Legendary Beast Read online

  Lev’s head fell back against the tree. His broad chest expanded as he finally took a deep breath beneath her. The fire had died down to nothing but embers while they were distracted. It didn’t matter. The shadows couldn’t hide what they’d shared.

  Not the pleasure, or the pain.

  Chapter 12

  The wolves didn’t return that night. The river ran long, and there was no telling how far they’d have to travel to find another bridge or a spot shallow enough for crossing. The Volkhvy didn’t appear. No doubt they didn’t want to risk finding the white wolf instead of their human quarry, especially without the pack to back them up.

  Lev had almost shifted when they leaped over the ravine.

  She didn’t know how far he’d run afterward, but the next morning when Madeline woke, she found her pack by the remains of the fire. Lev had gone back for the possessions they’d abandoned by the trail. Unlike the natural wolves, Lev was tireless even in his human form.

  She was happy to see her backpack with its meager supplies. But she didn’t express her thanks. The events of the night before were too fresh and raw in her mind.

  She now had a vivid memory of his kisses and his intimate touch. She hadn’t allowed her imagination to go beyond his lips before. Now it ran wild, fueled by the pleasure he’d given her.

  It was hard to conceive how even a thousand years of sleep could have clouded previous kisses and caresses from her mind. Her body was more liquid than it had been before. She was more aware of every nerve and every erogenous zone. Her lips were tender, her nipples fully peaked in the early morning mountain air.

  Her sensations were all hers, thank goodness. Nothing remained of the unusual connection she’d experienced with Lev the night before. He was completely shut off from her. His absence was a hollowness. Her chest echoed with every heartbeat. Her stomach felt as if she were balanced at the edge of the highest height, waiting to fall.

  Instead of pointlessly aching, Madeline rose and washed in the spring. Lev had gone to scout the way. She stretched and went through several rounds of sword positioning while she waited for him to return. Her moves were more graceful than they’d been before. The hilt was hers. It fit perfectly to her hand, even if the ruby didn’t glow.

  What other lasting effects might exist because they’d embraced the connection?

  But even the sword couldn’t distract her from the urge to sketch. The image of Lev at the edge of the ravine when he’d been near shifting grew ever more vivid in her mind’s eye. She had to commit that moment to the pages of her sketchbook now that it was back in her possession.

  She kneeled beside her pack and unzipped the compartment that held her drawing materials. Her sketchbook was no worse for wear from its abandonment. She pulled it from the pack and then riffled through the stubs of remaining charcoal until she found one that was still fit for use. Had she drawn back in those days before her long sleep? She couldn’t imagine not bringing the vibrant images in her head to life in some way. This time was no exception. In fact, the Lev by the ravine seemed to haunt her even more than the white wolf on the cliffs of Krajina. There’d been something so striking about his tremendous strain as the white wolf had tried to break free.

  Madeline lost herself to the sketches, as she always did. One second she pressed the first mark of charcoal into the page. The next she was covered in smudges of coal dust, and a sketch had come to life.

  Lev Romanov had come to life, close to shifting and strikingly heroic.

  He’d saved her. He’d protected the wolves. And all without shifting completely. The terrible strain in his bulging muscles and his tense features had been poignant for some reason. She captured the beauty of his handsome face and muscular figure, along with some elusive quality of desperation in his eyes she couldn’t quite name. Only when the sketch was complete did the compulsion to draw release her. She stared at the drawing for a long time, trying to understand the secret her artistic eye was trying to tell her.

  Finally, with a sigh, she gave up and tucked away her sketchbook.

  “I’ve found a game trail that heads in the direction we need to travel,” Lev said. He came back into camp at an easy jog. He always made movement look effortless. His muscles responded powerfully to his commands with extraordinary agility that would have looked like work on another man. For Lev, running was like breathing. Automatic. Easy. He had changed out of his shredded clothing into similar pants and a tunic he’d carried in his bag. His vest was the same. She’d held fistfuls of the black leather when she...

