Dark Lycan (Carpathian)

There was no censure in his tone, but she knew he wasn’t pleased she was unescorted. He was a great believer in their women being protected at all times. She’d gleaned that much about him before she’d gone to ground to heal. He was an excellent man to protect the prince, but he was not her keeper.

“I’ve stumbled across something I think is important for you to know, if you don’t already. I actually hoped to see you rather than disturbing the prince, so I’m grateful you were close. There is a rogue pack of werewolves hunting in this area and they answer to an alpha by the name of Bardolf. He is a mixture of both wolf and vampire blood and very difficult to kill. Lycans refer to such a mix as the Sange rau.”

“Bad blood,” Gregori translated.

Tatijana nodded. She was aware of time passing. Fen was on his own and wounded. She didn’t like leaving him so long. “Not only does his heart have to be removed from his body, but the silver stake must be inserted completely through the heart and then both body and heart burned. He can regenerate very quickly. It’s possible, but I don’t know, that he’s traveling with lesser vampires as well as the rogue pack.”

She turned to go, but then turned back. “An elite Lycan hunter by the name of Zev is staying at the inn. He fought them this night and was badly injured. I did my best to see to his wounds. I was forced to give him blood, although I didn’t allow him to know. MaryAnn and Manolito De La Cruz could be in danger.”

She hesitated. She had no idea what the Carpathians thought of mixing the blood of a Lycan and Carpathian. For all she knew they could consider it just as taboo as the Lycans. She had been told by Lara, her niece-kin, during one of the times Lara had given her blood while she was still healing, but that didn’t mean it was common knowledge that MaryAnn and Manolito were both Lycan and Carpathian.

“Why would they be in danger?” Gregori prompted.

She shrugged. “I only know that they are. I trust that you will warn them.” Tatijana turned around and began to walk away, holding her breath, afraid he would stop her. She nearly ran into him, trying to listen for him behind her. She had to stop abruptly, almost bouncing off his chest. He had moved unbelievably fast—and silently—and had blocked her way.

“Where did you get this information?” His voice remained pleasant, matter-of-fact even, but she could tell he was used to intimidating those he questioned and that he expected an answer. Those piercing, intelligent eyes moved over her, dwelling on the streaks of blood she’d forgotten to clean when she was so busy trying to heal both Zev and Fen.

“I ran across the pack. They killed a man who had been drinking earlier in a tavern I’d visited. We found his body in the forest as I was returning.”

He didn’t take his eyes from her face. “As you can see, we have heightened security around the prince, but it was more that I had a feeling and the fact that Raven and Mikhail’s son has survived his first two years than any real knowledge of a threat to the prince and his family. Lycans are extremely difficult to sense.”

“These are not Lycan,” Tatijana reiterated. “They’re considered a rogue pack, and the Lycan elite hunters have been called in to exterminate them. It would be a grave error to mistake the two.”

His eyebrow shot up. “I suppose it would. Who is ‘we’? Who was with you when you ran across this dead body?”

“That’s not relevant.” Because she was uncertain of how Carpathians reacted to the mixed blood between Lycans and Carpathians she had to protect Fen at all costs. She didn’t want to make an enemy of Gregori, but Fen was her lifemate. “I told you what I know because I felt as the protector of the prince you should be aware of the rogue werewolf pack. I’m still very uncomfortable in the presence of others. I need to leave.”

That much was true. She feared he would attempt to detain her, and she knew she would fight. The fight-or-flight syndrome was engrained in her. She couldn’t be held prisoner ever again. Her decisions, right or wrong, had to be her own. Gregori, with his impressive set of shoulders, implacable expression and glittering silver eyes was standing in her way and showed no indication that he would move.

“You are a Carpathian woman, Tatijana.” Gregori’s voice turned gentle. “Why would you think I would harm you in any way? I am sworn to protect you. There is no need to fear me.”

“I fear myself and my reactions to situations,” she replied honestly. “I must feel free. I do not want, nor can I have, guardians who watch my every move. I’m sorry if I appear to be difficult, but I have to be in charge of my own life.”

“Yet you ran into a rogue pack.” He indicated her lacerations. “You were in a battle, and you could have been killed. Our women are cherished. We protect them out of both love and respect. Along with our children, they are our greatest treasure.”