Mystery Stallion

Mystery Stallion Kate Hill Book 7 in the Horsemen series.

Long ago, a striped Horseman lost his heart to the only Horsewoman ever born. Feared and rejected, he allowed his bitterness to destroy them both. Since then, no striped Horseman has ever known love…until now. Sold into slavery by his father, Grigori de Forest arrives home twenty years later to reclaim his birthright. Now lord of a land where superstitious villagers despise and fear him because he bears “the marks”, he intends to live alone in his family’s ancestral castle. Since childhood, Violeta has been fascinated by the mysterious Grigori, whose striped coat sets him apart from other Horsemen. Desperate for work and knowing he has run off all his servants, she requests he hire her to cook and clean. She doesn’t realize that he remembers her for an act of kindness toward him years ago. Lust spurred on by shared dreams hurls them into a storm of passion, but their love and lives are endangered by the villagers, and a plague that threatens to destroy the mighty race of Horsemen.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Mystery Stallion ISBN 9781419939068 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Mystery Stallion Copyright © 2012 Kate Hill Edited by Shannon Combs Cover design by Mina Carter Photos: 123rf.com Electronic book publication April 2012 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

MYSTERY STALLION Kate Hill

Mystery Stallion

Chapter One The Devil’s Door Grigori de Forest walked up the wide, stone ramp leading to the second floor of his family’s ancestral home. On the upper floor he saw firelight through the open door of his father’s room at the end of the hall. His father. He had long ago ceased thinking about the de Forest family as his. They had severed the link. They had never disguised their shame and disgust over his affliction. He hadn’t realized his father knew his whereabouts, but two days ago a messenger had arrived at his secluded home on the edge of an unnamed forest. His father wished to speak to him before he died. Grigori’s first impulse had been to refuse to go, but curiosity—or perhaps the need for confrontation—got the better of him. So here he was, on his way to speak to his father for the first time in over twenty years. The castle looked exactly as he remembered it, from the carved-oak furniture to the family portraits adorning the walls in the great hall. Grigori was the only family member whose portrait had never been painted. The family had done their best to hide him from the world. Grigori burned with rage when he recalled the lengths they had traveled to wipe him from the family line. Why, after all these years, had his father summoned him? He was certain it had nothing to do with love. His hoofs clattered on the stone floor as he made his way to his father’s room. For spite he had kept his beast-half—a glaring reminder of the difference between him and other Horsemen. Horsemen—mystical creatures with the ability to shift from a full human form to that of half-man, half-winged horse—were an old and respected race. Since birth Grigori had been feared by humans and other Horsemen alike. According to legend, only cursed Horsemen possessed striped coats and cloven hooves. Not only did Grigori have those telltale marks, but his mismatched eyes—one blue and one so pale it looked white—heightened people’s fear of him even more. He no longer cared what anyone thought about him. The few who accepted him he counted as friends. No one else mattered, including his father. When he reached the room, he didn’t hesitate before stepping inside. The emaciated old man in Huform—his human shape—lying in bed scarcely resembled the powerful Horseman Grigori remembered, but he had also greatly changed from the gangly fourteen-year-old who had been dragged off by slavers.

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The old man’s heavily lidded blue eyes shifted to Grigori. “Come here, boy.” “It’s been a long time since I was a boy,” Grigori said, but approached and stood by his father’s bedside, not bothering to hide his contempt. “You sent for me.” “And you came.” Grigori didn’t reply, but waited for his father to continue. “I hear you’ve become an able healer. You always were one for books and study.” “Do you require my skills?” Grigori asked coolly. The old man weakly shook his head. “I’m beyond help. Even a healer such as yourself can’t stop death.” “Then what do you want?” The old Horseman stared at him for a long moment. “After I’m gone, you’ll be the last of the de Forest line.” “I ceased to be part of the de Forest line when you gave me to the slavers.” Grigori thought he’d overcome the bitterness, but confronted by his father, a man he should have been able to trust with his life, it welled up inside him, burning like acid. The man sighed and closed his eyes. “You’re not going to deny it?” Grigori asked. “How can I?” “Do you have any idea what I suffered in slavery?” Grigori snorted. “Why did I even ask? All you cared about was sweeping me away. I was an embarrassment to the de Forest line. If you’d killed me it would have been kinder than the hell you sent me to.” “I won’t insult you with an apology.” Grigori’s lip twitched. Part of him wanted to choke the final breath from the bastard’s body, but another part, one he thought long dead, craved that elusive apology or at least recognition for what he’d suffered. “After you left—” “After I was enslaved.” “Yes. Your mother and I didn’t have other children.” “What does this have to do with me?” “When I die, this castle and all my land will be yours.” “Is that your concern? That I’ll claim my birthright?” Grigori bent so he could stare directly into his father’s eyes. He tried to ignore the stench of death clinging to the old Horseman. “Don’t worry, Lord de Forest. I don’t want anything from you.” “That is my concern. If you don’t take it, everything goes to the village.” Grigori straightened, his lips twisting into a sardonic grin. “And any offspring, even a deformed one, is better than peasants, correct?”

