He swallowed, the breath slamming out of his lungs in a long groan of sheer pleasure. “That’s it, that’s what I want, but a little faster.” His hands guided her into a faster rhythm. His voice turned hoarse and raw. “A little harder.”
Branislava laughed softly, throwing her head back, letting the fiery sensations take her. She rose again, riding him now, a harder, faster rhythm, just as he preferred.
“This is where you belong,” he declared. “Me, inside of you. You surrounding me. Locked together just like this.”
She felt like she belonged. She loved the way his body impaled hers, stretching her so deliciously, just skimming that edge of pain, but not quite, just sheer pleasure streaking through her body with every stroke.
He began to move her body with his enormous strength as his breath hissed out of his lungs, his hands urgent and hard, bringing her body up and down so that her ride was blissfully wild. Branislava closed her eyes, and let her head fall back, let his harsh pace consume her, take her to another realm, where there was only the two of them. Only this.
There was a sense of total belonging, not imprisonment. She craved him, desired him and even needed him, but there was such an awareness of freedom. He made her feel as if she could soar through the skies unfettered, at any time. He made her feel beautiful and sexy. He made her feel no other woman would ever do for him—only her.
His body moved in hers and a surge of electricity charged through her so that every nerve ending burst into life. Her world narrowed until there was only Zev and the way they fit together, the way he moved like a piston, the hard pace that sent streaks of fire rushing through her bloodstream and centering in her deepest core.
Zev urged her into a wilder, faster pace, his hands hard on her hips, as he thrust into her over and over. She rode him with abandon, floating in a dream world of pure feeling. Once again the ground beneath them heated as if the combination of the two of them drew magma up from the very depths. Her skin grew hot, as did his, and around them the mist glowed that strange red orange.
“How can you be so scorching hot?” he asked. “Silken fire gripping me in a tight fist.”
She reveled in the wonder and raw desire in his voice. She loved that she made him feel this way, the same amazing way he made her feel. She rode him at a furious, fiery pace, and when he leaned forward to lick at her breast, the fire that had been building and building, crowned, exploding through her with tremendous force, taking him with her.
For a moment the edges around her vision went red with flames. She felt them licking over her skin like a thousand hot tongues. She circled his neck with her arms and leaned against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it, Zev, but when I’m with you like this, every bad thing in my life is gone. You wipe it away, so that for these precious moments, I’m a clean slate and the only thing written there is your name.”
“That’s an extraordinary thing to say to me,” Zev said. “Thank you.”
She turned her face into his neck. “I thought, once we were out of the ice caves, that we would never have to deal with anything as evil as Xavier ever again.”
Zev’s hand slid up her back, pressing her closer to him. There was intimacy in his touch, but in a comforting way. His fingers reached the nape of her neck and began a slow massage. He didn’t say anything, and she was grateful. It was important to tell him the things she needed to while she had the chance.
“I’m not naïve. I know the problems facing our people, so I was prepared for hard times, although a war with the Lycans might have been more than I ever considered. Still, I know I could handle it.”
Branislava rubbed her face back and forth in the warm space between his neck and shoulder. He smelled masculine and strong and right then, when her fears began to resurface, she needed him.
“Mage-shadowing is truly evil, Zev. The mage can access his victim at any time and force compliance. Often the victim is worn down over time, especially if their will is strong, as in the case of my nephew, Razvan, until they’re weak and confused. The mage strikes them then and can force them to do things completely against everything they believe in.”
“I don’t understand the difference between a splinter and a shadow.”
“Xavier used a splinter of himself in Razvan so that he was living inside of Razvan’s body, but a shadow is an actual portal for the mage to travel through. The splinter can leave the body at any time and seek another host. Few leave a splinter of themselves behind for any length of time because there is a danger to the maker, should the splinter be found and destroyed. A shadow is a doorway to be accessed at any time. The risk of discovery is very small and one can build in all sorts of traps.”
Branislava slowly sat up. A small shiver went through her body when the action caused friction against her most sensitive spot. “I’d much rather stay here for the rest of the night with you, locked together like this, but we have to go back.”
He sighed and ran his hand down the back of her head, caressing the silky braid. “Fen is having trouble keeping Tatijana from looking for you,” he admitted. “She wanted to follow you and make certain you were all right.”
Branislava nodded her head several times, but made no move to get off his lap. If anything, she tightened the muscles surrounding him as if she could hold him to her forever. “I did leave rather abruptly. That poor man. Damon. I guess I shouldn’t have ruined his coffee. I can’t imagine what he thinks I found in him.”
“What did you find?”
Her entire body shuddered. She pressed her lips together and looked around her as if she might spot an enemy spying on them. Very gently she used his shoulders to pull herself up, a little reluctantly, but she did it.
“I’ll tell you when we’re back at the house. Not out here. Not in the open.”
Zev didn’t press her. She looked scared. Whatever she had found in Damon’s brain had been traumatizing enough to send her flying into the night. She needed to work it out herself and come to terms with it before she faced everyone.
“I suppose this means you’re going to get dressed.” He changed the subject, using a sulky tone, hoping to use amusement to distance her mind from the trauma.
