Mikhail faced into the wind, away from the encampment. He conjured images to keep him warm. Alabaster skin. Ardent sighs. Soul-stealing promises. Sea-blue eyes.
He smiled, a curl of contentment warming him from the inside out. This wasn’t the plan. She wasn’t the plan. So far from it that he chuckled at his own lack of foresight. The man who strategized every maneuver, rethinking every possible outcome before he took steps. She’d stepped directly in front of him. In his mind, she’d been the means toward their victory. An instrument to destroy the old monarchy and bring in a new one. A just one. He’d never calculated the possibility that the princess he awoke with a blood kiss would ensnare him so completely.
A distant thrumming sounded on the wind. Coming from the northeast. He stared into the darkness, knowing there was an open plain in that direction, though the snowstorm blocked him from seeing far, even with his vampire sight. The repetitive thrumming morphed into the recognizable thud of hooves. He drew his sword, double-fisted the hilt, and stared into the gloom, awaiting whatever threat drew nearer.
He inhaled deeply, unable to smell anything but ice and snow. The riders materialized, four of them, just off to the left. He lowered his sword as the distinctive red cloak of the female rider, and their familiar scents washed over him. He raised a hand in the air to get their attention.
Nikolai saw him first, jerking his mount toward Mikhail. The other three following, galloping right up to him. Nikolai leaped from his mount and shot to Sienna, lifting her from the saddle before she’d had a chance to dismount. Sienna pulled down the white scarf she’d wrapped around her face, her breaths puffing out white clouds.
“Nikolai. Sienna. What’s wrong?”
Sienna’s expression appeared desperate.
“Captain, we must see Mina right away.”
“Tell me what this is about.”
His gaze shifted to the other two riders. One was Dane Godric, the hart wolf, who rode in his human form, his amber-gold eyes shining like burning suns in the dark. The other man, hooded but without any shield over his face, which revealed the hard countenance of a dangerous vampire, a patch over one eye, a vicious scar trailing from beneath.
Nikolai noticed Mikhail’s discerning observation of the men. “This is my cousin Riker, back from Cutters Cove.” The vampire with the patch nodded.
Mikhail remembered the tale Nikolai told of his cousin who’d been tortured at the Glass Tower for information on himself, Sienna, and the Black Lily. The man had been battered and gouged with blades of gold to be sure the scars would remain. Apparently, they had.
Nikolai nodded to their other companion. “And Dane came along as well. We rode hard to get Sienna here as quickly as we could.”
“Please.” Sienna stepped forward, a wisp of her red-auburn hair caught on the wind, an urgent plea in her eyes. “I must see her.”
“What’s happened?” Foreboding dripped in the air like a black pestilence.
“Can we get inside, Captain?” Nikolai glanced around. Even as he spoke, the wind died down from the constant roar it had been for hours.
Before Mikhail could turn and lead them away, Sienna gripped his forearm with a gloved hand. “Two nights ago, I had a dream. A premonition.” She glanced sideways at Nikolai.
Nikolai stepped closer. “The hartstone is speaking to her again.”
“Go on,” Mikhail urged.
“I dreamed of a great hall in a beautiful castle. The white dragon sigil of Arkadia hung behind the throne dais, where a king sat near the cradle of his babe. Queen Morgrid was there, demanding the babe be given to her youngest son in marriage when she was of age.”
Mikhail frowned. “This isn’t a dream. This is the true story of Mina’s birth.” Why would they come all this way to tell him a tale they already knew?
“Yes,” said Sienna, still clutching his arm. “But listen. Queen Morgrid cursed the babe and left. Then the white witch came and gave her blessing.”
He nodded. He knew all this. What was going on?
“Do you know what the white witch decreed?”
“Yes. She will become queen and save them all. I don’t understand why this is so urgent.” Mikhail’s agitation prickled along his skin.
“No,” said Sienna, shaking her head. “She said, ‘You will drink fire into your soul and awaken the beast of vengeance and righteousness.’ This is what will bring about the victory.”
Mikhail glanced at Nikolai then back to Sienna, at a complete loss why this was important.
“Hear me, Mikhail.” Sienna pressed close, gripping him with both hands, a desperate urgency vibrating in her voice. Her green eyes glittered with sparks of gold. “I am the fire Mina must drink. The fire magic that races in my blood. I saw it. In the vision, I lifted the babe in my arms from the bassinet, then she transformed to herself as Mina is now. We were holding hands then she drank from my throat.”
Mikhail couldn’t help but wonder if this was all some effect of living within the Silvane Forest too long. So strange. And surreal.
Sienna seemed to see his doubt. She edged closer, intimately so, and cupped his face in her hands.
“This is no figment of my imagination, Captain.” Her palms heated against his skin, sending a tremble of energy into his mind. He saw the vision unfold.
Mina drinks from Sienna’s throat. A blast of white light. A field of dead soldiers dressed in black-and-red livery. Dominik’s army. And finally the tall green banner bearing the Arkadian sigil, the white dragon, whipping in the breeze in victory.
When he snapped from the vision, stepping out of her grasp, his heart pounded like a battle drum.
“This is urgent, Captain. I can’t sleep. Can’t eat. The magic has been pushing me hard since I awoke with the vision.”
“Come,” said Mikhail.
The other two dismounted, leading the horses by their bridles down the hill into the encampment.
Katya appeared at the bottom of the hill, wide-eyed and breathless. Not from fatigue. From fear.
“Mikhail!” She rushed to him.
“What is it?” He gripped her shoulders.
“Gavril is gone. He’s not at his post and there’s—there’s blood in the snow.”
A sudden blast of dread ripped through his body. The timing of this storm with the coronation and the intense darkness that swept over the land with it. The erratic wind hindering his vampiric senses. The constant nudges to his psyche that something wasn’t quite right.
Black magic.
He snapped his head in the direction of Mina’s tent. “No.”
Without a word, he left them, flashing through the encampment lightning-fast. The two guards at the door were crumpled on the ground, legs contorted unnaturally. Sweeping past, knowing what he’d find, he sped into the tent, finding exactly what he’d feared he would. Nothing. No one.