The scent of rabbit and fox was heavy, as well as that of an abundance of other forest creatures, all shivering in silence as the pack passed through their territories. Ivory swerved left, away from the Carpathian village toward the caves and sacred places the Carpathians used in their rituals. She didn't want her pack to run into any local wolves. As a rule she kept an uneasy truce between her pack and any others they encountered, but for now they were exercising their freedom and deserved to go unscathed through any territory they chose.
She was proud of them for their roles in saving the farmer and his family; at least, she hoped the little girl was still alive. No one had told her one way or the other, although she could understand why. They had all been amazed at the volume of minerals and elements the earth had encased her and Razvan in, a primordial mixture of everything needed to revitalize and repair them. The earth had done so centuries earlier for her alone, without the healing aid or blood of the Carpathians. It had been a struggle to find enough blood to maintain life.
She had been nearly insane those long years, merely existing without thought for anything but survival and, in the intervening years, she had accepted her solitary life. Now, Razvan ran beside her, his shoulder occasionally brushing hers, his heart beating in rhythm with hers. Every step through the snow, winding through the trees, fording a small, still-unfrozen river and skirting ice edgings was so much more fun.
I forgot about fun.
And there was that. Mind to mind. She wasn't alone anymore and never would be again. Once Razvan had bound them together she had merged her soul with his, her body with his, mind and heart, until they were literally one in spirit. He had experienced her life, just as she had experienced his. There was nothing they could hide from one another. She didn't know which was worse, the psychological damage Xavier had inflicted on Razvan or the torture. Once his aunts had turned him, she was certain that as a Carpathian male, the worst would have been being used to breed children for Xavier to consume. And also betraying his sister, desperate to send her warnings, only to have Xavier corrupt each message until the mage had nearly trapped her.
As she loped across a field of white, Ivory moved closer to him, wanting to experience his first time as a wolf, wanting to be the one to give him joyful memories to ease the worst of his experiences. He stretched his neck and ran it along hers as he moved, and she felt him move in her mind, surrounding her will with warmth.
I am having the time of my life. I have never had such fun. I am not certain I would have known how to have fun without you showing me. I suppose one needs to have a companion to share this kind of adventure with to really savor it.
She liked the way he thought. Mostly she just liked his company. They played hide-and-seek in the trees and covered each other in snow. At one point Raja initiated a strange game of dog pile and Razvan seemed to be the one the wolves all leapt on, rolling in the snow and down an embankment, with Ivory laughing at him.
Razvan surged to his feet, reveling in the wolf's strength, shaking his body to loosen the snow clinging to his black undercoat and the silver tips of his fur. Ivory leapt from the bank and hit him with her shoulder, sending them both tumbling back down the slope, rolling so that the ice crystals clung to their fur. When they rose, they looked like two wolves carved of snow.
Razvan rubbed his body along Ivory's, helping to get the snow off before turning and directing the pack back toward the Carpathian homes scattered throughout the forest. It was an amazing feeling to have the entire pack follow him. Ivory was just two or three paces behind, all of them trotting in ground-eating silence. The wind was in his face, the night air singing to him, smaller animals scurrying away to safety as he led the wolves through the forest, giving the pack their due, knowing who ruled there in that moment.
Both Ivory and Razvan needed to feed before they went to their lair, and he was eager to go, to get out of Carpathian territory. It was one thing to "see" his sister and daughter from a distance, to be told he might have a second and third daughter he knew nothing about. But to face them and watch them judge him-that was much more difficult.
It matters little to us, Razvan. I know who you are. And I know what is in your heart and soul. If they choose to look at you with suspicion . . .
As they should, he reminded gently, hearing the protective note in her voice. But it warmed him that she did know his heart and soul. She knew him better than anyone else, and if he was strictly honest, he had to admit that having one person in the world know what his life had been, what his sacrifices were, mattered.
You are a miracle, Ivory. It is good to know there is one person who holds my true life in her memories. Why did it matter so much now, when he had accepted for so long that he was branded traitor, criminal, most despised and despicable Carpathian on the face of the earth. Just the thought that Ivory might believe he had bred children for the sole purpose of using their blood to feed his longevity made him ill.