by Gaja J. Kos
No, Vedmak blood should never have left its coven.
Yet Bogdan had loved Ileana enough to give her a child. And paid for it with his life.
Being a practitioner of the darker kind of magic hadn’t impaired Bogdan’s capability to love, to be good. Rose couldn’t imagine her mother loving someone who wasn’t. But she harbored no delusions about his brethren.
In their eyes—as well as in those of many others—she was an abomination. An unpredictable one, which made it all even worse.
Still, the supernatural community hadn’t yet realized where her power had come from. They would, someday. She was certain of it, but she was also adamant to remain a mystery for as long as she could.
The comforting touch of Veles’s warmth wrapped around her waist; she hadn’t even heard the god move. And by the subtly startled expression on Ileana’s face, Veles must have used his personal means of transportation to appear directly at Rose’s side.
Rose leaned into his body, feeling the waves of that olive-scented energy cascading down his ripped torso.
“They will find themselves inside my realm before the thought of harming Rosalind even fully materializes inside their puny minds.”
The icy words didn’t faze Ileana. She observed the lord of the underworld with calm eyes, finally bowing her head into a nod. Her gaze fell upon Rose, and Ileana’s features shifted from concern into determination. The black skirt that hung just over her knees swirled with her as she abruptly turned around and strode over to the antique desk.
“To enter, they will want blood,” Ileana said while she searched through the papers stacked at the very edge of the wooden surface. “Which means neither one of you can be the first to approach them.”
She turned around, her gaze darting between Veles and her daughter. The pair nodded obediently, and it took Rose all she had not to choke on the laughter she fought to keep suppressed. Seeing the alluring, self-assured god look like a kid receiving a lecture proved to be almost too much to handle. Especially since her mother was the one giving it.
But as Ileana drew a map from the pile of documents, all humorous thoughts faded from Rose’s mind.
She’d known for a while that there was no turning back. But seeing the immaculately drawn woods, the woods she knew no other map carried, made her breath catch.
“I have outlined the path to their sacred circle,” Ileana said, handing the chart over to Rose. “Once you reach the ward, it will need to taste blood to see if you’re harboring any ill intentions. The blood of one will speak for the group, but it will not give away your individual attributes.”
Rose frowned, gently biting her lip. She stared at the map in her rigid arms, then lifted her gaze to meet her mother’s eyes.
“What about the bond? We are linked to one another to the extent where one can’t die unless all of us do... And with the ability to pour some of my power into the other weres, I’m afraid that someone else’s blood won’t be able to hide what I am. The connection is too potent...”
This was the aspect Rose feared the most. Even if she let the weres approach the Kolduny without her, there was no guarantee the gifted blood wouldn’t give the sorcerers a glimpse into the pack’s bond.
Ileana didn’t answer; she didn’t need to. The shimmer of fear in her eyes confirmed Rose’s suspicion.
Fantastic... It’s not like we don’t get enough shit for being The Dark Ones. Rose scowled at the thought. No, their bodies have to be linked to my energy as well. Without any fucking means to tap into it, to use the power on their own. They just carry my mark. And a bull’s-eye on their backs...
A wisp of warm air brushed against Rose’s neck, snatching her from the slippery ground of brooding. Veles's energy wrapped her in a cocoon, effectively calming her mind.
“Didn’t your charming wolfish friend yearn for a part of the action?” the god purred, and even with her eyes closed, Rose could see the playful smile tugging at the sensual corners of his lips.
“And I’m doing this why?” Frank asked, a crimson line welling across his palm.
“Because we’ll buy you a beer afterwards.” Jens grinned. He patted the werewolf’s back and, in effect, pushed him closer to the boundary.
The eight of them were standing at the edge of a sunny clearing, the snow underneath their feet glistening in the afternoon light. Not wanting to make Veles’s means of transportation a habit or to expose him to the Kolduny, Rose gathered the weres the instant the god had beamed them from New York. She crammed five of them in her Land Rover Defender station wagon while Mark took Evelin and followed them in his Chevrolet Silverado.
