floor of the ice cave if Vikirnoff hadn't caught her to him. They clung to one another, Natalya shuddering violently and Vikirnoff trembling with the knowledge he'd nearly lost her.
Tears poured down her face. "My father." She could barely get the words out, her throat was so raw with grief. "He was tortured."
"I know, ainaak enyem.'" His voice was tender as he stroked her hair, seeking a way to comfort her. "I am so sorry." She hadn't just seen her father's torture; she had experienced it. "I would give anything to prevent you having to go through that." He framed her face with his hands and kissed her tears away.
Natalya looked up at his face, the smears of blood on his forehead, the tracks of blood-red tears on his face. He'd shared the same experience and he'd also shared her wild grief and outrage. She wiped his brow with gentle fingers, touched the tear tracks and leaned into him. "Thank you for being with me."
"Always, Natalya." All the while he was comforting her, he was aware that the boom of the water had grown frantic, so loud the ice chamber shook. He eyed the rusty pool that was growing with each drop, not deeper, but spreading out like a giant stain. "We have to leave this place now, Natalya." Attacking the pool without knowing what he faced in a cavern full of magick could be suicide.
She took a breath, her fingers digging into his arm for support. "I have to find the knife. You saw it. You were in my mind. I have to get the knife." She glanced around the ice chamber. "The alcove has a huge cache of weapons. It's the most likely place."
"You have got to hurry. The vampires are nearly on us. We are going to have to fight our way out of here," he cautioned.
He clamped down hard against his natural protective instincts to snatch her up and get her away from danger. He was beginning to realize having a lifemate was difficult. Living with her wasn't about what he wanted, or even needed. Being a lifemate was about supporting Natalya even when everything in him wanted something else. Her personality required a certain amount of freedom and it didn't always matter what he deemed best.
He knew she had to complete this task. And now, when it was apparent her father had been tortured and murdered, it was more important than ever. He guarded her back, moving with her across the floor of ice, eyes scanning the great chamber.
"My heart is beginning to beat with the same rhythm as the water dripping," Natalya confided in a whisper. "And that's just freaky." She kept her gaze fixed on the small alcove containing the cache of weapons. She knew the vampires were close. The dragon on her body seemed to be burning a hole through her skin.
"My heart is doing the same thing, Natalya," Vikirnoff said. "And when I pulled you away from the shadows, the bubbling in that puddle took on an entire new meaning."
Natalya glanced at the thick rusty puddle. "It looks like a witches brew." Her gaze went right back to the weapons, drawn by something outside of herself. Her breath caught in her lungs and she stopped abruptly. "I see the knife."
"Can you get to it?"
"Yes, but doubt I'll just be able to grab the thing."
Vikirnoff shifted his attention to the west wall down near the floor where the ice was melting at an alarming rate. Insects poured into the chamber, a mass exodus of crickets and beetles and every cave-dwelling bug imaginable. "We are going to have company any minute, Natalya, do what you have to do and let us leave this place." He positioned himself between his lifemate and the rapidly melting ice.
"Keep them off of me for a few minutes," she replied. "I have to figure this out." Unlocking the safeguards around the ceremonial knife required concentration, something difficult when the steady drip of the water was echoing through her brain and jangling every nerve. Even her blood seemed to jump as each drop fell into the ever-widening puddle. The insects would have been a terrible distraction, but they were rushing through the chamber to get away from something far worse following them.
Natalya moved her hands in a complicated pattern, murmuring a simple uncloaking spell
her father had taught her in her early childhood. Knowing her father had drawn her to the cave made it easier to solve the puzzles. He