blue glow from the gem in her sword was vivid against the shadows. Even more so when she jerked away from her captor and freed the blade. The Romanov sword. Her sword. Because she was the black wolf’s mate. The sword had called her and she’d been brave enough to claim it.
And now the legendary shifter claimed her in return.
Her sword had never blazed so brightly. Grigori backed away from her. His hands were held up defensively as she advanced. But she was momentarily distracted by the Light Volkhvy queen. Vasilisa stood behind the black wolf as he met attack after attack. Her back was to his tail, and Elena recognized the defensive strategy she’d been taught. The queen was helping Romanov against Dark Volkhvy as they came for his head. Energy shone from her hands and her lips moved with words Elena couldn’t hear.
Grigori tried to take advantage of her distraction. He stepped forward as if he would grab her again. She knew it would be a mistake to allow his touch. He was too connected to the Ether. He’d learned to use it even as it ate away at him inside. He’d been too greedy for power and for the pain of others.
He’d danced at the edge of the Ether, but now it could have all of him, with her compliments.
Elena pressed the tip of her blade to Grigori’s throat and he froze. She didn’t need a magic spell to make him freeze. She had a warrior’s heart. Another howl ripped through the air and Elena saw the Dark Volkhvy king go down under the black wolf’s attack in a torrent of black blood. A few of the Light Volkhvy had fallen before they realized the intent of their queen. Now, they fought against the Dark witches rather than the black wolf. With the king’s death and Grigori’s capture, the Dark Volkhvy began to disband.
From outside the ballroom, Elena heard more screams and growls. Reinforcements had arrived. Her endless fall had stopped, but her insides were still hollow. Lev probably wasn’t fit to fight and Soren wasn’t as big and strong as his alpha brother. He was quick and clever. Much faster and brighter than the brightest natural wolf. But he risked his life to fight on her behalf.
“If Queen Vasilisa hadn’t decided to stand with the black wolf, you wouldn’t have stood a chance,” Grigori hissed. As he spoke, his throat moved an infinitesimal amount, but ribbons of black blood trickled down his feathered neck as a result of the unrelenting pressure from her sword. She didn’t waver. His eyes were still completely black. She was certain he couldn’t change that. The Ether dance had taken him over an edge he’d skirted for too long.
“I don’t stand with the black wolf. I stand with my warriors. I always have,” the queen said as she approached. She was covered in steaming blood too black to be her own. It sullied her perfect gown, but she was regal still.
“If you stand with me, then you stand with my mate. You can’t separate us in your affections,” Elena said.
The queen paused, brought up short by the intensity of Elena’s declaration. Then she resumed her steps.
“It wasn’t until the sword called you that I began to understand my mistake,” Vasilisa said. “I’ll never forgive Vladimir for his savagery, but he and I are the only ones to blame.”
“Too late. Far too late. You hurt the ones who loved you the most,” Elena said. “Madeline and the baby...”
“All is not as it seems,” Vasilisa replied. “But there’ll be time for explanations after we deal with this Dark prince.”
Grigori had lowered his hands. He stood with them fisted at his sides as his blood continued to soak into his shirt and coat. He didn’t cringe when the black wolf reappeared from the corridor where he had chased after the escaping horde. The arched double doors were barely big enough to allow him to enter without ducking his head. To Elena’s relief, he was followed by a red shadow and then a white. His brothers flanked him on either side as he stalked into the room.
And a smaller figure in green.
“Bell,” Elena breathed. She tightened her grip on the sword when Grigori attempted to turn.
The other woman was wearing the green gown. It fitted to her curves and revealed that her petite size was no indication of her age or maturity. Elena had been right. Bell had loved the dress that had been made for her long ago. She must have decided to wear it to the Gathering in hopes of waking the man in the red wolf she loved. Elena’s heart squeezed when she realized the dress was stained with black blood. Bell hadn’t arrived in time to dance before the fight. Now, she would never have the chance.
“Oh, I see. The red wolf has also inspired someone to stand for him,” Vasilisa said. She turned from the wolves to face Elena once more. “Vladimir was an aberration. He didn’t deserve the powers he was given. He abused them. I allowed his actions to blind me to the truth. I must stand with my wolves and the women who love them. We all must continue to stand against the Dark.”
“Together,” Elena said. She said it to the approaching wolves and to Bell, who had paused halfway across the room as if she didn’t deserve to approach the queen. There was no fear in her face. Only resignation. Elena didn’t know what had become of the third sword, and it wasn’t her place to determine which woman it would call to stand with Soren.