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The old Horseman pointed weakly to the scroll tied with a red ribbon resting on the bedside table. “That is my will, signed by witnesses. Everything is yours. You must take it.” “I don’t want it.” “You’re still a de Forest, my son and heir.” “Your son died in slavery, or so you hoped.” His father’s eyes closed for so long that Grigori thought he’d fallen asleep. Truly he wanted nothing from the old man. He no longer cared about the de Forest line. The old families that had once ruled the world now dwindled. Grigori would be glad to see their legacy end. Yet he also detested the villagers. As a child they had shunned him, turned from him in fear and whispered behind his back. Why should they reap the rewards of his family’s wealth? “I wronged you greatly,” his father said weakly. His eyes opened halfway. “I have no right to issue orders. I can only ask you to take what is rightfully yours.” The family wealth would aid in his studies. His father had called him an able healer. In truth he was among the best in the world. After escaping from slavery, Grigori had traveled and studied with several great healers. All his life he’d had an avid interest in science, in particular medicine, and he possessed tremendous aptitude for it. “Take it,” his father whispered. “And forgive me.” Grigori had seen enough death to know his father hadn’t much longer. He hesitated a moment longer before he picked up the scroll, untied the ribbon and unrolled the document. “I’ll take it,” Grigori said. Fading eyes fixed upon him, as if expecting words of forgiveness to follow. Glancing toward a mirror framed in gold a short distance away, Grigori caught his reflection. Like many Horsemen, he had flown bare. He glanced at the scars riddling his arms and chest, most of which he had sustained on the slave island. His gut clenched and he spoke no more. Though the wounds on his body had long since healed, the wounds on his soul were still too raw for him to offer forgiveness to the man responsible for them. By the time he left the room, old Lord de Forest was dead. A manservant stood outside the door and Grigori motioned for him to tend the body. He strode down the corridor and stepped into the room that had once been his. Very little had changed, but he noted it had been dusted and the bedcovers were fresh. A pitcher of water, a basin and towel rested on the trunk at the foot of the bed. He splashed water on his face, the dried it roughly with the towel.

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Grigori walked to the large window across the room and stared outside. The castle stood on a mountaintop, but he could see the village called Oakforest in the meadow below, not far from the edge of a dark woods. The village now belonged to him. A faint smiled tugged at his lips. He imagined what they’d say now that the local monster had not only returned, but ruled them all.

***** “He didn’t have any type of ceremony at all for old Lord de Forest. Just tossed him in the family crypt and that was the end of it,” said the barkeep at Shady Tavern in Oakforest. The short, plump man shook his head and wiped a damp towel over the wooden countertop. The village had been, until the previous day, owned by Lord de Forest, or at least the land had been owned by him. For centuries the people had paid rent to the de Forest family. For nobles they were quite fair and treated the people decently. They had favored Old Lord de Forest in particular. Now he was dead and his son—a mysterious and frightening Horseman named Grigori—had control over the de Forest Castle and land. Violeta overheard the conversation from where she stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of stew. She had taken a temporary job as cook while the tavern owner’s wife recovered from a mild illness. Now that she was ready to return to work, the extra help was no longer required. As of tomorrow, Violeta would have no means to earn even the measly income the tavern owner paid her. That meant unless she found other employment, she would lose her cottage. “I’m not surprised,” said an elderly Horseman standing by the hearth holding a mug of ale. Firelight danced upon his dapple-gray coat and flickered on his dusky wings. “He was nothing but trouble. I remember the day he was born. My wife delivered him. She and Lady de Forest decided not to feed him. Put him out of his misery, but the traveling priest convinced them that deliberately killing a newborn was greater evil than the marks upon the child himself.” Violeta’s stomach clenched. Indeed murdering an infant was an unforgivable act. Yet most people in these parts were superstitious. She remembered Grigori de Forest from childhood. Even the villagers had treated him with fear and hatred. “When the slavers took him, several of us villagers spent weeks searching for the boy out of respect for Old Lord de Forest. We thought he died in the mines, but this past year Lord de Forest discovered Grigori had survived. Supposedly he’s a healer, but one of his kind probably deals in evil magic instead.” “Violeta.”