  Madeline looked up from Lev’s broad chest, and her attention landed on the vulnerable pulse point at the base of his throat. She lifted her gaze quickly again. Unfortunately, in doing so, she met his eyes. He had tied his hair back into a queue. Nothing shaded the vivid blue of his irises from view—not night or thick waves of hair.

  “We’ve wasted enough time,” Madeline said. “They want to keep me away from Trevor, but I won’t let them stop me.”

  Lev blinked and turned away. He didn’t reference the night before. But she could see his lips were pink from her kisses. She wondered if his mouth still tingled like her own. And then she cursed herself for wondering. The wolves and the Volkhvy weren’t the only challenges she faced. Besides needing to improve her skill with a sword and strengthen her muscles and her mind, she had to steady her nerve against Lev Romanov’s allure. The sketches she’d added to her book were a confession she wasn’t ready to make.

  Most importantly, she couldn’t risk waking the ruby again, because in doing so she woke other things that were much harder to resist.

  Madeline dug into her backpack for a change of clothes and an energy bar. She hoped the shade provided by the forest canopy over the trail would hide her heated cheeks.

  Lev hadn’t shifted. Even when he was bathed in the ruby’s light, he had kept his human form—but just barely. His clothes had been shredded because his muscles bulged and strained nearly to the point of shifting. He might succumb to the white wolf if she woke the ruby again. And even though she knew he and the white wolf were the same creature in different forms, it was the wolf she feared. As the wolf, Lev had attacked Krajina. He might have hurt her or Trevor if Vasilisa, Anna and his brother hadn’t intervened.

  Or worse, Madeline might have had to use the sword against him.

  She had to wield the sword against the marked Volkhvy without calling on its enchantment as she had done over the ravine. Hopefully, they could save Trevor without risking the appearance of a white wolf she didn’t fully trust Lev to control.

  * * *

  The morning was sharp, like broken glass. Everywhere he looked, bright rays of sunshine seemed to glint in his eyes, and every step he took seemed to slice into his skin. He’d been hardened against every cut for so long that the pain took him by surprise.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her. Their combined needs had been too much for the deprivation he’d endured for so long. He couldn’t resist her. And she had wanted to taste him so badly, her body had been shaking with the hunger of it. Never mind that his hunger had enhanced and increased hers. Lev hadn’t been able to tell where his desire stopped and hers began. Their connection had always been like that. All-consuming. As savage as the beast beneath his skin. As tender as Madeline’s sweet, ferocious release.

  God. She’d always responded to his touch. They were match and tinder. Even now. Even now when it tortured him completely. But he had been unprepared for her last night. He’d been shaken from the near shift and their narrow escape. He’d been flayed by the ruby’s aura and the way it had knit familiar threads of power between him and Madeline, connecting them together as they’d once been connected long ago.

  For brief seconds, he’d felt whole.

  But the feeling had been a lie.

  Worse was yet to come. The horses were gone, and they were still several days’ ride away from Straluci. He could shorten that by a day, but it wasn’t going to be easy. The distance was negligible for him
even in his human form. Especially now. His years as the white wolf had only strengthened his muscles and his endurance. Madeline was tall, and she was reclaiming the muscles of her athletic build, but physically she would be no burden to him. He watched her as she strapped her sword onto her back. She’d modified the positioning herself to perfectly match up her reach with the sword’s hilt. He’d seen her do this a thousand times before. She didn’t remember, but her body did. He could see her movements becoming stronger and more graceful.

  There was something else she wouldn’t remember. They’d counted on his supernatural speed and strength in the past when they needed to. He had carried her into battle many times as the white wolf, movements faster and more tireless than those of any horse.

  This would be different. He wouldn’t shift into his wolf form. She would never trust him to carry her rather than devour her whole. He would have to carry her as a man. The first challenge would be convincing her to allow it. The second challenge would be enduring the intimacy of her warm body pressed against him.

