Raven knew she was going insane. She had always been terrified of closed-in places. It didn’t matter that Mikhail said she didn’t need air; she knew she did. It took several tries and every ounce of discipline she possessed to block out the fear, the terror, the truth that she lay buried deep within the earth. She crawled into Mikhail’s mind with her last exhaustive effort and retreated from the reality of what she had become, and what she had to do to survive.
Mikhail’s hold on her was precarious. She was light, insubstantial in his mind. So quiet, never moving, not accepting the earth’s healing powers, not fighting their situation. Raven made no response to his gentle inquiries. He was aware of her only as a small, huddled flicker in a corner of his mind.
It took some time before he became aware of a faint shifting in power, a ripple of awareness, like a searching crystal, an eye opening in the earth beside them. They were not alone. The presence touched him, stirred in his mind. Male. Powerful. Gregori. You are well, my friend. There was that cool menace in his mind. They knew one another so well after all the centuries of standing together against all odds.
Gregori had not voiced it as a question and Mikhail was shocked, truly shocked that he could make contact. Raven and he were deep in the bowels of the earth. The sun was at its greatest peak and all Carpathians were weak. How could Gregori accomplish such a feat? It was unheard of, even in the legends and myths of the past.
Your woman needs to sleep, Mikhail. Allow me to assist you.
Gregori was far away—Mikhail could detect that—yet the bond between them was strong. Sending Raven to sleep gave Gregori a semblance of power over her. Indecision. Did he trust Gregori? The power that Gregori wielded was phenomenal.
Low, humorless laughter. She will not survive this day, Mikhail. Even locked with you, her human limitations will overcome her desire to aid you.
And you can do this? Even at this distance? You can safely send her to sleep? Take away her torment? There will be no mistakes? Mikhail found himself wanting to believe it. Gregori was their healer. If he said Raven would be unable to last buried within the earth, that only confirmed his own belief.
Yes, through you. You are the only person on this planet I have given my allegiance to. You have always had my loyalty. I count you as my family and my friend. Until your woman or some other gives me my lifemate, you are the only person standing between the darkness and me.
Gregori would never have admitted such a thing unless he considered the situation a dire emergency. He was giving Mikhail the only reason he could to reassure Mikhail that he could be trusted.
Affection and regret welled up, mingled. Thank you, Gregori, I am in your debt.
I intend you to be the father of my lifemate. There was a faint note in his voice, something Mikhail could not name, as though Gregori had already insured that he would get his wish.
I have the feeling Raven’s daughter would be more than a handful. Mikhail tested his intuition.
I have no doubt I am up to the challenge. Gregori’s reply was purposely vague. I will send your lifemate to the sleep of our people that she will no longer be tormented by her human limits.
Gregori’s soft command was clear, imperious, impossible to ignore. Raven’s breath left her body in a soft sigh. Her heart slowed, missed a beat, ceased. Her mind was closed to the yawning terror, her body open to the healing power of the rich soil.
Sleep now, Mikhail. I will know if you are disturbed.
You do not have to guard me, Gregori. You have done much for our people, things they will never know. I can never repay my debt to you.
I can do no other, Mikhail, nor would I want to. Gregori withdrew.
Mikhail allowed himself the luxury of sleep to give the earth the chance to bring him to his full, immense power. He would need the strength the soil gave him for retribution. He wrapped Raven tighter in his arms as he took his last breath, certain the immediate danger to them had passed.