Rose relished the drive from Ljubljana to the Gorenjska region, the highway uncharacteristically wide and scenic. Despite the numerous advantages of living in the city, the lack of opportunity—or convenience—to take her Defender out for a ride was a painful detriment. And even if their destination wasn’t pleasant, she swore to enjoy every minute of the ride.
The Kolduny’s sacred space was located in a forest only a short hike from Radovljica. The area was a well-liked destination for outdoor activities, but the numerous repellant wards the werewolves had passed before reaching the final boundary efficiently prevented any tourists from approaching it. The same wards that had also kept the area off human maps.
But Rose remembered the stories of sensitives, human individuals who—despite not having any of their own—were tuned to magic. Some had encountered the Kolduny. Without maps or instructions. As if some higher power had guided them through the untamed nature.
Just as she’d heard of supernaturals who failed to do so even with every step of the way written out for them.
The clearing could only be found if you knew where to go and did so with determination. It seemed that the pack had passed the test.
“Two beers.” Frank grinned back, coaxing a growling laugh from Jens.
He placed the palm of his hand on the cold surface of a boulder that stood guardian between the sun-dipped clearing and the shadowy woods, allowing the stone to sample the crimson liquid.
Frank’s blood flowed into the crevices, and the boulder drank it in like parched ground accepts rain, savoring it until no traces of the sanguine fluid were left behind.
Frank stepped back, observing the undisturbed stone surface, his blue-green eyes wide. “Now that’s just fucking weird.”
A sudden shift in atmosphere drew the werewolves’ attention to the woods that stretched beyond the boulder. With a faint glimmer, the veils of winter had begun to lift, giving way to the chirping of birds and the fragrances of spring.
Where a white winter landscape lay moments ago, an idyllic scene of blooming nature greeted them, its browns and greens bathed in potent gold sunlight.
“No, that’s just fucking weird,” Zarja murmured, unwilling to raise her voice as if she were afraid that a louder sound might break the illusion.
But it wasn’t an illusion. Rose knew.
Yet it didn’t make it any easier to wrap her mind around a warm oasis blossoming in the middle of winter. Ileana had told her the Kolduny were people of spring, but she couldn’t have fathomed the extent of bending the laws of nature to their will.
The sheer strength they must possess to maintain their sacred circle as it was chilled Rose’s blood.
She sighed. Fear wouldn’t help her now.
In pairs, the werewolves stepped across the transparent boundary, their warm winter coats suddenly becoming redundant. The air was devoid of any scent of magic, leading Rose to believe the Kolduny had, in fact, succeeded in preserving a fragment of spring inside their warded enclosure.
Fear reached for her again with its icy claws, but she forced it back, her eyes set upon the magnetic view.
As they pushed farther into the flourishing woods, Evelin peered over her shoulder, catching Rose’s attention.
“Where to now?”
Rose didn’t answer, merely tipped her head in the general direction to their right.
&nbs
p; Caught in the peculiarity and allure of the vernal pouch, the weres hadn’t noticed the slight shimmer of gold that reflected from the meticulously chiseled surfaces of two jagged boulders. The distinct cycling shapes, each with eight rays, and all of them arched at the top, marked the two rocks as the entryway.
“Kolovrat,” Evelin murmured, mesmerized by the glistening sigils of sun.
The werewolves approached the two Kolovrats that stood sentry carved into the massive stones. A faint hum of power came from their golden surfaces, brushing against their ears.
Almost as if the symbols were inviting them to follow the path that led beyond the boulders.
They hiked for another twenty-five minutes, wondering just how vast the Kolduny’s sacred ground was. Someone was bound to notice that there was a whole area of unexplored woods right in the middle of trails and mountains that masses of tourists visited every year. Someone should have noticed the distances between the locations set on the perimeter of the Kolduny’s territory were off.
