Lev found the alpha wolf in a cave above a clearing where the amassed wolves had collapsed as the sun rose. They didn’t behave as they should. The morning light revealed that they waited like puppets on the end of lax strings. He couldn’t see their masters or even smell them on the breeze, but the Volkhvy had to be behind the wolves’ odd behavior. Every wolf from old to young lay with their noses on their paws, as if they waited for instructions.
Only the alpha moved when Lev approached. He came from his shallow den on unsteady legs as though his natural protective instincts overcame the control imposed by the witches, but only with a fight. The tawny wolf’s barrel chest heaved harshly, and Lev felt a pang of empathy. He might have to fight the alpha. He might even have to kill him, if to be killed was the only alternative. But he didn’t like it. He knew what it was like to be manipulated by Volkhvy tricks and treachery.
He hardened his heart and stepped to meet the alpha wolf. He was less than half the size Lev would have been if he had been able to shift into his white-wolf form. But compared to Lev’s human form, the wolf was formidable. Especially if Lev was forced to meet the wolf’s large teeth with nothing but his fists.
They met eye-to-eye on the edge of the rise above the clearing. The wolves below remained on their bellies—a further indication that they were not in their right minds. Dominant wolves might fight for control of a pack, but an intruder would normally be met and driven away if a pack was sound.
“Leave this place. Resist. Don’t allow yourselves to be used by witches who aren’t even strong enough to fight their own battles,” Lev said. His words might be meaningless to the alpha wolf, but his stance and his intentions were not. The full might of the white wolf was in his voice and his gaze.
But more than that, he was here to defend his family. After years of searching for them, he wasn’t about ready to back down from a fight once they’d been found. He wouldn’t allow sympathy for these wolves to get in the way of protecting Madeline and rescuing Trevor.
The tawny leader of the pack whined. If he’d been free, he might have sprung for Lev’s throat or turned to run away from his challenge. Instead, he collapsed onto his belly, and his nose slowly descended to lie on his outstretched paws.
He definitely wasn’t normally submissive. The tawny wolf’s whines confirmed that the position at the feet of an adversary wasn’t his choice. He was being forced to wait. Lev turned to look down on the clearing. Several more wolves had arrived to join those waiting below. There were at least twenty prime adults now. The Volkhvy weren’t going to settle for a large pack. They were calling an army of wolves. And he couldn’t kill them where they lay. He couldn’t fight them until they attacked. Right now they were innocent. How could he harm them without provocation? He might be a savage monster, but he wasn’t going to exterminate these wolves when they had done nothing wrong.
“They’re going to wait until there are too many of you for me to fight, aren’t they?” Lev asked. He didn’t expect a reply. If he fell before an army of wolf fangs, it would be ironic. He’d always thought the wolf gnawing inside his own breast would devour him. Now he wasn’t so sure.
The tawny alpha dragged himself to his feet. Lev’s heart leaped, but the wolf didn’t attack. He only stretched his nose out to touch Lev’s loosened fist. In spite of the witch’s manipulations, the wolf acknowledged Lev’s dominance. For a second, hope rose, but the powerful creature fell back down on his belly after the exertion of briefly disobeying his witch masters.
“We are only pawns to the Volkhvy, my wild brother. I will remember that you tried,” Lev promised.
Madeline woke to an adrenaline rush. She scrambled to her feet to face an invisible threat. Lev was gone. The fire had burned itself out. A pile of smoking ash was all that was left as the sun dried the mountain mist that rose from the ground.
The forest was preternaturally silent. No birds sang. No rodents scurried through the trees. Something was very wrong. She felt her empty arms keenly, but she’d already known Trevor was gone. Waking to that truth wasn’t a surprise, although there was still a sharp pain and a hollow in her heart that echoed in the silence.
The rush of fear she’d experienced still caused her skin to prickle and her breathing to be shallow and quick. In fact, she felt suddenly as if she was running even though her feet were still. Madeline pressed her empty hands to her stomach, but only for a second before she bent to pick up her sword off the ground. She had to obey her instincts and the signals her body was giving her even if she didn’t understand: there was a threat. It was urgent that she face it. She just wasn’t sure what or why.
When Lev silently erupted from the trees, his body powerfully intent on his destination—her. Madeline’s sword was already raised in defense. He appeared between one blink and the next, and as he came to a stop only inches from her, she lowered her blade. He wasn’t shifting. He was still a man. His broad chest rose and fell, and it only took a few inhales and exhales in unison for Madeline to know that their breathing was in sync.
His exertion was her exertion.
Her gaze tracked over the hard face tilted toward hers to the hollow of Lev’s throat, where his pulse throbbed. As she watched, she felt the same beat—strong and steady—beneath her rib cage. The same rhythm. It wasn’t only their breathing that had synced.
