A Shade of Kiev 3 (5 page)

W
e reappeared
in a pitch-black forest. The sound of rain on the canopy of leaves above was deafening, although the broad-leaved trees offered some shelter.

“Where are—”

I caught sight of Rhys slipping behind the trunk of a tree.

“Rhys?” I motioned to follow him.

“No, stay where you are,” he whispered back. “I’ll be right here.”

A howl pierced the night air. There was a rustling about ten feet away from me in the bushes, and the sound of sniffing. A few moments later, a massive black wolf bounded into the clearing. Its orange eyes glared at me as it bared its fangs.

“Over here,” the wolf growled.

A werewolf.
But this beast was larger and more fierce than any werewolf I’d ever seen before.

There was more rustling in the bushes and half a dozen more wolves entered the clearing—all just as huge.

“What is it?”

One of the wolves began to approach closer, sniffing the air to catch my scent.

“A witch.” A deep voice spoke from behind me.

I turned around to see Rhys walking out from one of the trees.

“You,” the wolf hissed, glaring at Rhys.

“He’s the one I saw by the mountain,” a second wolf growled. “He took Isiah and her pack.”

We’re kidnapping werewolves now? When will it end?

“Yes, that’s me,” Rhys said calmly.

“I’d suggest you leave now,” the wolf snarled. “Unless you enjoy the feeling of the flesh being sucked from your bones.”

“Your witch, on the other hand,” another wolf said, “can stay as long as she likes.” Its mouth salivated as it looked at me.

The werewolves began to close in around us. Rhys gripped my shoulder.

“Stay back,” he muttered.

He pushed me to the ground behind him just as the leader of the pack leapt toward us, its weight causing the ground to shake. As soon as I touched the leaves, a forcefield shot up around me.

My breathing quickened as two werewolves leapt toward me, only to be propelled back by Rhys’ barrier.

I didn’t know why Rhys didn’t just use one of his powerful curses to finish the lot in one swoop. Instead he withdrew a long silver dagger from his belt.

Maybe he wants to put on a show for me.

As the leader hurtled toward him, he dodged the creature’s jaws and swung himself up onto its back.

With one sharp motion, he stabbed the werewolf in the neck. The werewolf collapsed and Rhys jumped off.

“Who’s next?” Rhys’ growl sounded just as fierce as the werewolves’.

Another wolf leapt at him. Rhys dodged again and, spinning round, sliced through the animal’s back leg. The wolf howled in agony and collapsed, writhing on the floor as blood soaked the ground.

The other wolves now looked more hesitant to approach.

“What’s wrong? You can’t handle fighting me man to man? I’m not even using magic on you.”

His words incensed the werewolves who remained standing enough that three of them leapt forward at once. I gasped as one of them pinned Rhys to the ground, knocking his dagger out of his hand. Lowering its head to Rhys’ face, the beast stretched out its jaws. Rhys lifted his leg and kicked the wolf hard in its underbelly, hard enough to make the giant animal groan and loosen its grip for a second. That was all the opportunity Rhys needed to stab the wolf in the eye with his finger.

The wolf howled. It lowered its head to bite him again. Rhys caught its jaws just before they closed down on him and, though its sharp teeth must have been cutting through Rhys’ fingers, he pushed upward, jerking the wolf’s head back, and managed to reach for its second eye.

The wolf rolled off of him onto its back and thrashed about on the ground. Rhys got to his feet and glared around at the remaining wolves. They stared back at him, then backed away. Although they were clearly loath to, they didn’t see it as worth losing their lives or their limbs over Rhys.

Or perhaps they were just planning to return with reinforcements.

Once they’d all disappeared, Rhys finally used his magic again. He manifested a rope and tied the three werewolves lying on the floor together by their front legs. Then he grabbed the other end of it and approached me, dragging their tremendous weight along with him. His chest was heaving as he wiped his forehead with his sleeve and brushed away the black curls that framed his face.

He touched the protective boundary surrounding me and it disappeared just as suddenly as it had formed.

He held out his hand and I gripped it. He pulled me to my feet. I couldn’t stop staring at him. I’d known how powerful he was with magic. And I’d known that he was physically strong without it. But I’d had no idea that he was strong enough to tackle werewolves with his bare hands and barely break a sweat.
This is vampire-level strength.
I’d never seen any witch display such prowess without the use of magic.