Yet the knowledge of the Kolduny—or even some odd conspiracy theory about the inaccessible woods, about the woods that defied the laws of nature—never reached the wider population, their existence hidden from humans, and their location well warded off even from most of the supernaturals.
Rose wondered if the powerful children of spring bent the distances—maybe even dimensions, creating a pouch that rested on the surface of Earth yet wasn’t wholly there.
In a nutshell, the Kolduny were The Keepers’ poster boys for inconspicuous.
The trail led the werewolves uphill, finally ending in a circular glade. Eight trees stood on the border, positioned where the arched ends of the Kolovrat’s rays would have been, if the symbol had been laid across the grass.
The pack stood in formation, with Frank fitting in without any particular effort. The long-term friendship between the weres made them know each other’s preferences even outside the cozy walls of Pri Sojenicah.
Watching the tree line opposite them, a growl began to grow in Rose’s throat. She shoved it down before it managed to spill from her lips and into the warm breeze.
Friendly terms, Rose reminded herself, yet the tension in her muscles remained, her body vigilant.
Figures spilled from the trees, dressed in white and burlywood garbs, medleys of flowers woven into their hair. Nine. Eighteen. Twenty-seven. Some remained on the other side of the boundary, while the first nine stepped into the clearing, the lightweight fabric that flowed around their bodies dancing with the balmy currents.
Rose could sense the uneasiness nearly dripping from the rest of the werewolves, but they held their ground, their seemingly relaxed postures cloaking just how alert they truly were.
Unlike shapeshifters, witches and warlocks weren’t truly a part of the supernatural; they supposedly came from nature itself. And with the capability to bend its laws to their will, the practitioners became even more alienated than their origin had already marked them to be.
Yet in a way, they represented what the human race could have been if it hadn’t turned its back on nature.
They cherished the old ways, and the old ways rewarded them for their servitude.
Sunlight wrapped around the six women and three men as they progressed towards the center of the clearing, making them appear almost ethereal in the middle of the greenery.
A short, plump woman stepped forward from the rest of the Kolduny; her hips swayed with the movement, the airy white dress hugging and releasing the Koldunya’s curves in a gentle rhythm. Dark brown curls, embellished with roses, carnations, red poppies, chamomiles, and lilies complimented her deep blue eyes and the pink tint of her small mouth.
There was no denying that the Koldunya truly was a daughter of nature itself.
She smiled at the gathered werewolves. Her gaze fell upon each of them, tracing their features in detail before moving on to the next one. The Koldunya watched them for a while longer, only the chirping of birds cutting through the silence.
Finally, the dimples in her cheeks deepened as she regarded them as a whole anew.
“Hello, Dark Ones.”
Chapter 22
The werewolves stiffened, but the Koldunya’s words were spoken softly, invitingly. Whether their reputation as The Dark Ones preceded them or maybe it had somehow been Frank’s blood that had given them away, the enticing brown-haired woman didn’t seem to share the reservations the rest of the supernatural community harbored towards their pack.
“My name is Agata,” the Koldunya said with the same dimpled smile still resting on the soft lines of her face.
She tilted her head to the side, her arms opening in front of her body. The flowers woven in her hair swayed with the gesture as if some phantom wind caressed their petals.
The werewolves introduced themselves, although it quickly became apparent that the protocol was nothing more than a formality; the Koldunya’s knowledgeable blue gaze made it clear she had already known each name that sounded in the warm afternoon air.
“We came here in need of your help,” Evelin added, matching the soft tone of Agata’s voice.
The Koldunya nodded, motioning the eight behind her to approach. They glided across the clearing as if their feet barely touched the ground, and stopped only a few paces short of Agata, leaving the dark-haired Koldunya standing in front.
“You wish for us to protect your city.”
A gentle statement, yet spoken with caution.
“Only for one night,” Rose explained, coming to stand by Evelin’s side.