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She turned to the tavern keeper who had entered the kitchen through the back door. Though a Horseman, he wore his Huform. Wearing worn trousers, scuffed boots and a linen shirt with the ties undone, he carried an armload of wood to the fireplace and dropped it into an iron rack. “Yes, sir.” “Here, girl,” he said, opening the leather pouch at his waist and tugging out several coins. He handed them to Violeta. “I’m sorry I can’t keep you on, but times have been rough. With my wife coming back to work—” “You don’t have to explain. I appreciate you giving me a job,” she said. “What are you going to do? Will you go live with your sister and her husband?” Until last month, Violeta and her sister had shared the cottage they had grown up in. Violeta had earned money by selling herbs from her garden and working as a seamstress with her sister. Now that Elisabetta was married, the cottage belonged to Violeta, as did all the expenses. “No. I’ll find a way to earn a living,” she replied. “The servants left Castle de Forest yesterday so I imagine the new lord will need to hire others.” “Tomas the butler said Grigori has no plans to hire anyone. He’s even sent all the de Forest guards to live at their training camp on the other side of the forest.” Like many old royal families, the de Forest line was protected by warrior families who had served them for generations. Though rumor had it the de Forest guards feared Grigori because of his marks, they were bound by blood and honor to serve him. When approached by a small group of villagers, they had made it plain they would continue to do so and had no desire to mix with the people of Oakforest. The few old warrior bloodlines left kept to themselves. Violeta wrinkled her nose. “He’s going to live in that castle by himself?” “I don’t know who would want to work for him. Not only does he bear the marks, but he seems like a disagreeable fellow. Violeta, I hope you’re not planning to offer your services to him.” “I intend to see him.” Grasping her arm, the tavern owner shook his head. “Don’t do it, girl. Be wise and go live with your sister.” “She and her husband are newly wedded. They deserve to be alone.” “Then find yourself a husband. This village has lots of good men.” “Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine.” “Not if you go to the castle. Grigori de Forest is evil I tell you.” “Why? Because he happens to have a striped coat?” “And cloven hooves. And mismatched eyes. All marks of evil.” “I don’t believe that.” “You’ve seen him with your own eyes.” 9

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“I mean I don’t believe those deformities make him evil.” “Then how did he survive the mines? How did he escape?” asked the tavern keeper with a menacing stare. “Heed my warning, girl. Stay away from him.” “Thank you for your concern and for the work,” Violeta said. The tavern keeper left the kitchen and Violeta walked to the door leading outside. After spending the night in a stuffy kitchen, she needed a breath of fresh air. She stepped onto the cobbled walk and glanced toward the mountain upon which rested the Castle de Forest, clearly visible beneath the full moon. Light burned in one of the windows on an upper floor. She wondered if Grigori was studying or experimenting. She didn’t believe the tavern keeper’s superstitions about evil magic. Thinking back to her childhood, she recalled the gossip about Grigori and the coldness with which he’d been treated. Even his family offered him little or no defense. Instead they kept him within the castle walls. The few times he’d sneaked out, the villagers had driven him off. Violeta’s father had told his children not to listen to other people’s superstitions or treat people cruelly. Grigori de Forest hadn’t asked for his unfortunate birthmarks and a striped coat didn’t signify evil any more than common markings. Sighing, she turned and headed back to the kitchen. Before closing the door, she glanced at the castle one last time. In the morning, she would travel there. He might not realize it now, but in such a large home, Grigori de Forest would need at least some help.

***** In the morning, Violeta went to the local messenger, a Horseman named Ivan. Powerfully built with a muscular man-half and a beast-half covered in a sable coat, he set many female hearts aflutter, but not Violeta’s. He took conceit to new heights, even for a Horseman. If she hadn’t sold her true-horse out of desperation, she never would have gone to Ivan, but she had enough money saved to afford a ride to the castle. Walking there would take at least two hours each way and if Grigori failed to hire her, she needed to seek other work. She had asked other Horsemen from the village to fly her, but they refused to travel to the castle. Grigori had only just arrived, but already the people feared and hated him as they had years ago. His callous handling of his father’s death had only reinforced their feelings toward him. She didn’t fully understand his actions either, but she wouldn’t judge the man without knowing him first, not to mention she desperately needed work. When she arrived at Ivan’s, he stood in front of his house with two local women who brushed his glossy equine coat. The women gazed at him with adoring eyes while he posed and flirted shamelessly. Violeta resisted the urge to curl her lip in disgust.

