bloodred column. He drew in a deep breath and let it out.
"Perhaps we should shelve this discussion until we have heard what Nicolas has to say."
"Forgive me, Mikhail, but you cannot allow me to hear anything Nicolas or anyone else has to say. If I go, I cannot know your plans. I cannot hear one word of strategy. We are in a war and the very existence of our species is at stake. The choices here will be difficult." His gaze sought out and rested on the three women-Natalya, Jaxon and Destiny. "Difficult for all of us. We have to make sacrifices and know what is the best use of every resource we have available to us. The choices are not easy, nor will they be popular, but they have to be made. I am expendable. I have the blood that will fight against the call of darkness the longest. My lineage was not given the burden of other bloodlines." His gaze flicked briefly to Nicolas and gave him a warriors slight bow of respect.
Nicolas shook his head, his throat suddenly clogged. Dominic was a living legend, much like Lucian and Gabriel. He knew-and understood-the curse of darkness on the De La Cruz brothers. They struggled to maintain honor and always had in the face of that creeping stain. Now, when he must stand before the council admitting he and his brothers had a hand in plotting the conspiracy to bring the downfall of the Carpathian people, Dominic was acknowledging the terrible burden the De La Cruz brothers had endured over the centuries.
"No one is expendable," Gregori said. "Not a single warrior, certainly not one of your expertise and wisdom."
Nicolas remained silent as each warrior gave his or her opinion. In the sacred chamber, with their blood mingling with their ancestors, the steam purifying them and the crystals focusing and clarifying their minds, all were heard with great respect. But he knew Dominic was going to ingest the blood and sadly, he agreed it was the right thing to do, the only thing when their entire species was poised on the brink of extinction.
Dominic was right. The Carpathians needed to know what Xavier and his coalition of vampires and jaguar-men were up to. They needed a spy in the camp. The Malinov brothers would never be able to resist letting a Carpathian as powerful as Dominic join their ranks, and certainly Xavier would consider it
a huge coup. The turning of Rhiannon's brother would be a victory for him.
His eyes met Mikhail's. The naked sorrow there was reflected in his own gaze. Mikhail knew as well. Dominic would listen to the gathered warriors, but in the end, nothing would change his mind. Someone had to go and Dominic was the logical choice.
For one moment, the lines in the prince's face were etched deep. His mouth was set and he looked older, tired, weary of the burden resting on his shoulders.
The chamber grew quiet. Mikhail straightened to his full height, his black eyes glowing a deep red. His face changed completely, so that he looked majestic, every inch the leader of the warriors gathered to make momentous decisions. Steam swirled and several crystals softened color until it appeared the moon shone deep beneath the earth, spotlighting their leader. The aurora colors swirled with life, streaks of bloodred moving through an ocean of color.
"You honor our people with your bravery, Dominic," he said. His low voice carried throughout the cavern. "It shall be. The Carpathian people will never forget your sacrifice."
Dominic stared down at his closed fist, then one by one opened his fingers. One nail lengthened and he drew a thin line across his wrist, holding his arm out to Gregori. Gregori remained still, his face an expressionless mask. Mikhail lifted his hand-an order, a decree. First Gregori, and then Lucian, Gabriel and Darius came forward and took the blood sealing Dominic to them. Dimitri stepped forward and then it was Nicolas's turn. He took his place beside the warrior he considered one of the greatest of all time.
The prince, in the name of good for the Carpathian people, was sending Dominic to an existence far worse than any Carpathian could conceive. The De La Cruz lineage had been cursed with darkness, but they had also been gifted with enduring strength and honor. In the centuries past, no Dragonseeker had ever succumbed to the whispers that grew louder as one lived longer without hope, without emotion. This then, was the last of