They hadn’t touched since the training session by the creek, but somehow, she’d woken in tune with him in a way she hadn’t been before.
Her attention rose back to his eyes. They glimmered blue beneath thick sooty lashes as he met the shock she could feel widening her eyes.
Madeline held her breath as Lev’s breathing slowed. If she hadn’t, she was certain hers would have slowed as well. At least until the man facing her raised his hand to touch one calloused finger to the hollow of her throat. She didn’t pull away, even though she knew he felt the throbbing pulse point that was exactly in tune with his own.
“This was often the case when we faced adversity in the past. Don’t worry. It means nothing now. The ruby is dead,” Lev said. But he looked from his finger back into her eyes as if he thought it meant something in spite of his assurances. There were secrets she’d once understood in his irises. The sword didn’t glow. Lev couldn’t shift. But their heartbeats said those absent signs of connection were the lie.
“The alpha has lost control of the pack. He would have turned away if he could, but his body is no longer his,” Lev said. “He and his pack will do whatever the Volkhvy order them to do. For now, they wait, but it’s only a matter of time.”
His finger was warm on her throat. She waited for him to draw it away, but instead he allowed that one gentle digit to stay. The pad of his forefinger lingered on her skin. He looked from her eyes to the place where his finger rested and back. Was he gauging her reaction? Measuring her response? When she breathed again, the rhythm of her respiration was her own, but it betrayed the shortness of breath she felt, not from exertion, but from other things. Impossible things. Like the pleasure of his slightest touch. Like the intrigue of him seeming to enjoy the flush of heat that spread from his finger outward.
She didn’t have to look down. She was pale. She was certain that the heat she felt was obvious to him. His keen notice was as much a caress as his touch. Her shirt was unbuttoned only enough to allow the slightest hint of cleavage where the fabric parted, but she was certain her skin was flushed pink above the white cotton.
He said he couldn’t shift, but surely he would become the white wolf when the wolves attacked. She reminded herself of that monster—his teeth, his howl, his savage red eyes. But it was hard to remember the beast when she was made breathless by the man. He towered over her, but his touch was gentle and light. He didn’t grab or take. He tested the waters of her desire. He watched her face and studied her eyes.
Madeline licked her lips and regretted the move instantly when Lev’s blue gaze fell to her mouth. It was his turn to flush. She watched the color rise above his golden beard and could have sworn that her temperature rose along with his.
“You’re afraid I’ll shift even though I’ve said I can’t,” Lev mused. He saw everything, always, even the fear she tried to fight.
“I came to Bronwal to find the white wolf. I need him to save our son,” Madeline said. Her hand tightened on the sword. She’d nearly forgotten it. Talk of the white wolf reminded her why she had accepted the blade from Anna—to protect herself from the threat that would ride by her side.
“You’re very brave. You always have been. But bravery doesn’t negate fear. Or ignore it. Bravery makes plans. Bravery prepares,” Lev said. He suddenly lifted his finger to softly trace the line of her jaw from the lobe of her ear to her chin. Madeline trembled. She was afraid. He was right. But fear wasn’t all she felt for him, and that was the scariest sensation of all.
“You want to remember your skill with the blade so you can protect yourself from me...from the white wolf,” Lev said. His voice was husky and low. Its rough tone was a pleasant burr against the skin he caressed. But his finger had paused as if he didn’t give it permission to continue.
The man respected her fear of the wolf.
“You say I’m a warrior. You say I’ve always been brave,” Madeline said. “But all I know about myself is that I want to be prepared to face any danger I have to face to save Trevor.”
Lev’s hand fell away from her face. He stepped back so suddenly that she was left cold by the rush of morning air that filled his place. Madeline shivered, but the distance accomplished one thing. Her heartbeat was her own. The organ in her chest pounded slowly as it established its own rhythm separate from his.
“I’m sorry I am one of the dangers. I can only promise to protect you—from all wolves, including the one that lives in me,” Lev said.
“I’ll protect myself,” Madeline said. She raised the sword to show how it fit in her hand. She rolled her shoulders. She’d made the preparatory move a hundred times before. She didn’t remember, but her body did.
Lev’s eyes widened. She thought she detected appreciation in the small, tight smile that curved his lips.
“You’re remembering,” he said.
“My mind grasps for memories I can’t reach, but my body never forgot,” Madeline said.
When Lev’s lips softened, Madeline looked away from his smile. Yes. She thought maybe there were other things her body remembered, but she would never be free to indulge them. She might be brave, but she wasn’t reckless. She couldn’t be. Not when Trevor’s future depended upon her decisions.