Only freeing the wolf had allowed him to deny her.
Ivan Romanov stood on the ramparts of the castle. The sun rose above the horizon to bathe the neighboring mountain peaks with golden light, and the wind whipped Ivan’s hair wildly around his head. He played a dangerous balancing game. He was still in control. He still walked on two legs. But he’d allowed the wolf the greater part of his heart since last night. He’d discovered the ability when Vasilisa had asked him about Elena and the sword. The black wolf allowed him to deny his feelings for her because the wolf had been tamped down for so long that now all it wanted was the hunt and the feast, the run and the fight. He’d allowed those feelings to overwhelm his feelings for Elena during those moments with Vasilisa.
He’d immediately caged the wolf after that, but he’d had to loose it again last night. When he’d taken Elena into the hidden cavern to shield her from Grigori’s touch, he’d opened himself too much to their connection. He’d shown her his secret sanctuary and she’d shown him her heart. She didn’t simply offer to wield the sword or to fight by his side. She offered to care for him. The sapphire had lit the cave in a way he’d never seen. It had almost seemed as if his lover was responsible for the starlike glitter on the walls.
He closed his eyes against the strands of his hair that lashed against his face. But then he held them away with two hands fisted at his temples instead. When he closed his eyes, he saw Elena with her head thrown back and her hips thrusting up to meet him. She’d been bathed in the soft blue light of the sapphire blade and he’d known she was meant to bring it to life.
He’d allowed the wolf to rise because that knowledge almost led him to doom her with a pledge he could never allow himself to make.
Was this how his brother Lev had begun to degenerate? Had the white wolf claimed his brother’s heart before it had completely claimed his form? The black wolf howled with his every heartbeat. He could hardly see the glow of the sun because what he wanted to see was the blood of his enemies. The alpha had been too long denied. It was thirsty for Volkhvy blood. Dark, Light, it made no difference. The wolf wanted them all to fall before him.
When the time came, it would be easy to shift and allow the black wolf to devour Grigori. He could almost anticipate the perfect vengeance of showing how he felt about Elena by destroying the creature that had tormented her mercilessly for years. It would be the only way he could express what he felt without exposing her to the Ether. The only thing that marred his anticipation was the knowledge that in saving her he would also lose her forever.
The black wolf howled inside the heart it controlled as it waited impatiently for the shift it knew was coming. It was only a matter of time before the wolf devoured him, heart and soul.
Choosing to fully loose the wolf would be his last conscious act as a man.
* * *
Elena wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. Ivan had been opening to her. She’d sensed his emotion. He hadn’t brought her to the cavern simply to hide her from Grigori. He’d wanted to show her the refuge he’d sought when he was younger. He’d shown her his secret place and he’d shared the vulnerabilities he’d felt as a child.
But as their connection had seemed to burgeon, he’d given himself completely over to passion. She hadn’t complained. She’d joined him in physical release, again and again. Even when she’d lost all hope of him declaring his love.
It was enough for her that he declared it with his refusal to claim her as his mate. He was protecting her, and for a champion that was the greatest declaration of all. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough for the sword.
Her only pain came in wondering how he was able to keep silent about the feelings she couldn’t deny. Just as the mica sparkled on the walls of his cavern, her love for him seemed to radiate from every cell in her body, as they lay naked together.
But, again, it wasn’t enough.
The sword had gone dark.
She’d been awake when the stone dulled. By its dying light, she had traced the face of the man who refused to love her. With trembling fingers, she’d lightly brushed over his forehead, the full sweep of his dark lashes, the hollow of his cheek and his square jaw as if she could memorize his features. His lips had been soft and full in repose. The thick sweep of his hair, for once, had been swept back and out of his face by his position. She hadn’t fallen in love with his appearance, but it was beloved to her all the same. The cavern’s walls had retreated into shadows as all the artificial starlight had died. Tears had filled her eyes when she could no longer see his face. Romanov had slept through it while she cried. No one had seen her, but if they had she wouldn’t have been able to stop. She was strong in all things but this.
He was determined to save her even if it meant losing himself.
She would try to stop him.
She would give herself to Grigori if she had to.
But she was afraid. Because if he loved her as she loved him, her sacrifice might make him seek out the oblivion of the wolf even if he didn’t need to shift to fight Grigori.