Rhys walked over to his dagger and, wiping the blood off it with the hem of his cloak, slid it back into its sheath in his belt.

Still holding the end of the rope attached to the suffering wolves, he walked back over to me and held my hand.

He looked down at me through his thick dark lashes, still breathing deeply from the fight.

And then, before I could stop him, he reached for the back of my neck and pulled me against him, hungrily claiming my lips. He kissed me with a passion that I’d rarely experienced in him. His right hand hiked up my dress and rested on my inner thigh, the black rose etched in my skin prickling beneath his touch.

I was speechless as our lips parted. Raindrops dripped from his dark hair onto my cheeks as he stared down at me, his eyes burning with need.

“I love you, Mona.”

This man is going to be the ruin of me.

R
hys transported
us back not back to The Shade, but to our own island. As we appeared outside the main door of the castle, I almost screamed in fright as I laid eyes on the beasts he’d brought along with us.

Rhys took the werewolves down to one of the dungeons. I made my way up to our chambers at the top of the castle. He reappeared a few minutes later carrying a tray containing a jug of dark red blood and two wine glasses. I stared at the tray in disgust, daring to believe that this was werewolf blood.

He placed the tray down in the living room. We both changed into dry clothes and then sat by the fire.

I hadn’t said anything to him since he’d kissed me. I wasn’t sure what to say any more.

I understood that he was trying to train me to channel the power of our Ancients. My mind couldn’t be resistant to him. But I didn’t understand how loving me was mixed in with all of this. Rhys never was one to mix in his personal feelings with tasks in service of our ancestors. But now I found myself doubting his true motivation.

Is he just trying to train me, or is he also trying to win my heart?

Rhys sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the crackling fire.

I cleared my throat.

“So, what’s next?”

Rhys continued to stare at the fireplace, his irises glimmering in the flickering light.

He replied only after several minutes. “I want you to be safe for what is to come,” he said, his voice deep. “Most witches lose their minds before they even come close to succeeding.”

Although I’d heard about how difficult it was to become a Channeler, I’d never understood what was involved. Rhys, Julisse, Arielle and Isolde were the only Channelers among us.

Rhys glanced at me briefly before returning his gaze to the fire. “It helps,” he continued, “to have something to cling to.
Someone
to cling to. To place your faith in. Without that, you feel like you’re lost in oblivion. Holding onto sanity is like trying to grasp hold of sand even as it slips between your fingers… I remember what it was like.”

I felt more and more uneasy with each word.

“Most witches get lost and never find themselves again,” he continued. “They lose their ability to feel anything but pain and paranoia.”

I wondered then if Rhys was one of these people. Sometimes his passion and desire were almost tangible—like when he’d kissed me in the rain a few hours ago. Other times, he felt distant. Although he proclaimed love to me, I didn’t know if he was just remembering what he’d felt for me before he became a Channeler.

“So, uh, you had Isolde to keep your faith in?”

The shadow of a smile crossed his face.

“Yes. I had my aunt. That’s how I pulled through. But even then, it was difficult beyond measure.” He turned to face me again. “But you see, the stronger the bond is, the easier it will be. Being Isolde’s nephew, I have a natural bond with her. But it’s obviously not the same as… a lover, for example. It would have been easier had I had that.”

I averted my eyes to the floor, feeling uncomfortable beneath his gaze.

“Of course, you are already bonded to me,” he went on. “Physically. But mentally, I know you’re still not. And that is what will cause you problems once the process starts. I can guide you through this, but only if your mind becomes one with mine.”

I stared at him, my mouth drying out as his words sank in.

“And how do I know what you’re saying is true? How do I know you’re not just saying all this because you want me to love you?”

He chuckled. “I would have thought that you’d know me better than to suspect I’d mix up my own personal agenda in something as serious as this.”

Remembering how quickly he’d dismissed his own sister’s death, I did have trouble doubting his intentions.

The only guaranteed way I can survive this is by falling in love with Rhys.
Thoughts of Kiev filled my mind.
But how? And what if I lose myself to him before I ever make it out the other end?