  * * *

  Madeline was worried. At top speed, she would be lucky to match half the distance the horses had achieved in a day. Lev couldn’t go without her, but she was only going to slow him down. She was stronger than she’d been when she first woke up. But her human strength, unenhanced by the ruby’s enchantment, wouldn’t be enough.

  “I hope your furrowed brow means you’ve realized we have a problem,” Lev said. He approached her as anyone would, with one foot in front of the other, and yet her body reacted as if his walk toward her was a seduction. Her breath caught. Her pulse kicked. Her eyes flicked away from his, only to land on his muscular legs encased in tight leather leggings. Her cheeks heated, because now that she’d actually felt the warm steel of his hips between her thighs, she couldn’t help noticing their power and remembering their heat even when he was simply walking her way.

  “Losing the horses has sabotaged our journey. The marked Volkhvy might have beaten us after all,” Madeline said. She forced herself to focus on their enemies rather than her traitorous reaction to Lev as he came to stand near her.

  Near was bad. The pull of attraction between her body and his was a powerful force. It was hard enough to resist when they weren’t standing close together. It wasn’t the sword. It was as dead on her back as it had been before she woke it to help them leap over the ravine. He was a dangerous and damaged man, but she couldn’t deny he was attractive. Especially after she’d experienced sheer, wanton pleasure from his touch.

  Distance was best.

  To show her body who was in control, she stepped several strides back from Lev.

  “It will take me too long to reach the portal,” Madeline said. She hoped Lev wouldn’t notice her skittish reaction to his proximity, but she hoped in vain. He had the white wolf’s senses and his predatory nature. His blue eyes narrowed slightly. His jaw tensed. He took a step following her retreat, but then he seemed to catch himself and stop.

  “No, Madeline. It won’t,” he said. It was almost a growl. Each syllable of her name was uttered deep and low. It wasn’t fear that made her stomach coil tightly in response. He’d growled her name exactly like that the night before. This wasn’t a seduction. This was them planning their next move and their strategy to beat the marked Volkhvy stalking them.

  And yet his growl made her burn in places she tried to ignore.

  She didn’t back away when he took another step toward her. Her chin lifted and her spine stiffened. She couldn’t will her desire away. She could only try to ignore it. What she couldn’t ignore was the reciprocal heat in Lev’s eyes when he faced her, toe-to-toe. He looked down at her for several long seconds before he spoke again. The sword didn’t glow, but they were suffused in heat just the same. Madeline held her breath because she was afraid her respiration would synchronize with Lev’s again. She felt the steady rise and fall of his broad chest. She pretended she could exist without oxygen and Lev’s touch.

  And then the big, tall man who towered over her dropped to one knee.

  She gasped for air as his face ended up only a foot away from her pelvis. He looked from the V of her thighs up the length of her torso to her face. Madeline panted as the track of his gaze left a trail of heat in its wake. He didn’t reach for her. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. Kneeling, he seduced her even more than he had by walking and talking. To have such power and pain held in check before her was a heady offering.

  One she couldn’t accept.

  Only she couldn’t force herself to turn away.

  The sun penetrated the forest canopy and glinted off his golden blond hair. She fisted her hands to keep from reaching to feel its warmth in his waves.

  “I’m fast. And strong. There’s no man stronger, and only one beast. The white wolf could carry you longer and faster, but I’ll offer you this back instead. We need to hurry. For Trevor. There’s no other way.”

  Madeline suddenly understood what the kneeling man offered. Not his heart. But his legs and his arms and his back. His Volkhvy-enhanced muscles and a thousand years of built-up endurance. For her. For Trevor.

  Her eyes burned. The echo of the howl she’d once released on his behalf tightened her throat. She unclenched her fists, but only to press against the hollow in the pit of her stomach. She willed the moisture in her eyes to dry as he looked up at her, waiting for her response.

  He didn’t wait patiently. A beast never could. His body was kneeling, but not in subjugation. She could see every muscle he possessed as tense and tight as his jaw. She could see the strain around his eyes and in the firmness of his usually soft lips. If he was stone, he was trembling stone, only seconds away from disintegration.

