Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
When Vasilisa had first become aware that she was changing, that she was growing into something more, she had been terrified. Her natural inclination was to go to her brothers and confess, ask for their advice. She’d brought up the subject tentatively, and all three of her siblings had instantly voiced their opinions in loud, negative ways. She changed her mind about telling them when they spoke with such vehemence against the Sange rau.
Alone and frightened, Vasilisa waited to see if she suddenly developed murderous tendencies. When it didn’t happen, she wondered if women fared better than men. But there was Dimitri. He was Sange rau. The Carpathian community called them “guardians of all” in their own language. She didn’t think it made much difference what they were called. Only that some were murderers and some were protectors, just as Lycans and Carpathians could be both.
Olga continued to hurry through the forest on the now perfectly closed path of thick brush. Vasilisa and Afanasiv couldn’t afford to lose their prey, so they moved through the air above her about fifteen feet behind. Afanasiv shielded both of them from Olga and any others who might be watching. He did so automatically, not because Vasilisa was a woman or because he thought her not up to the task.
Why do you ask if Olga had one man in particular?
It was possible she wanted to bring him back from the dead. No one goes willingly to the underworld. She is there now by her choice, but to voluntarily go to serve, you have to make that choice. Justice, the one held behind the gate, is a scarred Carpathian. He willingly sacrificed himself and his soul in order for his family to live. There was a young Carpathian child taken. She had no choice but to stay until recently, when she was offered a way out. She chose to stay so Justice wouldn’t be alone. As far as I know, Justice is still holding out from serving those ruling the underworld. The child is fully grown now. I believe she is holding out as well.
He fell silent for the first time, saddened by the story of the two Carpathians lost to them. Justice, like all the ancients who had lived in the monastery high in the Carpathian Mountains, bore the scars of his sins on his soul.
Afanasiv didn’t look at his lifemate. Had he been wrong to claim her? To tie her to him? He hadn’t imparted the actual concern he had when giving her the explanation. If anything, he’d downplayed the danger.
My aunt is strong-willed. Once she gets something in her head, she would need to follow it through. She wouldn’t change her mind.
We will see who Olga meets. There was no point in speculating. Soon they would have an answer. If he managed to kill whomever Olga was reporting to, would that end the hold she had on Vasilisa’s brothers? Or could it do irreparable harm to them? He turned that thought over and over in his mind. He doubted if Olga had the kind of power needed to bring her nephews to such a state—serving a master and fighting it every step of the way. Someone more powerful than she had created the illusion for her, but Olga thought she was the one with the control over her nephews. It would be a terrible blow to her ego if she found out.
Olga suddenly stopped her forward momentum, snapping to attention like a soldier. Afanasiv half expected her to salute. An eerily familiar, not-so-welcoming voice greeted her.
“Idiot woman. What have you brought to me?”
“The blood of Garald, as you have instructed,” Olga replied shakily. “The demon servant did not get Vasilisa’s blood. We had her in the trap you devised, but she escaped with her lifemate.”
Silence stretched out, long and uncomfortable. Olga’s hands went to her throat as if she were choking. She tried to talk but no sound emerged. On her neck, great purple and blue depressions marred the smooth perfection of her skin. Her face went from beautiful to ugly, lines carved deep. Her eyes began to bug out of her head. She went to her knees, tears running down her face.
Vasilisa started a forward movement, but Afanasiv’s arm around her waist effectively stopped her. The instant Vasilisa moved, those hands left Olga’s throat, and a transparent figure dressed in a long robe shimmered into view. He stood behind Olga, a ceremonial knife to her throat, one hand in her hair, tipping her head back.
Olga shrieked. “Xavier. No.”
“Vasilisa. How kind of you to join us. Put down your weapons if you want your aunt to live. I am not a patient man. Your lifemate can testify to that fact.”
“And I’m not without intelligence, Xavier. My aunt went to you willingly and sold out my brothers and me, as well as our people, for some selfish reason of her own. If you kill her, it will spare me having to do so. Get on with it.”