Although Rhys still hadn’t explained what this mysterious “process” was, I knew that I wouldn’t be the same person after it. I would be like Rhys and his family. Blindly devoted to reviving the power and so-called glory of our kind. And if I wasn’t like them, the process wouldn’t have worked and I wouldn’t have gained the powers I needed to break free from him.

It seemed like an impossible situation. In order to be strong enough to free myself, I needed to lose myself. But once I’d lost myself, would I still even want to break free?

I realized then just how desperate I was.

Even if my life ends up becoming worse, I just can’t remain stagnant like this any more. Staying as I am now is guaranteed ruin. At least if I succeed at this, I’ll have the ability to overcome the bonds that tie me now. I just have to pray that I’ll remember what led me down this path to begin with…

“I’ve been trying to make it easier for you,” Rhys continued, picking up a glass of blood and taking a sip. “Giving you advice on how to stay out of trouble so I don’t have to punish you. I’ve been trying to express my own feelings for you. All to make this process easier.”

I couldn’t believe I was even entertaining the idea of being in love with Rhys. A few months ago, I would have been screaming at myself to stop. Now, a part of me was wishing that it was easier for me to fall for him.

“Of course,” he said, “you don’t
need
anybody. You could go through this all by yourself. But the chances of you losing a piece of yourself are much, much greater.”

He placed his glass down on the table and looked back at the fireplace.

“What is this process?” I asked. “You still haven’t told me.”

He stood up and began to pace up and down the room.

“You’ll know when it’s time.”

I looked at him in exasperation. “Can’t you give me some idea?”

He breathed out impatiently.

“Whatever it is doesn’t change what you have to do. You need to trust me on this.”

He walked over to me and bent down so that his eyes were level with mine. His face was filled with concern.

“Mona, I don’t want to risk breaking you. I’ve witnessed too many unsuccessful attempts to want to witness another one.” I could practically see the dark memories whirling behind his eyes as he spoke.

“All right,” I croaked.

Silence fell between us as we stared at each other.

Slowly, cautiously, he took a seat next to me.

“I don’t know what more I can say,” he breathed.

“There isn’t anything more,” I whispered after a pause. Bracing myself for what I was about to say, I shut my eyes. “I will love you, Rhys.” I felt insane hearing myself say those words out loud.

He exhaled sharply.

I leant closer to him, brushing my cheek against his, breathing in his scent. He reached up, caressing the side of my face. I remained still. Feeling the moment, the space we were sharing.

I slipped my hand beneath his shirt, running it up along his broad, muscular chest. I shifted myself onto his lap, my legs spread out either side of him on the couch.

His expression remained serious as he held my waist. Allowing me to take the lead. I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders, down his arms.

“Undress me,” I whispered into his ear.

He betrayed his hunger for me as he scooped me up in his arms and laid me down in his bed. He drew out his dagger and ripped through my dress. I shivered as the tip of the blade grazed my skin. Removing the rest of his clothes, he spread himself out over me. He groaned as I pulled his face against mine and pushed my tongue between his lips. He pressed me harder into the mattress, his weight making it a struggle to breathe.

I was trying to lose myself beneath Rhys’ touch. Let him envelop my heart and soul. But the harder I worked to forget the vampire, the more images of him came flooding through my brain.

No.

This is no good.

As Rhys’ need began to consume him, I gripped his thick hair and tugged.

“Wait,” I gasped.

He looked down at me, his eyes hooded, and frowned.

“What?”

He lifted himself up away from me and allowed me to sit up. I leaned against the headboard and buried my face in my hands.

Am I really going to risk this?

What choice do I even have now?

My throat felt parched just thinking about what I was about to do.

“Did I hurt you?” Rhys looked at me with concern.

“No, no. Rhys. I just… I think I need you to give me a memory potion.”

His lips parted in surprise.

“A memory potion?”

“It’s just that every time you touch me, I keep remembering the time when we were best friends,” I lied. “And I find it hard to be truly intimate with you. It feels strange.”

He nodded slowly.

“But not a complete memory wipe.”

“No, of course not,” I said quickly. I recalled one potion I had made recently before we left for The Shade. It was to test out on a human. They’d wanted to erase only select memories from his brain.

“All right,” he said.

I reached out and brushed a hand over his cheek, attempting a smile.

‘That way, it will be a fresh start for us.”