Dark Slayer(98)

Razvan dodged, looking over his shoulder at her, laughing. She was so beautiful to him, running in the snow with her long strides, her muscles rippling beneath the smooth expanse of skin. Just the way she moved was pure sin. Her eyes were enormous with excitement. Crystal flakes landed on her lashes and she batted the two thick crescents to get the snow off. The gesture was feminine, sexy beyond measure yet totally unintentional.

He took advantage and reversed direction, running at her fast, hurling three snowballs to distract her, uncaring where they hit, watching her mouth, that beautiful bow of a mouth, curved and soft and so tempting. He dropped his shoulder and caught her low, lifting her and taking her down in one smooth move.

They landed in the snow, sinking into the icy powder. Razvan caught her wrist before she could stuff another snowball down his shirt. She laughed up at him, looking good enough to eat. Before he could take advantage and kiss her, she pushed up with her heels, loosening him enough to roll them over so she was on top, trying to pin him down. They wrestled there in the snow, the flakes rising like a whirlwind to meet the ones falling from the sky, their laughter stirring the needles on the trees. The wind carried the sound on the stillness of the night.

They lay side by side, throwing arms and legs out, like two small children, making snow figures on the ground and then leaping to their feet for another wild battle with snowballs flying furiously.

Ivory finally leapt on him, arms circling his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips in an effort to stop the crazy game before she laughed so much she cried. "You are so crazy, Razvan," she said, holding him tightly. She buried her face against his throat, afraid she really would burst into tears at the emotions welling up, threatening to overwhelm her.

She knew he thought her some kind of miracle, but in truth, to her he was the miracle. She had no idea how to have fun, and she had no idea how he did. There had been no fun in his life, only cruelty and torture; she at least had played with her pack, but it was Razvan who brought fun into her world again.

"Ivory?" His voice was gentle with inquiry.

She refused to lift her head, only held him tighter, keeping her face pressed against his throat, listening to the wild beating of his heart and feeling the reassuring throb of his pulse.

Razvan tightened his arms around her, rocking gently as if comforting her, but he said nothing at all, not asking for an explanation to the end of their game. He simply accepted. She closed her eyes and savored him. It wasn't the physical strength Razvan possessed in abundance that drew her to him, it was the sheer strength of his character, the absolute well of determined spirit deep inside of him. He was so steady. A rock. For her.

She lifted her head and smiled down at him, not realizing her heart was shining in her eyes. "You are mine, Dragonseeker. My rock."

His slow, answering smile nearly stopped her heart. "That I am, han ku kuulua sivamet-keeper of my heart. I will be your everything."

Ivory allowed her feet to drop down into the snow. "Let's go home." More than anything she wanted to be home with him. She wanted her private sanctuary to welcome him, to feel as if he was as much a part of the pack-of her home-as he was her heart.

Razvan held out his hand to her. She glanced up at the sky, scanned the trees, hesitating. She was a warrior first. She could never lose sight of that.

"You will never be diminished by what is between us," he said softly.

Something in her settled. She couldn't imagine being diminished by Razvan. If anything, she would be better, stronger, more. She looked at his upturned palm. His hand was large. There were scars up and down his wrist and forearm. Her heart fluttered. She placed her hand in his and watched his fingers close around hers, binding them together just as the ritual words had done.

Do you remember? She couldn't ask aloud; it meant too much. She was very spiritual and believed, whether anyone else did or not, that they had been created to be together, and those words imprinted on him from birth ad made them one.

Razvan brought her hand to his chest and stepped close, brushing the snow from the strands of hair tumbling around her face, pulled from her thick braid in their wild battle. "I remember every word, Ivory, and I meant them. I wanted the binding between us. It was not desperation. And it was not the need to save me."

He bent his dark head in that slow way of his. He still had snowflakes on his lashes. As he moved, a thick heat slipped like molasses through her veins. His mouth closed over hers and the snow melted around her, she was certain of it. She swore she could see steam rising from the ground and feel molten liquid gathering like thick magma in her most feminine core.

She leaned into him, melting like the snow. She felt on the edge of a great precipice, teetering, knowing she was going to fall and it was far too late to save herself. In truth, she didn't want to; she already craved the taste of him, the heat and white lightning arcing through her body, sizzling in her mind, shorting out her brain for way too long when they were out in the open.