Dark Lycan (Carpathian)

Tatijana’s soft laughter slipped into his mind. I think wolf man has a chip on his shoulder. I will have to remember that when you’re tired, you’re a little bit grumpy.

They invited me. But his mood was slipping away with her teasing. It was impossible to keep a Lycan’s foul temper around her, even if he wanted to. He sent her a small glimmer of a smile and when her eyes met his, his heart reacted with a hard bang. You do get to me, woman.

She looked smug. And pleased. Her eyes took on a sparkle. I know.

Gregori led the way to the large wraparound porch, shaded by a roof held by strong stone columns. The moment he set foot on the exquisite wooden planking, the heavy door opened, and Mikhail filled that entrance.

There was no mistaking the prince of the Carpathian people. His power was raw, yet controlled. The energy burned in and through him, barely contained. Fen had often met his own prince, and yet never had that raw power been so strong in him. Mikhail looked princely with his wide, straight shoulders, tall physique and eyes that held the weight of their world in them. He had seen battle on many occasions. He had seen the decline of his people and had turned them around to grow anew.

“Fenris Dalka,” Gregori provided. “And his lifemate, Tatijana Dragonseeker.”

The prince’s gaze moved to Tatijana. For the first time Fen felt her tremble. It was slight, but it was there. She was just a little nervous to face her prince after she had struck out on her own. Maybe feeling a little guilty even, that she had tried to escape Gregori’s care.

“I see that. You both are welcome. Please enter of your own free will.” He stepped back to allow them both the decision to enter his home.

The house was suspiciously quiet. He was given entrance, but Mikhail’s lifemate, Raven, and their son were conspicuously somewhere safe. He didn’t blame the prince or Gregori. He expected nothing less of them. He was, after all, completely unknown to them and he was bringing a battle right to their doorsteps.

“Thank you.” He stepped across the threshold and knew instantly the house itself was tied in some way to the prince and his powers. With one hand he swept Tatijana behind him, his hand staying there in warning to her as he advanced.

He felt the weight of stone and wood. The walls breathed in and out. The curtains fluttered, drawing his eye. They twisted. He felt the urge to put out his arms and spin in a slow circle, allowing the house to see his cache of weapons. He held firm against that slow continuous push and stood, feet slightly apart, upright, arms loosely at his sides.

Gregori’s laughter was soft. “I told you he was a warrior through and through. He isn’t a man I want to tangle with.”

But he would in spite of everything he was saying so smoothly. Gregori was laughing. Looking comfortable. Luring Fen in, making him feel comfortable. Fen had met a few like him. There was nothing humorous whatsoever about a man like Gregori Daratrazanoff. He would have already gone through the kill a hundred times in his mind, planning every move out in his mind until he would be smooth, fast and deadly should Fen prove to be treacherous. His backup plans had backup plans. He was dangerous and anyone who couldn’t see that was an imbecile. Fen didn’t count himself among the imbeciles.

Fen made no attempt to approach the prince or anything else in the house. The game of high stakes chess had begun. Their move. The prince waited courteously for Tatijana in the open doorway. She remained motionless, waiting for Fen’s signal. If it was a trap, she could better aid him from outside.

Time seemed to stand still. Somewhere an owl hooted. A wolf called. A slight breeze moved through the forest, sending leaves quivering.

Mikhail sighed. Extending his hand to Tatijana, he gave her a small, old-world bow along with a charming smile. “Come, my dear. There seems to be posturing going on and I would very much appreciate your help in defusing this situation.”

Tatijana kept her gaze on Mikhail, but stirred in Fen’s mind. Yes? No? It was his decision. He barely inclined his head. She took Mikhail’s hand, smiled up at him and stepped over the threshold into the house. There was no reaction from the house and Mikhail led her over to a ring of comfortable chairs and gallantly seated her.

“Thank you, Tatijana.” He waved his hand toward the chair beside Tatijana’s in invitation to Fen.

The location of the chair was the least vulnerable seat in the room, positioned for the best defense, designed no doubt to make Fen feel even more comfortable with them, but it had been long since he’d been enclosed in a room with four walls meeting. He was, however, used to meeting with many possible enemies—but this time, he had a woman to protect.

Worry about protecting yourself. I can take care of me, Tatijana assured.

She had that little mischievous tone he found himself listening for. I’m becoming quite partial to you, my lady.

I know. Smug.