“Are you going to tell me what’s going on? What’s happening to me?” Zev demanded. He’d had enough of intrigue and his own strange behavior.
Let them get you home, Branislava said. I can attend your wound.
I need to know what’s going on. He tried not to snarl the demand, but it came out that way despite his best effort.
I need to heal your wound. She didn’t flinch in the face of the wolf. She used her soft, melodic voice that could bring any man to his knees. Even his wolf seemed to respond, subsiding enough that he could do as she asked.
He swore under his breath, but he nodded to Fen. Fen didn’t wait to see if he’d change his mind. He caught up Zev and took him through the caves, going through the lower and upper chambers with astonishing speed. The caverns leading down to the sacred chamber were really miles of maze, a true labyrinth, but Zev knew instinctively that he could find his way back in spite of the rapid ascent.
The velocity wrenched at his body, but he didn’t protest, wanting to get answers as soon as possible. They burst out of an opening between rocks that looked like no more than a mere crack when he looked back. Branislava, with Dimitri right behind her, emerged after them.
Which direction, Zev? Fen asked.
Take me to the house in the forest. He needed the familiarity of the trees and open air. He was Lycan and the forest would always be his first choice.
The terrible need to change, that snarling, raging wolf, had retreated, but the aftertaste was a blow to his pride. He’d nearly lost control in front of everyone—and he was a master of control. Not once in all his long years had he ever come that close. He knew he was a dangerous man. He was Lycan, born to a time when they still hunted prey. He had managed to overcome that hunger. He was able to fight without a pack. He negotiated peace among packs. To lose control was appalling, almost beyond his comprehension.
The forest felt cool and fresh when they entered it. The scent of ancient trees aided in calming his wolf. He breathed in the air, taking in familiar scents. He was aware of every living thing within a few miles. This was home.
The house was small, built of stone like so many in the area were. This one was deep in the forest, far from everyone else. Wolves inhabited this territory, and he immediately felt a kinship with them. It didn’t surprise him to catch Dimitri’s scent, very faint, mingling with that of Dimitri’s lifemate, Skyler. They had been running with the wolves at some point earlier in the evening.
Fen didn’t set him down until they were inside the stone house. He set him on the bed that had already been made up. The scents of Tatijana, Fen’s lifemate, and Skyler were everywhere. Fen had called ahead and they had made the house welcoming for him. Still, it was significant that neither were present.
Branislava put a hand on his chest indicating for him to lie back. He put his hand over hers, just for a moment, as he eased down onto the bed. Her palm was right over his heart and her touch seemed to go right through him.
I know something is wrong with me, but I would never hurt you. That much he was certain of. It might be the only thing he knew for certain.
I never thought you would.
She pulled her hand out from under his to catch the edges of his shirt and rip it open. He winced when he saw the wound. It was an ugly mess, the hole far bigger than he anticipated. The edges were mending from the inside out, but it had a long way to go.
Branislava turned her head to glare at Fen and Dimitri. Zev realized she was angry—not at him—but at them. She turned back to him, her touch gentle as she placed both hands over the wound. He felt warmth in her touch, which seemed to grow hotter.
You need to go to ground, Zev. This wound needs to heal.
I need to know what’s going on. Gregori said I was a dangerous man, and he spoke the truth. I can’t lose control. I can’t allow my wolf to take control from me in any situation.
Branislava sighed and sank onto the bed beside him. When she lifted her hands, they were free of his blood and he knew he was no longer bleeding. “We are lifemates,” she announced. She didn’t sound happy about it.
Zev frowned and slowly sat up. Puzzled, he looked to Fen for an explanation.
Fen shook his head, holding both hands up. “I don’t know what happened, Zev. When you were so severely wounded, all of us fought for your life. No one wanted to let you go, but you were so far gone and there was very little time . . .” He broke off, shrugging again.
“I wove my spirit to yours,” Branislava confessed. “It was the only thing I could think to do to keep you from dying. You wouldn’t go if you would take me with you.”
“You said either one of us could undo that weave,” Zev remembered.
She nodded slowly. “That’s true. But it will not release us altogether.” She looked down at her hands. “I knew when I first saw you.”
“That’s impossible,” Fen said. “He’s Lycan first. How can a Lycan be lifemate to a Carpathian? A Dragonseeker?”
“I don’t know the how of it, just that it is so,” Branislava replied.
“Okay,” Zev said softly, realizing she was distressed. He was beginning to be able to read her. “Now what happens?” Now, some of what the ancients had said to him about how everything was about blood was beginning to make sense. They called him “Dark Blood,” not mixed blood. He was both.
Her heart was pounding too fast at the admission that she was his lifemate. He reached out and took her hand. “You have no reason to fear me. Whatever this thing is between us, you tell me what you want to do. I would never force you into anything.”
Fen ran both hands through his hair, and Dimitri turned away to stare out the window into the night.