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She approached, cleared her throat and said, “Ivan, would you fly me to Castle de Forest? I can pay.” Ivan’s sharp blue gaze shifted to her and the women glanced at her in annoyance. “Castle de Forest?” he asked. “Why do you want to go there?” “I’m looking for work. From what I understand, Grigori de Forest has no servants and I’m sure he’ll need a cook or a maid.” Ivan snorted. “You don’t want to work for him. Have you seen him?” “What does that have to do with anything?” One of the women said, “He has the marks.” “Striped coat. Cloven feet and I’ve heard his eyes are two different colors,” said the other woman. “Ivan, are you free to fly there today?” “I’m free, but I won’t take you,” he said with a curl of his lip, then his expression softened. “I won’t fly you into that kind of danger.” “That’s not your business.” “It’s my wings. Violeta, if you need work, I could use someone to clean up around here.” He stepped away from his enthusiastic grooms, offered Violeta a saucy grin and reached out to caress her face. “We could work out an arrangement.” “No thank you,” she said and stepped away. The last thing she wanted was any kind of “arrangement” with him. “Everyone knows you can use the money,” he continued, his gaze fixed on hers and a leering grin on his lips. “And I would appreciate a lovely servant. I’d treat you well and if everything works out, maybe we can have a more personal arrangement.” Violeta didn’t grace him with a response but turned on her heel and strode away, though not before she heard one of the women say, “If you need a servant, Ivan, or a personal arrangement, I’m quite available.” It amazed and sickened Violeta to see women debase themselves just because a Horsemen had a handsome face and muscles that looked as if they’d been chiseled from granite. Now that Ivan refused, she had no choice but to walk to the castle. She returned to her small stone cottage. It had a spacious main room and a small bedroom that had at one time been her parents’ but now belonged to her. She sat on the edge of the quilt-covered bed and changed into comfortable walking boots. After slinging a water pouch over her shoulder, she glanced out the window toward the mountain. At least the warm, clear day made traveling pleasant. She left by her back door and started down the rocky path through the forest. By midday Violeta reached the castle. It had taken longer than expected. She’d never been there before and the steep path had challenged her, though she was in good

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condition from farming and walking in the meadows and forest to gather roots and herbs. Standing in front of the large double doors of the castle, she smoothed her hair and used her sleeve to blot sweat from her face. Despite the shade in the forest, the day had turned quite warm. After taking a few moments to collect herself, she reached for the large, iron door knocker. Her heartbeat quickened. Approaching Grigori unnerved her more than she’d realized, yet she needed work. Crops had been bad over the past couple of years and she depended on her small garden to live. If she couldn’t find steady work, she’d starve this winter, unless she accepted the invitation to live with her sister and brother-in-law. In a world where women often lived under the control of men, she valued her freedom. Not to mention her sister and brother-in-law didn’t need a relative invading their newly wedded bliss. Without another moment’s hesitation, she rapped the knocker against the thick, oak door. Several moments passed and no one appeared. Perhaps Grigori didn’t want to be bothered. He had just arrived at the village and lost his father. Violeta had no wish to annoy him, but she had walked all morning to see him. She knocked again and after waiting a few more minutes sighed with disappointment and turned to leave. The door opened and she spun to face Grigori. She hadn’t seen him in over twenty years and the gangly boy had changed greatly, yet some things remained the same, such as his mismatched eyes. They stared at her—one bright blue and the other almost white with its black pupil like a pinpoint on ice. As a youth he had been thin and almost frail, a surprising contrast to the tall, broad-shouldered man whose white linen shirt and black breeches couldn’t conceal the cut muscles in his torso and long, hard-looking legs. The open ties on his shirt revealed a chiseled chest crisscrossed by thick white scars visible through a dusting of dark hair. The hair on his head was also like she remembered it—black streaked with white, like his striped beast-coat. He wore it bound at his nape, fully exposing his long, pointed Horseman ears. They twitched then flattened against his head in an agitated gesture. Like true-horses, Horsemen’s ears expressed their emotions, flicking when they were happy or curious and pinning flat to their heads when angry or afraid. “What do you want?” he asked in a deep yet soft voice, his expression wary. “Lord de Forest, I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m from the village. My name is Violeta, daughter of Alexi.” His unsettling eyes narrowed, then he nodded in recognition. “Your father was a good man, unlike many of the superstitious fools in this village. Is he well?” “He died a few years back.” “My condolences.” “Thank you. And I’m sorry about your father as well.”