But she did know who had been standing with him for centuries. The resourceful orphan stood now as if at a loss on how to proceed. She was more used to devoted service than fighting witches, but she’d been fighting the Ethe
r all along. Bell was a survivor and more importantly she helped others survive. There was no finer quality in a warrior than that.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t linger,” Grigori suddenly interrupted. “I have no interest in meeting your black wolf. Goodbye, my swan. I’ll see you in your dreams.” Elena thrust with her sword, but it was too late. The man with Ether in his eyes had slipped easily into the vacuum. His body disintegrated from the head down, and her move met nothing but particles of dried blood left to float away in the air.
But the black wolf was more practiced with the Ether than she was. He knew to pounce for the witchblood prince’s feet. Elena shouted a warning, but it didn’t stop Romanov from clamping his teeth down over Grigori’s boots before they, too, began to disappear.
Elena’s horrified gaze met a familiar pair of emerald eyes. Her lover, her Romanov, had leaped to grab the prince before he could escape into the Ether. Had he known he would be taken into the vacuum Grigori manipulated at will? As the mighty wolf’s black body disintegrated into the air and disappeared, Elena screamed.
Chapter 23
The tip of her sword clanked onto the floor once it was no longer lodged in Grigori’s skin. Soren and Lev had leaped too late. They both whined and snuffled the floor where Grigori and the black wolf had stood. Lev limped, but he wasn’t slowed down by his injuries. He snuffled and whined as urgently as the red wolf. Maybe more.
“He warned me how bad the Ether was. I didn’t understand why he was so determined to spare me from it even if it meant losing himself,” Elena said.
“He’s strong. He’ll come back. He always does,” Bell said. She had run forward to catch Elena before she crumpled to the ground. The small servant was much stronger than she seemed. But Elena had known almost from the start. Like calls to like, and they had been fast friends because they saw each other better and more clearly than others saw them.
“I’m sorry. The Ether is seductive. The Light Volkhvy resist its allure. I used it to curse Bronwal. This is all my fault,” Vasilisa said.
“You always wear purple. It’s the color of mourning. Who do you mourn, my queen? You didn’t do this because Vladimir betrayed you. There’s a secret behind your greatest pain. One deeper than your love for Vladimir Romanov,” Elena said. She leaned against Bell. Her friend took her weight without protest.
The queen looked from Elena to Bell and back again. But then her gaze was drawn to the petite servant in green silk. Her eyes traced the bellflowers embroidered onto the stained gown.
“Vladimir killed my daughter, Anna. I had placed her with a mortal family for her protection. I knew something was wrong. Vladimir had begun to act strangely. I was afraid he would betray me, and I wanted her well away from danger. But I never imagined my greatest champion would murder a Light Volkhvy princess in cold blood,” Vasilisa said. “He destroyed the whole village of Sovkra. No one survived. It wasn’t until then that I realized he might have killed my consort, as well. My prince died in the same battle as Vladimir’s wife. The Dark Volkhvy had managed to surround them and the gray wolf never reinforced them.” Tears streamed down her perfect pale cheeks. “I didn’t know. I turned to him for comfort only to receive an even greater betrayal.” And still she didn’t blink or look away from the bellflowers on Bell’s dress.
“He didn’t kill your daughter,” Elena said. Anna’s story was too similar to Bell’s to be a coincidence. Sovkra had been Bell’s home. It was only the ending of the tale that Vasilisa had gotten wrong. She straightened. Bell’s hands had fallen away from her shoulders.
“No,” Bell said. “It isn’t true.”
The curse had traumatized Bell for centuries. The queen was the devil in her eyes. No better than Grigori was to Elena. A tormentor. A horror.
Her eyes tracked the movements of the red wolf as they always did. But, at her agonized denial, he stopped and stared. He whined. Elena reached out to Bell as her friend’s face petrified into a look of disbelief.
“He didn’t kill your Anna,” Elena said. “He brought her to Bronwal. Maybe he thought her presence would shield them from your wrath once you knew he’d betrayed you. He didn’t stop to think that you might not know she’d survived his attack on the village.”
“Dark witches killed my family. The gray wolf saved me,” Bell said.
Soren whined. He took one step toward the girl he’d protected for centuries.
“The gray wolf killed them all. He didn’t save you. He kidnapped you,” Elena said. The puzzle was finally complete. “Vladimir was darker than the darkest witch.” She looked at Soren when she said it. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. He risked you all for a power grab that failed. He killed his wife, Naomi, and the prince consort by delivering them to the Dark Volkhvy king and then refusing to come to their aid during the battle. He seduced Vasilisa. She was vulnerable. She had lost her warrior, her husband and the father of her child. But when she began to suspect Vladimir wasn’t what he seemed, he kidnapped the baby she’d hidden. The only reason he didn’t kill Anna was that he thought he could use her. When his whole plan failed, he gave himself to the Ether rather than face the consequences of what he’d done.”
