by Gaja J. Kos
With a roar, he then pushed off the ground, Kalen joining him as they soared high, already searching for the next location the pack had instructed them to visit.
Evelin followed their flight with intrigue, observing the grace and strength of the leathery wings against the backdrop of the sky. She had been stunned when Rorik had first shown her his true form on the outskirts of Zagreb, and tried her best not to gawk at every subsequent change. But against such imposing beauty, there was little she could do but cherish the sight. Her heart seemed to beat faster every time the dragons took flight—every time she caught the glimmer of their colorful scales and intricate ridges…
She had known of the supernatural her entire life, yet in the presence of the Perelesnyks, she felt like an enamored human, drinking in every bit of the magnificence that had only ever existed in her mind.
Chuckling lightly, she turned her attention on the firefighters who closed in on the burning remains. They doused the flames with jets of water, while a few members of Tristan’s pack lingered close by in case any of the vamps had miraculously survived the destruction. So far, none had.
“If you don’t need me any longer, I’ll drive up to the next lair,” she said to Emil.
The young officer in charge of the current site—and one of the individuals who had been thrilled to discover the existence of the supernatural—offered her a smile. “I think we’ve got this covered. You go on ahead.”
Returning the smile, Evelin pushed past the line of police cars and stalked towards the lot where she left the pickup truck. A part of her still resented that she had been put on overseeing duty while everyone else was hitting the lairs Katja had mapped out with the help of Rose’s higher knowledge, but she understood she needed to conserve her strength. After all, this was only the vamps that they were going after.
The Upirs, she knew, would come after that.
And they would demand a whole lot more than mere flames and fangs to rip them from this world.
Lost in thought, she turned a corner and all but rammed into a massive wall of honed, bronze muscles. Sander’s strong hands steadied her, his gaze locking onto hers even as she fought off the shock.
First the shock of nearly crashing into him.
Then the shock of him.
Emotions boiled inside her, growing too turbulent to contain. She hadn’t seen Sander since the attack, hadn’t as much as spoken to the warlock who had saved her.
With a small sob, she stood up on her toes and threw her arms around the Koldun’s neck, letting her gesture convey what her voice was too weak to form into words. The stiffness fled from Sander’s body when she showed no intention of letting go, and gradually, the warmth of his touch snaked around her back as he returned the embrace.
Evelin bathed in the heat of his skin, in the healthy thrumming of his heart that seemed to reverberate through her flesh, calming down the erratic beating of her own.
Silly. It was silly to cry.
And yet the tears just kept on coming.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything.”
The Koldun pulled back, lifting her chin with a single finger. “I do not require gratitude for something I have done of my own desire, Evelin.”
Her breath hitched at how her name sounded on his lips, at how deeply his words pierced her.
“But I am grateful,” she managed to say, gazing up at the striking bronze of his eyes.
His thumb brushed against her skin in a light, fleeting gesture that stole away a tear before he dropped his arm to his side, his chiseled face once more unreadable.
“I gather the hunt goes well?”
“As far as weeding out the numbers goes, yes.” She rubbed her hands down her arms to fight away the light chill not even Sander’s bubble of spring had the strength to chase away.
“You fear what follows?” he asked softly.
Evelin let out a strangled laugh. “I’d be a fool not to. These vamps”—she waved at the smoke clouding the air—“are just cannon fodder. The rest of them are still in hiding. Along with the Upirs.”
The barest hint of a smile tugged at Sander’s mouth, somehow making his lips even more sensual. More dangerous, too. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I came bearing good news. The Kolduny are ready. All that’s left is for you to give the signal.”
Chapter 35
Beads of water were still trailing down Rose’s naked body when she walked out of the bathroom with only one destination in mind.
The cool, silken sheets of Veles’s bed boded her to nestle in their embrace, but even more so, she yearned for the proximity of the man tangled within their decadent grip. She could taste the magnetic presence of his energy in the air, every nerve in her body coming to life with the desire to lose herself in it. In him.
The god’s appreciative gaze swept over her as she approached with a gentle sway to her hips, and she gave him all the time he wished to drink in what she so willingly offered, while she explored his own silent gift to her.
Her breath faltered at how handsome Veles was, resting so languidly on the bed, his sun-kissed skin and dark hair in stunning harmony with the silken midnight blue and gold backdrop of the sheets. Homage to her, as always.
His arms were tucked behind his head, exposing the flat, chiseled plane of his abdomen and his powerful thighs—a reminder of just how thoroughly he could trap her in the heat of his skin and the hardness of his muscles. All that power, devoted only to keeping her pinned beneath the hard frame of his body as her mind shattered under the rolling, explosive weight of pleasure he delivered with every thrust of his hips.
Gold flared in her eyes before she could control it, and an utterly male smile curled up Veles’s lips in response.
In invitation, too.
She crawled across the mattress and straddled his hips. Close, but not quite touching. Veles’s expression darkened with hunger—a look so carnal it tightened her nipples and sent a shudder of yearning through her, so strong she almost crushed that final sliver of space still keeping them separated. But she noticed the traces of fatigue lining the corners of his eyes, the lines speaking of the harsh reality not even the strongest lust could chase away.