Ileana had warned her the Kolduny rarely offered their services to outsiders, the risk of exposure being too strong for them to even consider it during normal circumstances.
As it was, the situation was far from normal.
But despite the Koldunya’s warm reception, Rose didn’t feel like pushing their luck. Stating they came for only one small favor made the odds of it being granted better.
“Wolves have always been the protectors of Slavs. Especially those with coats like a moonless night. You seem capable of deterring the vampires on your own, Dark Ones,” a slender, almost boyish witch said from behind Agata, eying the werewolves with a calculating gaze.
Agata’s bare feet trod lightly on the grass as she approached them, yet didn’t close the distance completely. She looked at them with eyes like a summer’s sky—a look filled with intrigue and silent appreciation.
The Koldunya smiled. “You do not need our power of protection. You need us to buy you some time.”
Before they had the chance to reply, a Koldun tore himself away from the coven, gliding with unusual grace over to the werewolves. He passed the boyish witch, breaking the invisible boundary that had been established between the two groups.
His earthly smell wrapped around Rose. It filled her senses and alerted her of just how close the tall, muscular man truly was. A strand of tightly wound blond curls brushed against her neck, causing Rose’s whole body to lock with tension.
Slowly, the Koldun circled from behind her back, fixing her under the weight of his unnatural bronze gaze. Exposed, tanned muscles flexed as his fingers trailed the curve of Rose’s shoulder in a tentative caress, following the line of her coat all the way to her elbow, only the barest of touch still connecting them.
Rose swallowed, fighting the impulse to recoil.
“You tell us what you are, miška, and we’ll give you your protection,” the Koldun purred, his lips uplifted in a smile that sent several waves of chills crawling down Rose’s back with violent speed.
“Sander.”
The tone was gentle, yet the word held warning.
Rose’s gaze traced the sound to a voluptuous redheaded Koldunya, and saw the counsel reflected in the woman’s light green eyes.
Sander broke contact with Rose, but refused to step away. He circled around her like a shark. A bronze, muscular shark chiseled to perfection.
A weapon, Rose thought. Sander was a man honed into a weapon.
She wondered if the rest of his coven even knew of the potential locked deep inside him.
She wondered if Sander knew.
“Her energy is...familiar,” the Koldun said, cocking his head to the side. “Yet different.”
Even though the pack refrained from using the unique way of communication the bond granted them in the presence of witches, Rose was nonetheless painfully aware of how the werewolves tensed at the Koldun’s remark, their bodies immediately ridden with underlying aggression.
But Rose had warned them beforehand; they wouldn’t act on their impulses until she did.
Sander was fishing for information. He was right, of course. Even Rose felt the familiarity of their energies. But she wasn’t about to offer any information. She wouldn’t even let him know he had struck a nerve.
So she stood still, a mask of calmness concealing the terror within.
“Do not pry, Sander. It is unbecoming to negotiate with those who have come seeking for help.”
Sander shot a dirty look at the Koldunya, his shoulder-length blond curls swinging violently with the movement, casting away the few forget-me-nots that had rested tucked inside his hair.
Fitting, Rose thought, staring at the small blue flowers as they carelessly dropped to the ground. She certainly didn’t intend to forget this Koldun anytime soon.
“Maybe…” Sander circled around Rose, slowly, and once again came to stand in front of her; leaning in, his lips almost brushed the long line of her neck. “Maybe the wolf would give a favor freely, Serafina...”
The redhead clasped her hands in front of her body. It was something a mother would have done—standing in silence until the child calmed down, biding her time before delivering the final words. The words that would end the charade.
Her calm presence never faltered while she waited for Sander to play out his game.
“She belongs to Veles,” Serafina said after a few excruciatingly long moments.
A flash of fury rolled over Sander’s eyes, almost too quick to catch, before they reverted back to their entrancing bronze hue. The Koldun regarded Rose as if he was torn between attraction and disgust, not quite willing to let one prevail over the other.
