Carpathian 20 - Dark Slayer

pumped the air. Both breathed on their own. His breath burst from his lungs and his body sagged in relief. His silver gaze met Savannah’s violet one.
    She cried out, her joy bursting through the room.
    Gregori sank to his knees beside Ivory, reaching for her, not bothering to wipe the crimson tears from his face. “Her spirit is lighter. We can help her fight for life now. There are no words to give thanks. None.―
    She rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. “Razvan?―
    She was nearly translucent. She needed him desperately.
    Razvan . She couldn’t face this crowd alone, not feeling so weepy and vulnerable.

    He was there in an instant, reaching to draw Ivory into his embrace. Take my blood, fél ku kuuluaak sÃvam belső—beloved . As she wearily accepted and buried her face against the warmth of his neck, Razvan looked over her head to the prince.
    â€œThe night is nearly over; Ivory must go to ground. The ritual has drained her of strength.―
    â€œYou are welcome here,― Mikhail said.
    â€œThank you, but no. I will take her home where she can rest.
    We will return when she is stronger. In the meantime, Gregori must teach the ritual to some of your most gifted people so they can protect themselves until the life-form in the uncontaminated soil has a chance to spread and we can destroy Xavier and his unholy factory.―
    â€œBut—― Mikhail began a protest.
    Razvan swept his arms around Ivory and simply took her away, flying them from the chamber.
    19
    Razvan woke with the pack curled around him and Ivory cuddled into his body as if she sought shelter there. He opened the soil so he could look up at the stars on the ceiling, a sense of peace stealing over him. This was the moment he loved.
    Waking in the early evening when the prisms of the gems embedded in the opening allowed the moonlight to spill into the chamber and across Ivory’s face.
    He ached every time he looked at her. One small smile from Ivory was enough to make his soul soar. One touch wiped out every memory of the torture and depravity of his past. He had no idea how she did it, or why, when he was with her, the world was such a different place, filled with laughter and beauty and things he’d never dreamt of.
    Raja stirred and lifted his head, rubbing his chin over Razvan’s arm in greeting. Razvan sank his fingers into the deep fur, a miracle in itself. Already his heart had accepted each of these creatures with their separate personalities. Who had ever dreamed of burying a face in soft fur and having a wolf guard and try to heal wounds?
    Take the pack into the next room. I wish to be with my mate .
    Raja’s answer was a smile, his tongue swiping along Razvan’s arm, a rare gesture for Raja. Razvan greeted each wolf as they woke and watched them lope into the next room, leaving him alone with Ivory. He turned toward her, his arm sliding around her waist, his body close as he studied her face again. The shadows and hollows, the exquisite bone structure.
    Her hair spilled out of the thick braid and his fingers itched to pull out the weave and spread that silken mass everywhere. He loved her mouth. She rarely smiled, but she had a mouth made for smiling—and loving.
    There was no way he could tell her of the pride sweeping through him, the lump in his throat, the way his heart sang, and the terrible fear in his heart at her terrifying courage as he watched her battle Xavier’s evil. He knew better than any other just how difficult the task had been. He had seen other mages battle and lose with Xavier’s spells, and the mutated microbes were the culmination of his evil plot against his most hated enemy. She had chosen her equipment well; each article she used had been cleansed and prepared ahead of time, everything planned meticulously, just as she planned her battles. In the end, though, as things usually did, everything had gone wrong and, instead of trying a practice run, she had fought for the lives of infants—yet she had triumphed. Her finest moment.
    He knew she would never see herself as he saw her—or maybe as any other had. She had been magnificent. Pride swelled. Tall, with a woman’s soft, curvy body and slender arms, honed with muscle and sinew, her face lifted toward that small sliver of moon shining through the cavern’s chimney.
    Sometimes, when he looked at her, like he did