Months of practice, of careful training, yet entering Duševje still wore Veles out.
And the options they were exploring with Morana as the Trinity, a union of their respective powers, made some things easier, others infinitely harder.
Although more than a little reluctant, she crawled off Veles and stretched her naked body next to his, instead, trying—and failing—not to think of anything beyond the confines of these walls.
“Srček,” he purred, “don’t tell me you’re passing up the chance for a night of excitement.”
Her laughter was soft, her fingers trailing down the honed expanse of his chest. Still all too tempting. “It’s a huge sacrifice, trust me. But we have an early start tomorrow, and you, dearest lord of the underworld, have to rest.”
Veles cocked an eyebrow. “Are you babying me, Rosalind?”
She nipped at his shoulder with slightly elongated teeth. “I can hardly baby you when you have more than a millennia on me. But”—she smiled up at him—“I am aware of your tendency to put pleasure of the flesh above all else.”
Desire flared in his eyes, the black rims bleeding into the stunning olive. “Coming from someone who suffers the same condition, I must say the warning is serious.”
His voice traveled down her body like a phantom caress, teasing, exploring, and capturing her so completely she hadn’t even noticed when something far more substantial replaced its touch. She shuddered as Veles traced the side of her breast with his fingertips, then slowly encircled her nipple. Once. Twice.
“Veles,” she warned, but he was already guiding his hand lower, playing with the curve of her waist before his fingers slid down all the way to the slick, aching vee between her thighs.
Her moan transformed into a plea as a mischievous smile bloomed on hi
s face, so deliciously fueled by satisfaction of knowing just what he did to her. Over and over again.
He always did love watching her react. And she loved watching him watch her.
There was something intimate, something binding in this voyeurism they shared, and it only enflamed her further.
“We’ve done well today, Rosalind. The Perelesnyks, the pack, us…” His fingers teased, taunted, yet didn’t reach where she wanted him the most. “I will not let such an achievement go by without at least a little celebration.”
Some small, rational part of her wanted to protest—it truly did—but the pleasure of his touch rendered her helpless. And it wasn’t as if he were wrong.
They had done well.
With the help of those fragments of the higher knowledge pertaining to the vampiric souls, she and Katja had been able to pinpoint an impressive amount of lairs and locations where the vampires were hiding. And the general uproar the revelation of the supernatural had caused had not only given them a smokescreen to attack the vampires, but the freedom to do so in their true forms, without fear of being hunted.
It was one of those rare days at which she could look back with almost a kind of silent pride, even if they were still a long way from the final victory.
A stirring of need snatched her away from her thoughts.
She met Veles’s gaze, met the excitement burning within those dark rims as his fingers pushed apart her sensitive folds, then dipped ever so slightly into her tight, silken sheath. She moaned as heat coiled low in her stomach, as her energy danced beneath her skin, calling out to its consort. As was her very soul.
Their lips met in an explosion of hunger and passion, the taste of him ensnaring her mind until she forgot about reason, forgot about everything but the warm, captivating presence of her god, the touch of his fingers between her thighs, and the feel of his mouth capturing hers so thoroughly.
His eyes were nothing but embers of black and green, a testimony to his determination and need to have her right now, not even a single breath later.
And she agreed.
Chernobog damn her, but she agreed.
A plea shaped into Veles’s name tore itself from her lips, and he pushed off the mattress to cover her body with the lean, honed length of his. He nudged her legs apart with one knee, all the while his gaze drinking in her exposed, naked form, the raw desire she saw etched in the chiseled lines of his face obliterating what little control she still had.
He was stunning.
He was power and beauty and a hint of danger, combined into a deadly combination that made her ache with the yearning to be claimed. To give herself to something so wild. To someone so pure.
Hers.
But the god took his time. He cherished every inch of her body with his lips, his hands, as well as the vines of olive-tinted energy that wrapped around her, bringing her to that very edge where she thought the electric anticipation just might break that single thread still tethering her to this world. Only he never let her go that far.
Just as she wanted to beg him to end his sweet torment, the god buried himself inside her. The hard, thick length of him filled her completely, golden light flaring as she screamed, her voice entwining with his long, low groan. They moved as one, his steady thrusts relentless as he grew even larger inside her, shattering her body, her very mind with the hunger flaring only for her.
She trailed her clawed fingers down his back, thin, crimson lines marking the god as hers and urging him to go faster. Harder. To cast them both into the oblivion of pleasure only they could offer one another.
His rhythm broke then, and he swore, sending echoes of his voice to ripple across her skin and play with her hard, aching nipples. A moan rose in her throat, but just as she felt him throb with the promise of release, he moved like a storm, lifting her off the mattress in a single, swift move, and trapped her in his embrace. He pierced her deeper, merging their bodies so tightly Rose didn’t know where one left off and the other began.
Yet even that was nothing—nothing compared to the explosion of ecstasy that engulfed the very essence of her being as his fangs brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck, then broke through it, tasting her far more intimately than anyone ever could.
The rush of her orgasm took her in violent, uncontainable waves, her own pleasure stealing away Veles’s control and throwing him right over the edge with her. His body shuddered as he spilled inside her, and together they fell back onto the mattress, enveloped in each other’s warmth and the promise of what they were fighting for.
