He worries. The undead is a master vampire. Look at the havoc he has wrought on the earth. The wolf pack worries for Ivory. I feel their fear and Mikhail, as prince of our people, feels it doubly.
Natalya sighed. It is done then. She waited for Falcon to lift the two adults and she took the children, whispering a command to ease their fears as they raced for the village.
It seemed an endless journey to Mikhail. He felt the tear in the fabric of his people. The injuries were great. He knew Gregori, a healer of tremendous skill, would not fail to feel the agony the two fallen fighters were experiencing. The fact that the energy was not concealed told all of the Carpathians what shape to expect Ivory and Razvan to be in.
Still, none of them were prepared for the horror of that sight. The farmhouse was a pile of rubbish. It looked as if a massacre had taken place, a slaughter. Blood was everywhere, and in the midst of it all sat Ivory, her wounds massive, yet she sought to heal the man lying in her lap. Two spears still remained in his body, while four lay broken and bloody a distance from him. His body was hacked nearly to pieces, with his arm in segments.
As they neared, it appeared as if Razvan was still breathing and Ivory's voice sang the healing chant softly, interspersed with another song none of them had heard before.
This cannot be, Gregori whispered in awe. He cannot still live. No one could live through that. He listened to the ebb and flow of Ivory's voice, melodic and tuned to the very heartbeat of the earth.
Mother, dear Mother, I plead with thee now. Daughter to mother, heal me and mine somehow. I am his light, he is my warrior strong. Challenged and scarred, he stood alone so long. Mother, I beg you to look deep within, try to see My soul gives light to his darkness, setting him free. Lifemates we are, two halves of a whole. Standing united, fighting evil, aged and old. Mother, dear Mother, hold us close in your arms. Provide us with shelter, with healing, hold off all harm. Mother, please bring balance, darkness to light Allow us to live, go forward to fight.
Ivory sang the words in the ancient tongue, the notes moving in and out of the rippling earth, twining with the ebb and flow of the sap in the trees and the heartbeat that was the earth itself. As she sang, the soil moved over their bodies, as if a living blanket, or the tide itself, always in motion, pouring over and around them, flowing into their wounds and encasing them in rich, black loam.
CHAPTER 10
Razvan floated in a sea of pain. He had been there many times before, but nothing like this. His body felt as if all the parts weren't connected. He couldn't move. Maybe he was just afraid to move, to worsen the agony ripping through his body. He felt movement around him, as if insects and other nameless things crawled over him. Or through him. Even that wasn't enough to induce him to try to move.
He heard whispers, so low at first he thought he was hallucinating, but the voice grew stronger in his mind. Soft. Feminine. Determined.
I am with you. You are not alone. I watch over you and protect you. I will not leave you alone deep within Mother Earth. Do you feel her surrounding you? Holding you in her arms? Welcoming you? Feel her, lifemate. Feel her when all else seems lost.
He was certain he was hallucinating. Xavier would never allow him to sink into the rich soil to be rejuvenated. There was only pain and suffering. An endless life of it. He couldn't let go. He forced his will to obedience. No matter how much his heart stuttered or his lungs fought to draw breath, no matter the pain, he couldn't let go. He had promised-her.
He remembered her, although she might have been a dream, another hallucination. He considered that when he could get his mind to work through the waves of pain. He doubted he could have conjured her up even in his wildest imagination. He tried to picture her, but he found he couldn't think, so he just lay listening, trying to hear her voice again.
Far off he could hear a chant, spoken in the ancient language, voices raised, both male and female. It was impossible to sort through them to find one single voice, and he was certain she wasn't chanting with them. He felt her, not surrounding him, but merged with him, sharing his body. He didn't like the idea. If he felt so much pain, was she sharing that as well? He didn't know the answer.
Again his mind drifted, as if, because he couldn't do anything to prevent her from feeling the terrible pain, he didn't want to know if she was with him. He had spent too many years causing those he loved distress and he refused to think he was doing the same to her.
No, my love. I am with you by choice. I asked to be bound to you. I share your body willingly. Hear me, Dragonseeker, you must hold tight to me. Never let me go.
If he could have smiled, he would have. Where was he going to go? He couldn't move. He could only lie there, believing himself insane. The only consolation was her voice. He tried to remember if he'd dreamt it up when he was young.
After a while-and it could have been nights, or weeks, or even months-he became aware of a heartbeat. The sound was unusual, deep, echoing through his surroundings, so that it vibrated through his body, every muscle and organ, torn sinew and bone. Each beat shook him, yet soothed him. Each beat brought a twisting pain, but at the same time was strangely comforting.
After a long, indeterminate passage of time, he found he listened for that sound, enjoying the echo of it through his battered body. Now came a stirring of interest in his dark world. What are you?
I am Mother Earth, my son. You have become a part of me. My daughter begged me to accept you, to heal you. You are hearing the heartbeat of the earth moving through your body, making you one with me, with all of nature.
Now he knew he was insane. He was having a conversation with the earth. It was strange that it didn't bother him that he'd lost his mind. The pain was no less, but he had grown used to it, and he found the darkness and warmth a peaceful, restful place. He drifted further out on the sea of pain, letting it carry him as he had done so many times in the past.
His mind turned to his woman. Ivory. His lifemate. She was so beautiful she took his breath away. He knew if he'd met her a few hundred years earlier, their lives would have been so different. He had never dared to dream of her-never wanted Xavier to know for a moment that somewhere in the past or the future, there was a woman who held the other half of his soul. It was such an intimate gift, the sharing of souls, and he would never taint that bond with Xavier's evil.
Had he not died and been buried to suffer in this place, he would have taken her to his secret garden, the one place he remembered from his childhood where life had been good and filled with joy. He had played there with his beloved sister, Natalya. They had laughed together so often, running free through the fields of flowers and skimming stones over the placid waters of the lake. He would have brought Ivory there to share his one fond memory.
He felt the brush of fingers against his palm. Warm breath on his face. Take me there, beloved. Show me this place you dream of.
He had not expected that his desire for her was so strong that he could conjure her up. He skimmed his hand down her face, shaping the angles, tracing the pad of his thumb over her soft skin. I would take you there for our first courtship. It is part of me, the best part of me. Long before Xavier took my soul.
He no longer has your soul. You gave it to me, remember?
Razvan searched his memory. He remembered her face. So beautiful to him that when he closed his eyes she was still there. Her body, covered in those thin white lines, badges of courage, a living embodiment of the strength of will she possessed. He wanted to kiss every line, follow the map of them over her body until he knew each white jagged line intimately. Her skin, soft beyond all imagining, called out for him to simply touch her, to feel how extraordinary she truly was. He loved the way she moved. Just watching her, the sway of her hips and her purposeful stride, brought him a simple joy he'd never thought to feel. The way her face softened when she knelt to greet her wolf pack made him wonder how she would look when she held their child to her breast.