Page 139 of To Catch A Rogue
"My friends thought it was by your orders," she said, pushing a little. "But I think someone's trying to wrest control of the Wolves from you."
Oh, the look in his eyes was merciless. "That is none of your business."
"The question is: Who?" She circled him, forcing him to look at her. "You weren't at that ball for me. Were you? And it was the first time Sergey put in an appearance. Coincidence?"
"You don't know what you speak of."
"He killed your family, then he somehow convinced you to hide your true identity. He has taken everything from you and he will not stop there. You know that!"
There was nothing in his face. Nothing in his expression.
Lark's shoulders slumped. She wasn't reaching him.
"You don't care," she whispered.
"If I make a move against Sergey," he ground out, "then my friends will die. This is the Crimson Court. He has all the power. Youdo notunderstand."
Lark shook her head, turning to leave. She was wasting time. "Who says they will not die anyway? There can be only one leader. Do you think he will continue to allow you to lay claim to the Wolves?" She swallowed hard. "I hope he does. I honestly do. For your sake. Goodbye, Nikolai."
She couldn't stand to face him any longer.
"Irina?"
She paused on the stone stairs. "Yes?"
There came a long moment of silence.
She almost gave up, her weight shifting forward onto the balls of her feet.
"How did they die?" A rasp. A soft, gentle plea. "Was it swift and merciful?"
Bile rose in her throat, but perhaps she could reach him through this, if nothing else. "No. It was not."
* * *
Angry footsteps echoedthrough the dark tunnels as Irina vanished.
While he'd agreed to her plan, there was a whirlwind of reckless energy within her, and he'd seen the blood thirst in her eyes when she spoke of Sergey.
Nikolai set the kitten down and crossed to the saints on his altar.
It was an old tradition his father had once shared with him, and while he no longer believed in praying—begging another for good fortune was a waste of precious energy when one should simply take what one wanted—he'd kept up the ceremony all these years.
One by one he pinched out the seven candles, plunging the courtyard into darkness.
His father. His mother. Dmitri. Katya. Irina. Evgeni.
All gone. Lost so many years ago, he'd almost forgotten their faces.
Until Irina blazed back into his life.
She bore his hazel eyes, though there was a fire within her that had never burned within him. No, his flames had been quenched many, many years ago.
He didn't hear Chiyoh approach, but he could suddenly sense her, standing behind him as if she'd stepped between worlds and simply appeared. "You gave your word to help her."
"I gave my word to Sergey too," Nikolai murmured, glancing toward his second. "But my loyalty belongs only to theChernyye Volki."
Chiyoh had been with him from the start, a young girl traded to theChernyye Volkiby her master. When he'd lost the lower half of his leg in the ambush and been dragged into the Wolves den, she'd been the one to nurse him through the fever, and in return he'd protected her over the years.
