breath came fast as she merely imagined what it would have been like earlier if she had narrowed the gap between them herself. She’d wanted to. She’d wanted to claim the only softness on his hard, scarred face. His lips were indulgent in an otherwise forbidding mien. They begged for kisses even as everything else warned her away.
Kissing him would be a mistake. It was wrong to even imagine flicking her tongue into his mouth and tasting him...again. The idea that she already had, that they had been mates once upon a time, was driving her crazy. Her body told her they would be good together, because it already knew they were.
That the white wolf was the one with enough control to walk away made her feel like the beast. She’d been awake for such a short time. The world was sudden and new. She had no memories to anchor her. Only the drive to save Trevor and help Vasilisa. Only the need to relearn the swordsmanship she’d forgotten.
And now this.
The desire to remember Lev Romanov’s kiss.
A wolf howled far in the distance. It was a thready sound, small and wavering. Nothing to fear with a roaring fire beside her and a sword near her fingertips. The horses didn’t even dance in their tethers.
Yet somewhere out in the forest, Lev ran alone on two legs instead of four, and even though they were no longer connected, Madeline couldn’t put him from her mind as she lay by the fire. Invisible strings seemed to run from her consciousness out into the night as if they connected her to him, seeking to knit them together.
Madeline turned toward the fire. The ruby sword was within reach. The dancing flames illuminated the dull gray gem, seemingly bringing it to life. She couldn’t reclaim the connection she’d once had with Lev Romanov. Not when she knew the beast that hid beneath his skin. She’d seen his wicked maw. She’d seen the blaze of fury in his eyes. The control he’d displayed today was a lie.
Madeline opened the backpack that sat beside the sword. She took out her sketchbook and flipped through its familiar pages. The firelight illuminated the ferocity and anger of the white wolf. His savagery. His menace.
Much better for Trevor that she focus on this truth: Lev Romanov couldn’t be trusted. He was a monster waiting to happen. Her son had been through enough. Once he was back in her arms, she would protect him from all harm, including the threat posed by his own father.
The sword was waiting. It didn’t have to glow with ruby light to be a weapon. Madeline reached for its hilt and stood up. This time, her fingers settled into the slight grooves of use that were invisible to the naked eye. Something in her knew where each digit should rest, where they had rested long ago.
Illuminated by simple firelight in the absence of Volkhvy power, Madeline went through the practice motions Lev had shown her. The ruby didn’t glow. There was no connection between her and the blade and the white Romanov wolf. But there was muscle memory, just as Lev had said there would be. The moves came more smoothly with each repetition. Her body knew which way to bend and flow, so she allowed it to take control.
The night was long, but it was also familiar. Although he didn’t have fur to warm him or giant paws to eat up the ground over which he traversed, running through the Carpathian woods had been his life for so long that it was anything but a hardship now. Within minutes, he had found his rhythm with two feet instead of four paws. He loped more easily than any other man could through the game trails that ran through the trees in a nearly invisible network of lines.
After a time, he found the pack, far enough away from Madeline and the horses to soothe his mind. He settled in to watch them from an upwind vantage point high in a tree he had easily scaled with his strong arms and legs. With his back braced against the trunk, he counted the wolves as they milled around. If their aimless wandering hadn’t clued him in to an abnormality, their numbers would have. He’d been right. The pack was large. Too large. And as he watched, more wolves came from all directions to join the others already amassing beneath him.
He and Madeline wouldn’t make it to Straluci without a fight.
But Madeline had also been right.
He would be prepared for the challenge, shifted or not. The white wolf inside him raised its head and howled with a ferocity unmatched by the natural wolves below him.
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