Carpathian 20 - Dark Slayer

ice block. The male roared and she answered.
    Sergey leapt toward Vikirnoff as he half-turned to look at his lifemate. He slammed the sword aside and punched through Vikirnoff’s chest, reaching for his heart, standing toe to toe, grinning evilly. Blaez and Rikki dug paws into Razvan’s back and pushed off, hitting Sergey hard, from the side, driving him back away from Vikirnoff, who staggered, blood spraying across the ice. Raja and the rest of the pack leapt free to circle Vikirnoff protectively as he healed the great gaping hole in his chest.
    The vampire had little time to lick his fist to get a taste of Carpathian blood and power. Razvan threw a vial of holy water over him. Sergey screamed as the water burned through his skin all the way to the bone, leaving behind great holes in his flesh. Smoke rose, the stench fetid. Razvan followed the water with a series of arrowheads, snapping them hard so they buried deep, going up the vampire’s chest.
    The vest stirred as though alive, the fabric parting as if torn and then smoothly going back into place. Razvan rushed him, following the arrows. Sergey tried to shapeshift, but the coating on the arrows prevented him from doing so. Razvan punched through the vest. The moment his flesh touched the fabric, the threads came alive, winding around his fist, racing up his arm toward his shoulder and face. Tiny parasitic worms with sharp teeth, ripping and digging into his flesh. He stepped back, trying to sweep the creatures from his body. Sergey flung himself at Razvan but the wolves interceded, slamming into the vampire with full force, driving him over backward and going for his throat.
    Ivory never moved. Never looked back. She had one purpose, and he was in front of her. The tigers snarling at one another, the battle raging behind them—none of it mattered, only Xavier, only the man lifting his staff with hatred on his face and his gaze fixed on Razvan. She knew he would go for her, not Razvan. He wanted her lifemate to suffer for his perceived betrayal, for the Dragonseeker blood that had held out for centuries against him. For his escape and his newfound strength and power. Razvan was the symbol of everything he hated. And she was Razvan’s lifemate.
    As if in slow motion, she saw him bring the staff across and down his body. Time slowed down, her world narrowing. The end of the staff began to glow bright as he pointed it at Razvan.
    Ivory noted the red eye in the center of the crystal fixed on her, not on her lifemate. She felt power move inside of her.
    Everything she was. Everything she had ever been. Was it enough?
    Razvan poured everything he was into her, leaving the pack to deal with Sergey while they merged, trusting Vikirnoff to guard their backs along with the wolves. Trusting Natalya to lead the tiger away from them.
    The staff glowed bright orange-red. Ivory lifted her hands, palms facing the wizard. A flash of bright light hurt her eyes as the crystal shot out a bolt of energy directly at her. Razvan stepped up beside her, lifting his hands to the exact same height as hers.
    I call to Hell’s Gate , Ivory chanted.

    Let lightning strike , Razvan invoked.
    I call to the power that which is light , Ivory chanted.
    Take form from this darkness , Razvan invoked.
    Let angels walk forth , Ivory pleaded.
    Opening their arms, draining evil’s force , Razvan chanted.
    Take that which is heart’s blood . Power filled Ivory’s voice.
    Straining it pure . Razvan merged completely with Ivory.
    They chanted together: Let it only abide in one that is pure .
    Already weak without Carpathian blood to sustain him and from her previous spell, the combination of Razvan and Ivory together was too much for Xavier. The dark blood in the center of the crystal exploded outward and Xavier clutched his heart.
    Blood burst from his chest. Snarling, cornered, terrified he was losing his final chance at immortality, the mage used his last, most secret weapon. He dropped his staff, clutched his chest in an effort to stem that black, bubbling blood and unleashed his wrath on the Carpathians.
    The sun burst overhead. Bright. White-hot. A turbulent, seething, volcanic mass. Winds roared, tearing through the ice caves as the heat blasted them from all sides, melting the ice faster than anything possible. Water poured down on them, searing, boiling water. Steam rose, but as the orange-red ball spun, it flung threads of fire. Dazzling light