“I think it best,” she said, giving him a look from under her long lashes.
“I don’t. Maybe you could just stand there for a few minutes and let me admire you.” He was already clean and fully clothed, back in his normal everyday ready-for-combat clothes.
She smiled, shaking her head. “Your appetite is insatiable.”
“I’m a wolf, what did you expect?” He bared his teeth at her, looking hungry all over again. “My appetite for you is insatiable. It’s my sincere desire to ensure that every time we make love you are so enraptured and captivated by my expertise that you can’t wait for the next time, because, believe me mon chaton féroce, there will be many, many next times.”
Her laughter was genuine, and her bare breasts, rising and falling with her breath, drew his attention like a magnet. He reached out to cup her left breast and leaned forward to draw her exquisitely soft mound into the heat of his mouth. She laughed again and this time, tried to insert her hand between his mouth and her breast. He growled, refusing to relinquish his prize.
“You are a very bad wolf,” she declared sternly. “Let go.”
It’s mine.
“I know, but you can’t be so greedy. We have to go back and I need to get dressed.”
I can give you another orgasm just like this. It will be good practice. His tongue flicked and danced. His teeth tugged and rolled. He suckled strongly. He could feel her instant heat, the flush in her body. Honey and cinnamon permeated the air.
“I’m sure you can,” Branislava said firmly. “But don’t. And you don’t need any more practice. If you get any better at sex we’ll both spontaneously combust. It will happen, Zev, and it will be all your fault. We’re lucky we didn’t burn down the forest.”
He gave one last lick along h
er nipple, savoring the way her body shivered in reaction, before he straightened. “I plan on practicing quite often, Branka. Every rising. Two or three times a rising. Maybe more. Wolves need to be fed, and you can’t let them get bored. Taking on a wolf is a full-time proposition.”
“Tatijana never said she had this much trouble with Fen,” Branislava declared, waving her hand to cover her body with her flowing dress.
Zev bared his teeth at her. “But then I’m the alpha elite, aren’t I?”
9
Branislava curled her fingers tightly inside of Zev’s hand. She was grateful to him for following her wishes to the letter. He didn’t ask her questions, he simply did as she asked. The heat, so deep beneath the ground, wrapped her in a cocoon of safety. Ordinarily, a cave would have been her last choice for such a meeting, but the sacred cave of warriors was the only place she could think of that a mage could not possibly overhear.
She could taste fear in her mouth, a horrible, coppery tang she couldn’t quite rid herself of. Tension knotted her belly and left her feeling shaky. She tried to follow the rhythm of Zev’s steady lungs, breathing in and out and portraying confidence to those gathering at her request.
Somehow, Zev had gotten everyone to leave their home without her having to say more than she thought it was possible to help Damon the next rising, but they had to prepare. No one had questioned her too closely, although Tatijana had known the truth. Their eyes had met and she saw knowledge there, but like Branislava, Tatijana had remained steadfastly silent. Both refused to give name to evil where they resided.
“Bronnie,” Mikhail said softly, “Gregori has completed all safeguards as you asked.”
Gregori joined the tight circle, there in the cave of warriors, seating himself beside the prince. “Damon is safe as well. He can do no harm to us,” he added.
“Daciana, Makoce and Lykaon are close and all three are acting as normal as possible under the circumstances,” Fen told her. He kept his arm around Tatijana, keeping her close beneath the protection of his shoulder.
“Tell us what has disturbed you,” Mikhail prompted. “Why you asked for these cautions to be taken.”
Branislava touched her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Skyler and Dimitri sat directly across from her in their circle of power. Skyler had drawn a protection circle around them, just to be safe. The chamber had been cleansed as well, but still, her heart pounded and her mouth stayed dry.
“Tatijana and I were held captive our entire lives up until two years ago,” Branislava said. “Most of that time, Xavier kept us inside the ice wall, in the form of dragons. We could see and hear everything that he did. It’s impossible to tell you how difficult it was to see him bring in victim after victim and systematically destroy them. We could see every spell he cast. Essentially, we were his students, although he certainly never considered that we might be learning as we watched.”
She glanced at her sister. Tatijana’s eyes were downcast. The memories of those endless, horrific years lay heavy on both of them. The dark time was too close, and both wanted to push the shadows away.
Immediately the candles in the sconces blazed into life, illuminating the room. Zev’s hand moved to her thigh in a gesture of comfort. His fingers splayed wide, wrapping halfway around her leg, as if gluing himself to her. His strength gave her added courage. She was grateful to him for providing added light. Evil sought darkness and shadow, slipping through those avenues to commit ugly deeds.
The sound of water seemed overly loud in the large chamber. The stalactites and stalagmites were ominously silent, so that the carved faces of the ancients appeared somber and staring. She shivered as her heart thundered in her ears.
“To think that one man could commit such evil over so many centuries is beyond comprehension,” Branislava said, her voice dropping lower. “While Xavier was the face of the mages, the man befriending Carpathians and betraying them, he was not alone in his plans to become immortal.”
Mikhail turned his head toward Gregori. They exchanged a long look, as if perhaps her revelation did not come as a huge surprise. Neither responded aloud, allowing her to give them information at her own pace.