“My...daughter?” Queen Vasilisa said. “I remember the fields of bellflowers. It seemed a safe place, a happy place to shelter her.”
She reached for Bell, but the shocked girl jerked away. She stumbled back from Elena’s supportive grasp and from her mother.
“I could never forgive Vladimir for murdering my daughter. Even when I realized I needed to free his sons from my wrath. Now, the curse is broken. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Vasilisa cried.
“I put on this dress because I wanted to claim a place in Bronwal. I’ve been an orphan and a servant most of my life. Scrambling to survive. But I was wrong about needing to claim a place. I had a place. And a wolf by my side,” Bell said.
Soren had backed away from them. His legs were spread wide and, when Bell took several steps toward him, he growled deep and low. Lev limped to join him. His ferocity had always been tempered by Soren’s civility. Now, his growl rumbled up from his chest to join with the red wolf’s. Both of them looked fully capable of turning on the Light witches they’d been fighting for seconds ago.
“She can’t help who her mother is any more than you can help who your father was,” Elena said. But the red wolf didn’t relent, and Bell lowered her hand.
“I didn’t know,” Vasilisa said.
“But you did know that abusing the Ether’s power was wrong,” Elena said. “And you sacrificed Madeline and Trevor because you thought Vladimir had killed your baby.”
“No,” the queen said. She blinked and pulled her attention from her daughter. “They have been protected from the Ether all this time. They sleep on my island home. I protected her and her baby even though I thought no one protected me and mine.”
“Madeline isn’t gone,” Bell said. She spoke as if she begged the red wolf to hear her, but Soren and Lev had edged farther and farther away from the witches their animal instincts obviously warned them not to trust. They were almost out the door and Bell couldn’t follow. Not when both wolves had their teeth bared against her. But she held back from her mother. She stood, all alone, deserted by her wolf and claimed by a Light Volkhvy queen. Elena wondered if Bell would ever feel at home at Bronwal again now that she knew the truth. Or if the others would welcome her, as a princess, or at all.
“Romanov should be back by now. Where is he?” Elena suddenly asked. Long minutes had passed since the black wolf had disappeared into the Ether. She couldn’t follow him. She didn’t know how. Like Lev, she was left to watch and wait for her love to return.
“Grigori was nearly consumed. I saw the Ether in his eyes. The only way he could have defeated Romanov was to devour him in the vacuum. He would have to sacrifice his life to kill the wolf,” the queen said.
“He would do it to hurt m
e,” Elena said. “If he can’t have me, he would destroy me instead.”
The sapphire in her sword still glowed. It was the only sign that she had any hope of seeing Romanov again. She refused to sheath it. The Light Volkhvy were tending to their injured and sending the dead into the Ether. Elena looked away from their rituals and their pain. The Dark Volkhvy had all vanished without ritual. They had fled, leaving their dead and injured behind. Those that had been left disintegrated. Either they traveled through the Ether to the place they called home or they were consumed.
Elena didn’t care.
She waited for the black wolf to return with her sword drawn and ready.
Romanov couldn’t disappear. Not when their connection was finally causing the sapphire to shine, brilliant and strong.
Even though secrets, revelations and reunions took place all around her, her attention was riveted on the spot where the black wolf and Grigori had disappeared. No one tried to move her. They wouldn’t have dared. She was finally the warrior who truly wielded the sapphire sword.
And she would watch and wait for her mate to return for an eternity if need be.
She willed him back to her with every beat of her heart and every breath that passed through her slightly parted lips.
When the air wavered in front of her eyes, she raised the sword. But instead of the black wolf she expected, it was Ivan Romanov who appeared. He held a struggling Grigori with his powerful hands clasped around the witch’s chest from behind. The witchblood prince had a black viscous liquid running down his cheeks from his obsidian eyes. Elena didn’t think it was blood. She thought the energy from the Ether had filled him to the brim and now it overflowed. He screamed and cursed incoherently as he fought the man who held him.
“I brought him back to you,” Romanov said. His legs were widely braced and his muscles bulged, but it wasn’t physical power that he fought against. Grigori was weaker in muscles and form. It was the Ether. Grigori caused them to flicker in and out of existence as he’d caused Elena to do during their dance. It was the disintegration Romanov fought. Tendons strained in his neck and his jaw was clenched. He spoke through clenched teeth. “I was wrong. When I saw him torturing you with the Ether, I knew that standing between you and the sword’s call was wrong. I will stand with you forever, as the black wolf and as a man, but you must fight this fight. He is your demon to slay.”
Legendary Shifter Page 24
