The absence of the sword’s hum was a keen ache in her bones. The ache she also felt over Romanov’s rejection was overshadowed by concern. He had stood for Bronwal and his lost family for so long. She hadn’t realized what risks she would be asking the legendary warrior and his black wolf to face when she’d first climbed the mountain in the snow. Escaping Grigori had dominated her mind.
If she escaped him now at the price of Romanov’s life, she would be tortured in a completely different way.
She didn’t leave the sword where it had fallen in the chapel. Romanov had walked out without picking it up. He’d left it dull and silent at her feet. She had leaned over and picked it up herself. She’d resheathed it, and it was back at her side. She wouldn’t meekly accept his decision. The sword had chosen, and she had accepted its call.
Romanov had rejected her, but what if he decided to shift to save her? What would that say about his true feelings for her? Would the sapphire sing to life in time for her to prevent his sacrifice?
She had to hope the sapphire understood Romanov’s heart better than she could.
But hope wasn’t enough. She only had one more week before the Gathering, and in that space of time she had to make Ivan Romanov change his mind. The sword had to be brought to life again before Grigori arrived. Somehow she had to get Romanov to accept her as the wielder of the sword and his mate, in spite of his desire to protect her. She had to risk her pride and her heart for a legendary warrior who might simply be fulfilling his duty. They’d had a fiery connection from the start. The chemistry between them was unmistakable. But the sword required a pledge of the heart, and Romanov might have lost his ability to love long before they met.
* * *
Elena in the chapel with Vasilisa had been almost more than he could bear. He’d always hated the Audience. The mirror was a horror. The Light queen had the power to destroy all he had left with the flick of her hand. Even when he’d been treated as a treasured pet as a young boy, he understood she wasn’t human and feared her. Her feelings were more volatile and changeable than a mere mortal’s could be. When his father had betrayed her and the curse had come down on Bronwal and all connected to it, his fears had been confirmed.
He’d walked a fine line with her ever since.
The Audience was required. He was compelled to attend and held in a paralyzed state while it occurred to ensure that the queen had safe passage. All of that had been a trial and tribulation he endured for his people time and time again.
But up until Elena walked over the threshold of the chapel’s door, he hadn’t known true terror.
If Vasilisa even suspected he cared for the petite ballerina, she would be lost. Hadn’t the Light Volkhvy queen taken everyone he’d ever loved away from him? The sword had almost given him away. The sapphire had almost refused to lose its glow. He’d had to let the black wolf totally claim his heart in order to fool Elena and the queen. Once Elena believed him, the sword finally let her go.
He’d felt the sapphire die. He’d felt the cold numbness claim the woman he could have loved. And the black wolf had howled long and loud in the deep recesses of his body. Its savagery had helped him fool Elena, but even the wolf didn’t want to let her go.
All the while, he’d stood facing the mirror, unable to turn around. He hadn’t seen Elena’s face. Worst of all, he hadn’t been able to go to her when Vasilisa saw the mark of Grigori upon her. The black wolf did more than howl when the Light queen said that the witchblood prince had claimed Elena. It had clawed and chewed and shredded his soul with its vicious teeth trying to get out.
He had exposed Elena. To protect her from the queen, he’d betrayed her to Grigori. And the only way he could put it right was to loose the alpha wolf to prowl, even if that allowed Bronwal to fall.
* * *
Grigori knew where she was.
The afternoon faded into evening, and every second seemed to tick away like a bomb she was powerless to defuse. Her connection with the sword had hidden her from Grigori. Now that the connection was gone she felt exposed. It wouldn’t matter if she tried not to sleep. She’d tried that before. She’d used coffee and caffeine pills. More and more until her hands shook and her heart raced. And still she had always eventually slept. He hadn’t been able to physically touch her, but he was always there as soon as her eyes closed. One blink too languorous at 3:00 a.m. and suddenly she was gone into a nightmare world she couldn’t escape.
And that was when she’d been protected by her mother’s spell.
The Dark Volkhvy woman had touched her.
Elena remembered the shock of the power flowing through her and the knowledge that her mother’s protection was almost gone.
Elena trained for hours all alone in the courtyard with a sword that didn’t sing. But once the sun went down, she retreated to the tower room. The key to the lock was still around her neck. She’d recognized the roses and thorns on the mirror in the chapel. It wasn’t odd that the Light queen’s motif was worked into the construction of Bronwal. It had been built for her champions.
There was no use in locking the door. She did it anyway. Grigori wasn’t welcome. She wanted to make that perfectly clear even if her will didn’t matter to him at all. He might not need her permission, but it still felt empowering not to give it. Eventually, after hours of waiting as wakefully as she could in a chair, she moved to the bed she’d shared only the night before with Romanov. The sheets had been changed. Patrice or Bell had come and gone. She didn’t even have the comfort of his scent on the pillows.
She placed the Romanov blade beside her. It was a cool comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. Even powerless, it reminded her of whom she had chosen to be. She wouldn’t allow Grigori to take that from her even if he hurt her in her dreams. The fear that he might be able to physically touch her now caused her stomach to clench.
But then she heard toenails on the stairs.
First Lev and then Soren appeared at the door. She saw their great white and red heads position themselves on either side like sentries. They weren’t as big or as powerful as Ivan, but they were here. Perhaps their presence would keep Grigori away.
* * *
He found Lev and Soren where he’d ordered them to stand. They were wide-awake and alert even though it was well past midnight. He quietly approached and looked in the door. He didn’t try the handle. He needed to believe it was locked against him. One glimpse of Elena asleep on the bed they’d shared made him want to join her there and pull her into his arms.
He didn’t.
Instead, he turned and placed his back against the door. He crossed his arms over his chest.
Her whereabouts might be visible to Grigori once more, but if he tried to appear he would face all three of the Romanov wolves.