Branislava wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Naming evil, uttering its name, can bring it to you. We learned that long ago.” She looked at her sister and there was fear in her eyes. “There were three of us born to our mother. Soren, Tatijana and me.”
Gregori’s head went up, as if scenting danger, his silver eyes slashing through her growing terror.
“There were three of you,” he hissed softly. “The bloodline of the High Mage.”
Branislava nodded her head slowly.
I call to thee with in mind the three,
I feed your life blood, three must be.
Children of air, earth, fire and sea,
I call you into our world to be.
She whispered the words. “Xavier manipulated the birth of triplets, ensuring Rhiannon, my mother, would continue the bloodline of the High Mage. But we were not the first triplets born into the mage line.”
“So Xavier is one of three,” Mikhail said, letting out his breath. “Triplets.”
Branislava nodded again. “That secret was kept beyond all others. They were identical in every way. They moved alike and talked in the same voice. They were rarely seen together and never where others might discover the secret. It allowed them to be in more than one place at a time, or provide an alibi should someone accuse Xavier of evildoing.”
“Which is why no one discovered he was the one who had killed Rhiannon’s lifemate,” Fen said. “He was able to keep her prisoner for so long because so many Carpathians swore he was teaching them a class in safeguards when the murder and kidnapping took place.”
Mikhail leaned toward Branislava, his dark eyes on her face. “Why did you not tell us of this threat immediately? The moment you were rescued?”
Branislava couldn’t look away from those penetrating eyes. Her breath came out in a long rush. “Xavier killed them. Both of his brothers. He killed them like he killed Soren. He was obsessed with blood and the power of it.”
She turned to look at Zev, her voice dropping another octave, as if whispering would prevent evil from hearing. “All three were on a quest for Dark Blood. At that time we didn’t realize it was a bloodline. They believed that anyone possessing Dark Blood could build an army of soldiers that would be invincible. But they never found what they were looking for.”
“Perhaps they did,” Mikhail mused aloud. “Fen, you and Dimitri ran into more than one Sange rau you believed had been newly made. It is possible someone has or had access to Carpathian blood and is using it to create their own superior soldiers.”
“So one targets the Carpathian species to bring them down while another goes after the Lycan species,” Gregori said. “The third must have gone after the Jaguars.”
Branislava nodded slowly. “We believed them to be dead,” she reiterated. “We believed Xavier killed his brothers for his own purposes.”
“Did you see them actually die?” Fen asked.
Branislava nodded. “Xavier cast a spell with one of them, his brother, Xaviero. They were working on a dark spell to enslave the living. They took blood from us to fill the ceremonial chalice.”
She rubbed her arm where the faint slashes laced up and down her forearm and wrist as if the wounds were open and throbbing. Tatijana mirrored her actions.
Zev gently took her arm and rubbed his palm in long, caressing strokes over the faded marks in her soft skin.
Branislava touched her tongue to her dry lips. “They both drank from the chalice. Xaviero even saluted us with the jeweled cup.” She swallowed hard, a small shudder running through her body. “He had this way of smirking at us that was terrible. We knew when he looked like that, he was going to do what he loved best . . .” She trailed off.
Zev immediately surrounded her with warmth and wrapped her up in love. Deliberately, she allowed herself to loo
k up at him. He was strong and comforting. Good. A decent and honorable man. The memories of Xavier, Xaviero and their brother Xayvion left her sick inside. Sometimes she felt she might never get the memories of true evil out of her mind, but being with Zev certainly allowed her to distance them.
“What was that?” Gregori prompted. “What did he love best?”
“Hurting others. He was very depraved. Much worse than Xavier or Xayvion.” Branislava pressed her lips together tightly. “He liked keeping his victims alive and toying with them for hours, even days. Man, woman or child, it didn’t matter. And like Xavier, he loved an audience.” She pressed her hand to her mouth, feeling sick. “I can’t talk about him anymore. I can’t think about this.”
“I’m sorry,” Gregori apologized immediately. “It isn’t necessary. I think, judging from your reaction, we don’t need or want the details.”
Immediately there was a current of soothing warmth swirling through the chamber. She took a deep breath and nodded gratefully at the prince’s protector.
“You said that Xavier and Xaviero drank your blood from a jeweled chalice,” Mikhail prompted. “What happened next?”
“While Xaviero gave us his horrible smirk, Xavier stood beside him with the ceremonial knife in his hand. There was no warning at all, he just turned and plunged it into Xaviero’s heart. We both saw him do it.”
“What happened to Xaviero?” Dimitri prompted when she fell silent. “What did Xavier do with the body?”
She rubbed her eyes, trying to recall every detail. “There was vapor rising from the floor, like a dense cloud. I remember it because it was beautiful, about four feet off the pristine ice, curling up in these little, intricate, almost lacy patterns.”
“Was that a natural phenomenon, or something they created during this ceremony?” Dimitri asked.
Tatijana and Branislava exchanged a frown. The incident had taken place centuries earlier. Both had tried to forget as much as possible. To deliberately recall memories of evil was daunting. Their minds retreated, trying to aid them.
Dark Blood (Dark Series Book 26) Page 16