  “For Trevor,” Madeline agreed before Lev’s wild energy contained for her benefit could tear him apart.

  Only then did he reach for her, but he moved so quickly once her permission released his control that she cried out in surprise. But she fell silent when he merely clasped her hand and pulled her around his kneeling body. She knew then that he wanted her to ride on his back so his movements wouldn’t be hindered, as they would if he cradled her in his arms.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and, with no other choice, wrapped her legs around his waist. The intimacy of the position shocked all of her senses, still tender from the night before. He was as hard as she remembered. And as hot. Her body instantly heated against him. She’d felt like liquid when she woke that morning. Now it seemed as if her blood turned to lava.

  Lev rose so quickly to his feet that she gasped. She was forced to hold on tighter as he set off. He wasn’t fazed by her weight or the burden of her on his back. If his blood was affected by her heat pressed against the small of his back, she couldn’t tell as he ran.

  * * *

  Aleksandr didn’t pace. His hands were clasped calmly behind his back. He stood with his nose almost touching the cool glass of the wall of windows that overlooked the visible shimmer of the Ether. The cliff house had once been the Dark Volkhvy’s royal household. The king had lived here, and here the Darkest prince the world had ever seen had been born. He’d grown up influenced by the rift that existed in the canyon. It allowed Ether’s energy to seep and flow and shine more closely to earth than it did anywhere else.

  Now this cement-and-glass masterpiece of contemporary architecture was his. It had been built as much as a temple to the Ether as a home. Light Volkhvy carefully controlled the amount of energy they tapped. Like a black hole, the Ether was a hungry vacuum that would consume you if you were too greedy. The trick was to tap into the energy the vacuum expelled without being devoured.

  The witchblood prince had failed to control himself. He’d become addicted to the power. The never-ending vacuum of Darkness had eaten him from the inside out. The prince had been an abject lesson in maintaining control even when you were making the boldest of moves to claim the power, and the people, you desired.

  Aleksandr was in control. In this place, control
took every ounce of his Volkhvy abilities. His effort was supreme, and the rush that flushed his skin and thrilled his pulse was exhilarating. The constantly changing light hovering above the canyon was the only movement he required.

  “They failed. The Romanov wolf leaped over a river as if he had wings. No witch or wolf could follow.” One of Aleksandr’s men had come into the room with the update. He didn’t come any closer than the doorway. Not all Volkhvy were strong enough to handle the overwhelming presence of the Ether or what the Ether had done to—for—their leader.

  Aleksandr turned from the shimmering light. His man visibly blanched and stepped back. There were mirrors in the cliff house. Aleksandr had seen his own eyes. Their obsidian sheen was startling.

  But he was in control.

  He needed as much energy from the Ether as he could absorb in order to finish what he had started. He’d realized it as soon as they’d failed to kill the red Romanov wolf. When Anna, the Light Volkhvy princess, marked them all with a sudden flash of emerald power from the enchanted sword she claimed, Aleksandr had known more power would be his only chance to stand against her.

  More power and the total disruption of the triumvirate of wolf, sword and warrior woman Queen Vasilisa had created.

  He’d failed to stop the red wolf from connecting with his mate. They were united against him now, champions of Vasilisa once more. Just like the black wolf and his powerful Elena, the swan.

  He couldn’t fail this time. Not with the white wolf. Fortunately, Queen Vasilisa had almost done the job herself. She’d separated Lev and Madeline Romanov for over a thousand years with an enchanted sleep. He only had to keep them apart.

  “He shifted?” Aleksandr demanded.

  “No. He runs on two legs. He doesn’t shift even when attacked. He’s only a man.” The witch’s voice quavered as if he reported to a monster. None of Aleksandr’s people were cowards. Rising up against Queen Vasilisa had taken boldness and courage, and none were bolder than Aleksandr himself. He would sit on the throne when they broke her. He would lead the Light Volkhvy and the Dark. He would unite them with a common purpose of coming out of the shadows and claiming a world that should be theirs.