Eternity.
Chapter 36
Ljubljana’s streets were perfectly silent, a kind of haunting serenity lingering in the cool air, touched by a gentle scent of pine weaving from the surrounding hills.
Sander stood on the roof of the old skyscraper, an elegant landmark of the city rising from the very heart of the capital, and watched the first slithers of dawn break the satin veil of the night sky. He had had doubts about the plan, doubts about the capabilities of the pack and their allies, human and supernatural alike. And yet, the all-encompassing quiet of the town spoke volumes.
The police, as well as the werewolves and vampires who had joined the cause, had succeeded in doing the impossible while the others were busy infiltrating the minor lairs. They had evacuated the city.
He sensed no innocent human life within the dark buildings or the labyrinth of streets below. What pulsing threads remained belonged to those who stayed to fight and possessed the means to hold their own against forces even as powerful as the ones they would be facing all too soon. Equipped with amulets Nathaniel, Rorik, and the Kolduny had manufactured, they could withstand the magic—if not the physical strength of their adversaries. And for them, that had been motivation enough.
A sneer caught the corners of his lips. His own people had been content to cower while humans—humans—decided to partake in the battle where tendrils of the underworld waited so greedily for them at every turn.
Trailing his gaze across the spill of colors tainting the sky with the promise of dawn, Sander released his anger.
In the end, the Kolduny had bent to his will. And they were waiting on the perimeter of the town, right on the verge between the ghostly streets and those that harbored the citizens the allies had been able to sneak out.
Although move was a better word for yesterday’s stint.
He didn’t think for a moment that their maneuvers had escaped the vampires’ or the Upirs’ notice. While the city-wide evacuation had been done covertly in small, unobtrusive groups, and the actions had been shielded first by the attacks, then the cover of darkness, it was impossible for anyone to completely hide transporting such a sheer mass of people.
Or the quiet that followed, making Ljubljana far more beautiful than Sander had ever seen it before.
But the bastards’ knowledge didn’t matter now. They hadn’t struck yesterday, and today they would not have that option. A touch of a cold smile lay on his lips.
No, they would certainly not have that option.
As a lone ray of light brushed against his skin with the warmth of a new day, Sander closed his eyes and transformed his body into a beacon. Magic erupted from the deepest well of his core, enveloping street after street as it spread, with him as its unyielding epicenter. The spring-touched power swept across the river, seeping into its dark, languid waves as easily as it permeated the air, the buildings, travelling until it met Serafina’s own blend, coming in from the other side of town. The two magics entwined and saturated the newborn morning until every atom of Ljubljana’s existence carried its silent call.
As the power reached farther out, Sander felt the brush of the barrier his coven erected around the city to keep any strays from entering—and those resting within the town from escaping its elegant roll.
With the thought of Rafael in his mind and the image of the emerald-eyed wolf etched in his heart, Sander let his magic grow as strongly and as swiftly as the rising sun cl
imbed the horizon.
When the warm glow lay upon the rooftops and cascaded down the streets, the calm broke.
Snarls and curses echoed below, creating a melody of the death Ljubljana would taste. Sander laughed. He laughed as he embraced the change—or end—the day would have no choice but to deliver.
Zarja lingered on the northern side of an office-filled building, her dark fur blending with the remnants of shadows dawn had yet to dispel. Magic filled her nostrils, the now familiar signatures of Sander and Serafina a clear, powerful thread woven within the call they had released.
Going in, she hadn’t known the full extent of the Kolduny’s power, hadn’t even imagined they could wield the elements in such a way. And yet she felt it, felt the shift in the atmosphere, the urge embedded in the very particles she inhaled, aimed at those who sought death through the crimson spill of blood.
The summons left no ground uncovered; the pack confirmed as much through the bond. But more than their words, the scents she picked up herself testified to the efficiency of the magic.
The unmistakable hint of vampire rode the air, the components of the smell carrying imprints of all the individuals, who were forced to leave the confines of their lairs.
A low, silent growl vibrated in her chest as the touch of humanity rubbed against her senses, then transformed with a ripple of power into a stench she knew would be etched into the walls of her memory until death whisked them away.
Upir.
Almost as if guided by a higher force, she locked onto the scent, feeling her heritage, that flicker of Svantovid’s essence buried within her flesh, flame to life. She didn’t shy away from the blaze of violence warming her blood and urging her to kill; nor did she fear the gentle waves of death, curving between the buildings.
These were circumstances in which she could thrive—a gift, liberating her from the shackles placed upon her true nature.
And Zarja accepted it as such.
“I never believed I would see this world again,” Morana said softly as she, Veles, and Rose stood on the northern edge of the perimeter, the wall of Kolduny magic behind them and the battlefield-to-be stretching out front. “But the dreams lived on within me, a light, painful presence that kept me company in the solitude of my banishment, making every day feel as if it lasted for ages.” A sad smile touched her lips. “Yet I would have gladly withered in isolation if my confinement could spare you from this.” She waved a hand towards the city, towards the streets laced with power and the low thrumming of war.
