without beat of heart, without airy breath .
Ot élidamet andam szabadon élidadér—I offer freely my life for your life .
O jelä sielam jorem ot ainamet és soŋe ot élidadet—My spirit of light forgets my body and enters your body .
O jelä sielam pukta kinn minden szelemeket belső—My spirit of light sends all the dark spirits within fleeing without .
Pajńak o susu hanyet és o nyelv nyálamet sielametsívadabat—I press the earth of our homeland and the spit of my tongue into your soulheart .
Vii, o verim so ŋ e o verid andam—At last, I give you my blood for your blood .
Weary, Ivory closed her eyes. She dared not give him more blood than she was able. One healing session and one feeding was not going to be nearly enough. A week, a month . . . time mattered little, but she would heal him. For now, she’d done all that she could do.
Find peace, Dragonseeker .
Pressing her hand to his mouth, she whispered for him to stop before placing him in the deep, rich loam of her bed. Calling to her pack, she signaled them to take their places around her lifemate—claimed or not—and she pressed close to him before allowing the dark soil to engulf them, her protections around their bedchamber the strongest she knew.
3
T he search for Razvan had been intense over the past three weeks. Ivory crouched below the snow-covered slope, raising herself just enough to study the forest beneath her. She couldn’t see anything, but the wind had shifted enough on its own to bring her the scent of blood and death. Along with that scent came the soft sobbing of a child.
She had been careful to feed far from her lair, but then her travels had taken her closer to the Carpathian world where Mikhail Dubrinsky, the prince of the Carpathian people, and his legendary guard, Gregori, made their homes. There seemed to be far more Carpathians than the last time she’d been this close. That meant, when she hunted for food enough to feed her pack, she had to avoid not only vampires, Xavier and his servants, but the hunters as well.
She knew the vampires and Xavier searched for Razvan. They had visited the cabin where she’d fed from the human in the forest, but, thankfully, the human had been long gone. The stench of vampire remained in the cabin, and fortunately the vampires were unable to track her. They found the spot where Razvan had fallen. Footprints circled the area and the foul stench of vampire radiated from that central spot for days before they’d moved on.
She’d made certain neither she nor her pack set foot on the ground close to her lair after that. She’d even resorted to visiting the village to bring rich blood back to feed Razvan, barely rousing him, healing him each night and keeping his mind free of the damaging images and memories that haunted and tormented him. If, after he was at full strength and fully healed, he chose to meet the dawn, she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t stop him a second time. But night after night, holding him in her arms and singing the healing chant, her blood flowing into him, she knew it would be difficult to let him go. She would though. She would set him free, with no guilt, because saving him had been her choice. Staying to help her defeat Xavier had to be his.
The child’s cry drew her attention back to the forest below her. Why hadn’t an adult answered that distress call? What kind of parents would leave a young one to the dangers of a snow-covered wood at night? Even the villagers crossed themselves, hung garlic and crosses in the windows and over doors, believing in the persistent rumors of the undead walking the night.
She sank back on her heels. She didn’t do children. She hadn’t even held a baby, not once in her entire life cycle. She couldn’t remember interacting with children when she was younger— before —in the before. If a child saw her in her true form, especially a Carpathian child used to the perfection of form, the child might run from her.
She
Ot élidamet andam szabadon élidadér—I offer freely my life for your life .
O jelä sielam jorem ot ainamet és soŋe ot élidadet—My spirit of light forgets my body and enters your body .
O jelä sielam pukta kinn minden szelemeket belső—My spirit of light sends all the dark spirits within fleeing without .
Pajńak o susu hanyet és o nyelv nyálamet sielametsívadabat—I press the earth of our homeland and the spit of my tongue into your soulheart .
Vii, o verim so ŋ e o verid andam—At last, I give you my blood for your blood .
Weary, Ivory closed her eyes. She dared not give him more blood than she was able. One healing session and one feeding was not going to be nearly enough. A week, a month . . . time mattered little, but she would heal him. For now, she’d done all that she could do.
Find peace, Dragonseeker .
Pressing her hand to his mouth, she whispered for him to stop before placing him in the deep, rich loam of her bed. Calling to her pack, she signaled them to take their places around her lifemate—claimed or not—and she pressed close to him before allowing the dark soil to engulf them, her protections around their bedchamber the strongest she knew.
3
T he search for Razvan had been intense over the past three weeks. Ivory crouched below the snow-covered slope, raising herself just enough to study the forest beneath her. She couldn’t see anything, but the wind had shifted enough on its own to bring her the scent of blood and death. Along with that scent came the soft sobbing of a child.
She had been careful to feed far from her lair, but then her travels had taken her closer to the Carpathian world where Mikhail Dubrinsky, the prince of the Carpathian people, and his legendary guard, Gregori, made their homes. There seemed to be far more Carpathians than the last time she’d been this close. That meant, when she hunted for food enough to feed her pack, she had to avoid not only vampires, Xavier and his servants, but the hunters as well.
She knew the vampires and Xavier searched for Razvan. They had visited the cabin where she’d fed from the human in the forest, but, thankfully, the human had been long gone. The stench of vampire remained in the cabin, and fortunately the vampires were unable to track her. They found the spot where Razvan had fallen. Footprints circled the area and the foul stench of vampire radiated from that central spot for days before they’d moved on.
She’d made certain neither she nor her pack set foot on the ground close to her lair after that. She’d even resorted to visiting the village to bring rich blood back to feed Razvan, barely rousing him, healing him each night and keeping his mind free of the damaging images and memories that haunted and tormented him. If, after he was at full strength and fully healed, he chose to meet the dawn, she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t stop him a second time. But night after night, holding him in her arms and singing the healing chant, her blood flowing into him, she knew it would be difficult to let him go. She would though. She would set him free, with no guilt, because saving him had been her choice. Staying to help her defeat Xavier had to be his.
The child’s cry drew her attention back to the forest below her. Why hadn’t an adult answered that distress call? What kind of parents would leave a young one to the dangers of a snow-covered wood at night? Even the villagers crossed themselves, hung garlic and crosses in the windows and over doors, believing in the persistent rumors of the undead walking the night.
She sank back on her heels. She didn’t do children. She hadn’t even held a baby, not once in her entire life cycle. She couldn’t remember interacting with children when she was younger— before —in the before. If a child saw her in her true form, especially a Carpathian child used to the perfection of form, the child might run from her.
She
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