Dark Lycan (Carpathian)

Zev flashed him a knowing grin. “Come take me on my first dragon ride,” he said to Tatijana. “I’ll let you deal with dead bodies and Carpathians this night, Fen. Come see me and I’ll show you those weapons. I might even have an extra or two.” The smile faded and he lifted his head and sniffed the forest.

Fen did the same. The scent of blood and death and burnt flesh permeated the entire area. The scent of rogues in battle was already present, and if they were creeping close again, they would have made certain their scents would remain hidden. Zev was worried about leaving him there alone.

“How long will it take Bardolf to regenerate?” Zev asked. “I’ve never actually fought the Sange rau. I’ve never come across one before,” he admitted.

“Longer than he’ll like.” Enough time that Fen planned to go looking for his lair. But he’d do that alone. Neither Tatijana nor Zev needed that information.

Silly wolf man. You think to protect me from the vampire thingie, whatever he is. I learn fast. I am not going to leave you to fight this battle alone.

There was soft, sensual affection growing in her voice, enough that the low note turned his heart to mush. He was supposed to be the big bad warrior and she seemed to reduce him to melted goo with just a few words. That didn’t bode well for his future.

Tatijana threw back her head and laughed aloud. “You two are priceless. I’m collecting the silver stakes and giving them to Fen. Do you want to loan him your silver sword as well while he waits all alone like a sacrificial lamb in the forest for the wolves to return?”

That was a good one. No way would Zev want to part with his sword, but she’d made it nearly impossible for him to do anything else. If he insisted on taking it with him, when an injured man was waiting alone and vulnerable, he would look pretty petty.

Zev shook his head. “I want this back, Fen.” He held the sword out to Tatijana.

“I’ll see to it,” Fen promised. “You said your pack would be here to help in another twenty-four hours.”

Tatijana might be the one giving the sword back. Fen had only another day before he entered the time of great danger. Zev would recognize his mixed blood. By the full moon, every Lycan in the vicinity would sense his presence and try to kill him. Once Zev’s pack of elite hunters arrived, Fen would be in real trouble. They would put the rogue pack on the back burner and make him their primary mission.

“It amazes me that the silver would be strong enough to cut through bone.”

Zev’s smile was distinctly wolfish. Clearly he had a few secrets when it came to making his weapons. Fen needed those secrets. He glanced at Tatijana. She nodded.

“Let’s go, Zev, before it gets much later. Unlike you, I have to be aware of time,” Tatijana reminded gently. “I’m going to shift and you’ll have to climb up my wing to get onto my back.” She looked around. “I’ll need a little room.”

She didn’t wait. Tatijana was so fast at shifting into the form of a blue dragon, and so completely engulfed, mind and body, immediately, that Fen realized she was far more comfortable in that form than in her own.

By dragon standards, she might have been considered small, but there in the forest and so close to them, she seemed enormous—and beautiful. Her scales were iridescent blue, shimmering in the surrounding mist. Spikes ran along the ridge of her back down her long tail to end in a lethal-looking spear. Her eyes were large and emerald green, faceted like sparkling diamonds.

“Magnificent,” Zev said. “Tatijana, that’s incredible.” He glanced at Fen. “Did you see how fast she was? I would have thought a dragon would take a few minutes.” He attempted to rise, holding on to the tree trunk for support.

Fen could see the extent of Zev’s injuries. He’d been badly wounded in dozens of places. Deep chunks of flesh had been torn from him. His face was etched with pain. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He didn’t make a sound, as stoic as ever, but his skin looked a little gray.

“Hang on,” Fen ordered, using his most compelling voice. Low. Velvet soft. A sneaky compulsion that slipped in on an alpha when the most commanding voice would never work. He stood up himself, blocking out the rush of pain as he got to his feet.

His respect for Zev was growing with every passing minute spent in his company. He’d met many tough Lycans, good men who knew how to fight in a battle, but clearly Zev was a cut above the rest. Lycans couldn’t cut off pain the way Carpathians could. They endured it and fought on. The really great ones, like Zev, stayed in the battle even when others would have passed out.

Fen crossed the distance between them, one hand sliding over the body of the dragon in a long caress. “You’re a lucky man, Zev,” he observed.

“A privilege,” Zev agreed. “I never thought I’d ever get this close to one. They’re long gone now from this world.”

He didn’t protest when Fen slipped an arm around him to aid him. That told Fen more than anything, that Zev was badly injured. Tatijana extended her wing toward Zev. Fen helped him cover the ground to get to the wing.