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Dark Blood(159)

By:Christine Feehan


He wrapped his arm around Branislava, not missing a step as he continued away from the battlefield toward the forest where they could shift in privacy and join Gregori and Mikhail in the cave of warriors. Fen and Tatijana, Dimitri and Skyler as well as Razvan and Ivory were already waiting for them.

He had no doubt they would give his grandfather the honors due him before laying him to rest. These were the people he chose to be with. He was Lycan in his heart and he always would be, but he was also Hän ku pesäk kaikak—guardian of all. Right now, the only thing in his mind was paying proper tribute to Hemming in a private and loving way.





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23


Zev woke to the moon directly above him, the beams shining like a spotlight over him. The sky was clear with thousands of brilliant stars glittering like diamonds. He turned his head and Branislava smiled at him. His heart did that slow, melting somersault it often did when she gave him that particular smile.

“You opened the earth.”

“I wanted you to wake to the night. It’s so beautiful, Zev.”

The heat of her body warmed him, her skin, hot silk, gliding against his, making him feel alive. Her head rested on his arm, and she lay snuggled tight against him, his body curved protectively around hers. He knew she was trying to ease not only the pain of losing his grandfather, but the bitter reality that the two men he’d considered close friends for more years than most could count had turned on him. Certainly not openly and maybe they didn’t even realize it yet, but in their hearts, they thought differently of him because he was mixed blood.

“Zev,” she said softly, reading his thoughts. “They will come around. Rolf was ashamed and guilty. Randall didn’t realize the man in chains was your grandfather. Mikhail spoke with both of them and they’re devastated that you resigned. They’ll be the ones to persuade the Lycans to accept mixed bloods.”

He sighed and nuzzled the top of her head. Her hair, usually more red gold, was very red and all over the place, just the way he liked it. “Maybe you’re right.” He wanted her to be. He couldn’t help the affection he had for the two men he’d protected for a good portion of his life. The fact that they didn’t reciprocate was difficult to accept.

She brushed a kiss along his bicep. “They reciprocate. They don’t know how to backtrack, but they will. Give them time, Zev.”

“You were right to insist we come to our little crater,” he murmured against her wild hair, willing to let her make him feel differently. He was happy with her. He would always be happy with her, no matter what else was going on in his life. “I should always listen to you.”

He felt her smile against his bicep. Her small teeth nipped, sending a thrill vibrating through his body. “Of course you should. When it comes to you, Wolfie, I’m the woman who plans to see to every detail of your happiness and health.”

He heard that little bite in her voice. “I’m sorry I was such a fool last night. I should have allowed you to heal my wounds before we laid my grandfather properly to rest. I know you weren’t the least bit happy with me.”

Her mouth curved against his arm. He felt the warmth of her breath and then the brush of her lips. “So coming up to our special mountain was a little compensation.”

Of course she’d known. He knew she wasn’t happy with waiting, so when she suggested going to the mountain where they’d spend the day nestled in the crater high up in the dome, beneath the rich soil, surrounded by cooling mist and snowcaps, he’d agreed just to appease her.

“I like taking care of you, Zev. It matters to me.”

He heard the honesty in her voice and winced. Not only did it matter, but as his lifemate she was driven to care for not only his happiness, but his health.

“I know, Branka,” he admitted, and nuzzled the top of her head with his chin again, enjoying the way her hair caught in the shadow on his jaw. Silken strands, weaving them together in intimacy. He liked the image although it was far too corny to ever admit to her.

“You insisted on healing me,” she pointed out.

His smile came instantly at that little sulky note in her voice. He felt joy sweeping through him. He had gone to ground with the weight of the world on his shoulders, still upset—and hurt—over Randall’s and Rolf’s reactions to the death of his grandfather. He had woken to Branislava and his shaken world had righted itself.

“I did, didn’t I?” He couldn’t help the lazy satisfaction creeping into his tone. He tracked a shooting star before he turned his head to brush kisses along her temple. “I’m sorry.”