do believe it is going to snow on us."
"Shall we take the children and go home?" she asked, her slow grin matching his.
"Are we flying? Running?" He arched a brow at her.
Ivory took a slow, careful look around her. "I think we will walk for now."
Razvan sent his senses flaring out into the night, trying to pick up on what she felt. He didn't doubt that some of the Carpathian hunters might follow them to make certain they were not meeting with Xavier and reporting everything they had spoken of.
"They think I am a spy," he said. "Does it bother you?"
"Actually," Ivory corrected, "they think we are both spies." She sent him an amused grin. "I have spent more than one human lifetime thinking of the Carpathian people as betrayers, and yet they think me the spy."
"Because you are with me," he pointed out. "If you like, when you wish to visit or speak with them to gather information, it will not hurt me to have you go into the village alone. I can spend the time with the pack on the outskirts, waiting for you."
She shook her head. "It is not simply because of you. I am a Malinov. I cannot blame them. The timing is very suspicious. I would be suspicious." But she wasn't happy with his sister. Natalya should have believed in him. She was afraid to believe, more than she disbelieved. Ivory didn't voice her opinion because Razvan simply accepted his sister's suspicions as he did most things, but if she had an opportunity, she might just have a word with the woman.
Razvan laughed out loud and enveloped her hand with his. "I am still in your mind."
She blushed, realizing she was still in his as well. "It feels so natural. I did not mean for you to hear that."
"I do not mind you wanting to stick up for me, but truly, Ivory, it is not necessary. I have learned to live without Natalya's admiration these long years. I do worry for my daughter, Lara. I hope we can alleviate her problems by eliminating Xavier, but I have no wish to disrupt her life or Natalya's, or even the aunts'. I am fine the way I am. Happy the way I am."
He tucked her hand against his chest as they walked, bringing them close together. "Lara did not come to see me, which you and I both know means that she was not ready to face me. I am uncomfortable in the presence of so many. Emotions, which I am unused to, can be difficult. I need peace in my mind, and with the combination of their doubt and guilt pressing on me, I found myself having to work at keeping my mind calm, which hasn't happened in more years than I care to count."
"They are fools, Razvan, not to understand what you suffered for them. For all of the Carpathian people."
"My aunts will tell them once they emerge from the healing ground. They were kept too long starving and Gregori has long been trying to aid them to recovery," Razvan said. "When we shared minds, I could see them very clearly." He smiled, and this time his eyes held affection. "I observed them as women, as he saw them, not in the form of dragons as they were held captive. It was . . . astounding."
Ivory walked through the snow, swinging hands with him, wishing she'd paid more attention to the various people in Gregori's mind. If they hadn't pertained to battle or seemed significant to her, she had tried to be careful of his privacy. Now, she could scarcely recall the two women who had saved Razvan's life by turning him fully Carpathian. They had Rhiannon's blood flowing in their veins-Razvan's grandmother. Rhiannon had come from such a powerful Carpathian line.
"Dragonseeker," she murmured aloud. "How often that name was whispered in awe and respect. You carry that line and you stayed true to it."
The first flakes began to fall. Small crystals of enormous beauty. Razvan watched them as they walked, their tracks light and then, when Ivory wished it, nonexistent. They still left their scent behind, making certain that anyone who might wish to track them would see the wide curve of a new direction.
Razvan walked along beside her, feeling content, occasionally scooping snow into his hand and packing it to form a ball just to throw it at a tree trunk as they passed. It made him feel a bit like a kid