Dark Lycan (Carpathian)

“Nor will he,” Mikhail said in that same low tone. “Did you ask him why he didn’t send for the greatest healer the Carpathian people have for his brother? He loves Dimitri, and he’s fought hard to save his life. You were close, yet he didn’t send for you, Gregori. What does that tell you?”


Gregori’s silver eyes slashed at Fen. “I do not know that answer, Mikhail.”

“Really?” One aristocratic eyebrow rose. “He tells himself he is protecting his brother, but more, he is protecting me. He believes no other will guard me as you will. He is just as concerned that we have not one, but two of these Sange rau suddenly close to me and our children. He did not want you to leave my side. Isn’t that the truth, Fenris Dalka?”

One couldn’t very well lie to the prince, but he sure didn’t want to admit he was protecting the man. He said nothing.

“That doesn’t explain why he will not swear his allegiance to you,” Gregori pointed out.

“Doesn’t it?” Mikhail turned cool dark eyes on Fen. “He believes if he swears his allegiance to me, that if the Lycans insist on destroying all like him, he’ll put me in a position of having to go to war with them.”

Fen felt the brush of Tatijana’s hand down his jaw in a small caress. He didn’t glance at her, knowing she hadn’t moved. She saw too much inside of him and that was bad enough. He could share his innermost thoughts with a lifemate but . . . He would have preferred Mikhail didn’t know anything at all about the way he thought. It only made him believe Mikhail Dubrinsky was a worthy leader. He could look into the eyes of a man and know his truth.

You’re just embarrassed because he recognizes you’re not nearly the bad wolf boy you present to the world.

Tatijana’s intimate whisper in his mind twisted his heart. She added so much to him, without even knowing it. After centuries of being utterly alone, continually holding the whisper of temptation at bay, keeping the shadows back, to have her light pouring into his heart and soul was nothing short of a miracle. In his darkest hour, her light would always be there for him.

“Fen, you are not the only Carpathian who is of mixed blood now,” Mikhail reminded in that same, low compelling voice. “I would never give up a single one of my people to make a treaty with any other species. Clearly we will have to address the council and make them understand the difference between a Carpathian/Lycan mix and a vampire/wolf mix. They are intelligent people and once it is made clear, they will see reason.”

“You are looking at centuries of prejudice, Mikhail,” Fen said. “I watched them condemn a great man, an elite hunter, one who had spent years battling and suffering to destroy the Sange rau preying on their packs. They condemned him to a slow torturous death they call Moarta de argint.”

“Death by silver,” Gregori translated.

Fen nodded. “It’s the most painful way a Lycan can possibly die. It takes days. They place hooks of silver through the body and hang them upright. Every move the victim makes trying to get away from the pain of the silver only embeds the hooks deeper. The silver spreads through the body, burning everything it touches until eventually the heart is pierced through. I’m whitewashing this for you, but it’s an ugly brutal way to go. Vakasin had given up his life to protect his pack, yet when they realized he was Sange rau, his own pack turned on him. They killed him knowing he had battled the Sange rau time and again for them.”

Sorrow welled up—the sorrow he’d never been able to truly feel for the man who had been his friend and partner for a full century as they battled the most difficult enemy they’d ever taken on. Vakasin had been a good man. One of the best hunters Fen had ever known. He had found it shocking and unbelievable that his own pack could turn on the elite hunter and condemn him to the Lycan’s most torturous, brutal death imaginable when they knew he was a good man.

Fen nodded toward Tatijana. “She saved Zev a few nights ago and extracted the information on weapons and how to make them properly. I would suggest arming every single warrior and, if possible, even the women just to be safe. Once you know how to kill the rogues, don’t be fooled into thinking you’re safe. They hunt in packs. This rogue pack is the biggest I’ve ever run across in all my centuries of hunting. However many silver stakes you think each person should carry on them, double the number.”

He was uncomfortable within the four walls and getting more uneasy by the moment. Healing and going out of one’s body took its toll. So, apparently, did emotions. “The wolf you see is not the one you’re in danger from. They have a pack mentality and they’ve been hunting all their lives with packs. They’ll go for the belly, rip you open and spill your insides out just to incapacitate you. No matter how high you think they can jump, double it and know it’s still probably higher. You’re never safe just because you take to the air.”