him-and she refused to let him go. If he'd had the strength, he would have fought his way out, but he couldn't risk hurting her, and with his mind so shredded and his body so weak, he doubted he could reach the surface without a major battle between them.
"I see more than you think I see. You have forgotten, Razvan, that I had my own experiences with Xavier." Her fingers stroked his hair and began to make small circles over his temples. "And you have revealed far more of Xavier and his spells than you know."
He didn't like the speculation in her voice, but her hands worked magic, holding anguish at bay along with physical pain.
"You cannot best him. Believe me, I have tried over the centuries and I've always failed." He should have pushed away from her, but found he could not. Her hands were inducing a magic all their own. How long had it been since someone had touched him with such gentleness?
"As did I," she replied. "I knew Rhiannon and her lifemate. And when Xavier cast a holding spell over me and dragged me into the deep woods, he told me of his plan to kill her lifemate and force her to breed with him. He already had everything in place. Of course I knew the Carpathians would defeat him; we were too strong."
She paused. Her voice had gone singsong, lower pitched, almost velvet. He felt the soft notes sliding inside of him, stroking at the painful memories, pushing them back ever so gently. Everything about Ivory seemed soft and smooth and so peaceful.
"No one defeats Xavier."
She leaned close to him and whispered in his ear. "Because he has help. He always has help. Every memory you have shown me, a lesser mage first found the platform for the spell he cast. When he took me, and then later took Rhiannon's lifemate and murdered him, it was not Xavier who committed the actual murder-although I have heard he took the credit. It was Draven, Prince Vlad's eldest son. He betrayed our people to Xavier. He delivered Rhiannon's lifemate, dead, into Xavier's hands."
Razvan tried to stir, but his limbs were heavy. He felt his mind drifting a little as she built up doors, then slowly and gently pushed them shut to trap the pain and guilt where it couldn't reach him. One by one, the memories of his defeat and his crimes were slowly blocked until his mind could accept, from a distance, the centuries of failure, of torture and of self-revulsion. Her voice was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard and he concentrated on it, on that soft, sweet melody that seemed to take him somewhere far away from the stark brutality of his existence.
"I remember Draven. He is a distant memory. A murderous, treacherous man who demanded young mage women from Xavier in return for his information. He disappeared one day and Xavier was furious, spewing vile curses on Gregori Daratrazanoff for weeks after. I assumed Gregori had finally found out his betrayal and administered justice." He tried to open his eyes to look at her, but his eyelids were too heavy and he didn't want to disturb her soothing fingers. "Why would Draven kill Rhiannon's lifemate?" He choked a little over his grandmother's name. He had his father's memories of her, the soft-spoken woman Xavier had fed off of until his children were old enough to take her place.
"Draven was obsessed with me. I was not his true lifemate, but he wanted me. He had the sickness in him that some of our males get, and he believed, because he was in line to be prince, that he should have any woman he wanted. My brothers refused him when I told them I knew I was not his lifemate. When they were gone in battle, Prince Vlad sent me to Xavier's school, I think to keep me away from Draven."
"So Draven bought you from Xavier with the body of Rhiannon's lifemate." Razvan made it a statement.
His mind seemed at peace, drifting with the stroke of her fingers and the soft melody of her voice. It mattered little that the subject they discussed was abhorrent, his mind could process without fear or guilt or the overwhelming emotions that had poured into him at the sound of her voice. Now, his mind simply accepted and for the moment he was at peace. He didn't want that ever to end. He imagined this moment must be close