Barbara J. Hancock - Legendary Wolf

He should have prevented Anna from frightening Lev away. He’d been thrown by her sudden appearance after so many months. Soren fisted his hands and leaned his forehead on his knees to block out the infinite stars. He should have been completely immune to any old feelings he’d had as the red wolf. He should have driven her away before she could do any harm. Instead, he’d been shocked by his body’s yearning to touch her, to confirm the pull he felt was mutual. His reaction to her as a woman had distracted him from the Volkhvy power she could channel.

He’d been completely unprepared to face who and what she’d become.

His shock had allowed what had happened. It was his fault Lev had disappeared again. It would be on him if his brother never returned.

Beneath the crystalline sky, by the harsh light of a thousand stars, Soren vowed he would not be caught unprepared again.

* * *

Anna changed out of the white dress that hadn’t served her well. It did no good to wave the flag of truce with an enemy who didn’t believe in parley. Soren was blinded by his distrust of witches and his distaste of the Ether. As long as she channeled its power, he would see her as tainted. Yet how could he expect her to be anything other than her mother’s daughter—even if her mother was the Light Volkhvy queen?

She prepared for bed in new ways that weren’t at all automatic for her. Hot running water and soft new sleeping garments might be a delight to her for the rest of her life. She appreciated the luxury and comfort, even as she braced herself against the discomfort of other sensations.

There was a filament of enchantment stretched between her and Soren Romanov. It pulled painfully from deep within her chest to wherever he had gone to pass the night. Like a string stretched taut almost to the point of breaking, the filament threatened to release if she moved too suddenly or breathed too deeply.

She was caught and held by someone who didn’t want to hold her at all.

It was the sword that created the tenuous but inexorable bond in spite of her best intentions to let the red wolf go. She pressed both hands against her chest to try to ease the pain. For sleep, she’d allowed herself to remove the protective gloves. The tingle was slight now that she was alone. There were distant threats, but she was tired and her power ebbed low. As she pressed her palms against the pain, the natural body heat in her hands soothed her.

It would be a relief to sever the thread that bound her and Soren together. For a while, as the late-night world grew silent and the doubts in her head grew loud, Anna thought about her aviary. She’d retreated to the roof of the castle so many times. Did her aviary wait there for her still, even though nothing and no one else had waited for her?

The idea of running quickly through the sleeping castle on one of the routes she would know even in the pitch darkness was seductive. But this was no longer her home. She had been reduced to a guest. An unwelcome guest. Her aviary wasn’t hers anymore.

Besides, the red wolf wouldn’t be there.

It would be cold and empty, filled only with the echoes of a life that was no longer hers. Her pain increased with that vision of her new reality.

Would the sword’s destruction really end her torment?

She feared the enchanted filament that bound her to Soren Romanov wasn’t entirely dependent on the emerald sword.

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