skin crawled. Her wrists burned. She felt the sensation of spiders crawling over her skin. Lara brushed them away, coming up against the wall. The temperature in the room dropped significantly and she couldn't stop shivering with cold.
The stranger swung around to look at her, his eyes slashing steel. "Dragonseeker," he said aloud. "The blood runs strong in her."
Bile rose. She choked, barely able to drag in enough air. The walls of the room undulated, curved, formed tunnels, thick and blue around her.
"Gregori, we do not have much time," Mikhail said.
Fear became a monster, blossoming, growing, building inside her until she could barely see straight. She floor shifted under her feet. So much power. The scent of decayed blood so strong. The man on the bed was beyond screaming now, moaning continuously.
Gregori nodded, but those silver eyes continued to bore into Lara, shredding her guards, her very carefully placed shields, seeing right through her to reveal every one of her secrets.You have much power running through your veins .
Her body jerked, her mind flinching away from the invasion. Those light, piercing eyes. She had seen eyes that color on only one other person. Fear shook her. For one moment his face wavered, and she found herself staring at a different face, one all too familiar from her nightmares. Gasping, she whirled around, seeking a way out, but the cold ice walls were too thick to penetrate. She was trapped. Her wrist throbbed and burned.
Lara? What is it? Nicolas stepped toward her.
Stay out of my head! Not only did she reject the contact, she threw him out of her mind, slamming a barrier hard and fast, gathering the energy in the room around her like a protective cloak. Her hands rose, an automatic gesture of protection, weaving fast with astonishing expertise.
Wall of light. Shield of gold. Rise up now. Come forth, come hold. Protect using knowledge deep within, meant to protect and abate the sin. Let not the demons from the past, continue harvesting, let them fast.
Thunder roared, shaking the room. A solid wave of light and red-orange flames burst from the barrier of pure energy.
Look out! Nicolas called out the warning, throwing his body in front of Mikhail.
Gregori was already in motion, diving across the room to cover the prince.
Light banded and flashed in waves, bursting into bright rockets, hot flames a towering wall of red-orange, nearly blinding them. The men threw up their arms to shield their eyes. The wall of energy hit all three Carpathian males with the force of a freight train, tossing them as if they were no more than bits of flotsam on the waves of the raging sea.
Gregori and Nicolas took the brunt of the energy, both absorbing it rather than fighting, trying to shield the prince from most of the impact. Even as Nicolas was thrown backward, he was already shifting in midair, leaping to cover his lifemate should Gregori meet the attack on the prince with a death threat. He slammed into Lara hard, power clinging to him in ropes, lighting up the room as he flashed through the air. He drove her backward, taking her to the floor, his larger body blanketing hers.
She tried to roll, but he caught her wrists, preventing her from using her hands to weave spells, slamming her arms above her head and pinning her to the floor. "Lara, look at me."
She went absolutely still beneath him, her eyes unfocused. Her body was ice cold, alarmingly so. Nicolas didn't hesitate. He thrust his mind into hers, following her along the path of her memories.
The smell of decayed blood was strong. The scent mingled with decomposition of rotting flesh. Then he heard the screams. Moans. The continual cry of someone in agony, not just physical, but tormented mental agony. Nicolas ventured down the ice-cold hallway. It opened to a large chamber. Overhead the ceiling was high and long columns reached from floor to ceiling. Splashes of red cut through blue and sprayed across the left wall where a man was chained to the floor. He was naked, convulsing, his eyes glowing with madness while tiny white parasites fed on his flesh. Nicolas recognized him as one of their bitterest enemies-Razvan, grandson of Xavier, the oldest and most powerful of all mages.
Chained beside Razvan was what was left of a woman lying motionless, her face set in rigid horror, her mouth open wide as if she'd died screaming. The parasites fed on her while Razvan desperately tried to beat