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Ignoring her comment, he asked, “Why are you here?” “I’ve heard you no longer have servants working at the castle.” “Correct.” “I’m looking for work. Surely in a place as big as this you can use someone to cook and clean.” “I’m not hiring.” “You’re a healer and a scientist. Aren’t you too busy with your studies to spend much time caring for a castle?” He glanced beyond her, then his unsettling gaze fixed on her again. “Where is your mount?” “I walked.” His brow furrowed. “All the way from the village?” Though she didn’t want to beg, desperation drove her to it. “I really need work. I know you’ve only just arrived and must be upset about your father—” “My father meant nothing to me. We didn’t speak for over twenty years.” “I understand how difficult—” “Do you?” he asked sharply. Violeta’s stomach clenched. She reminded herself that she had invaded his privacy. “Crops have been bad,” she continued. “The village is just about surviving.” “If you’re trying to renegotiate the rent for the villagers then—” “I’m here for work. That’s all.” His attitude annoyed her. “I can’t find employment in the village, not with times being how they are.” “You have no husband?” She shot him an irritated look. “No. I haven’t.” They stared at each other for a moment, then he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. She hesitated. Perhaps the villagers had been right about him, not because she believed his markings were taboo, but because of his miserable disposition and indifference to everyone and everything. Yet he had no reason to like the villagers. They had treated him with contempt and cruelty. Maybe his coldness regarding his father’s death was warranted as well. The de Forest family had never defended him, but had hidden him. Maybe they had done so to protect him, but Violeta had sensed, even as a child, he had shamed them. She stepped inside and glanced around the spacious hall. Despite the warm weather, a chill swept through the vast stone room. The dark fireplace, filled with gray and black ashes, apparently hadn’t been lit. Tapestries covered the walls and a long, wooden table with carved chairs stood in the center of the room.

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Though until a day ago the castle had bustled with servants, it felt as if it had been empty for a long time. She glanced at Grigori whose piercing eyes studied her. It struck her that despite his unusual looks, or perhaps because of them, he intrigued her. As a child she’d tried to catch glimpses of him. The few times he’d ventured into the village, only to be driven off, she’d gazed at him with curiosity and fascination. Only once had she spoken to him. She’d been gathering herbs on the edge of the forest. She’d found him by a stream, hidden by trees, washing blood from his face. When she approached to offer him help, he’d stared at her with anger in those mismatched eyes. Taken aback, she’d nearly fled, but refused to let him see her fear. When she’d torn the hem of her skirt and used it to clean his injuries, he’d stared at her warily, just like he looked at her now. She doubted he remembered that day by the stream, or that he recognized her. It had been so long ago and they hadn’t exchanged names. Everyone in the village knew the de Forest family, but as the daughter of a simple woodcutter, Violeta would not be recognized by a nobleman. “Come with me,” Grigori said and led the way across the hall and up a wide, stone ramp. They reached a study filled with books. In the center stood a round table covered with various vials, jars and potions used by healers. “Take a seat,” he said, pointing toward a cushioned chair in front of the fireplace. “But, sir, I couldn’t—” “You’re looking for work but refuse to follow a simple order?” Sitting in the presence of a nobleman wasn’t proper, but he had commanded it so she did as he asked. It felt good to sit after her long hike through the woods. He walked to the table and filled a goblet from a wooden pitcher, then offered it to her. Violeta sniffed the contents, expecting it to reek of some strange herb. A smile flirted with his slender lips. The top of his mouth formed a perfect bow. That mouth seemed almost out of place, considering the ruggedness of his other features. “It’s only water,” he said. Violeta sipped, then drank half the goblet. “You want me to employ you?” “I’m a good cook and a hard worker and as I said, you could use help around here.” “You intend to walk here daily?” She blinked. Truly she hadn’t thought about that. To arrive at a reasonable hour to begin work, she’d have to leave her home at an ungodly time. “Room and board will be included in your compensation,” he said. “Unless you’re needed at home, perhaps by your mother or siblings?”

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“No. My mother passed on and my sister is married, but I hadn’t thought about living here.” His gaze bore into hers. “You’ll be perfectly safe, unless you’re worried the others will gossip about you living with one who bears the marks?” Violeta lifted her chin. “I do what I please and the marks are nonsense.” Another smile tugged at his lips but for some reason he refused to let it spread. “Then it’s settled. You may start work tomorrow, if that’s convenient.” “Yes. Of course. If I may arrive around noon it will save me from making the trip in the early morning darkness.” “I’ll come for you at seven in the morning. Now, would you like to discuss compensation?” It took moments for them to sort out the details. Violeta couldn’t help wondering what kind of man dwelled behind his coolly efficient veneer, for no one with eyes as intense as Grigori’s could be as indifferent as he pretended. When their discussion ended, he offered her more water, which she refused. He took the goblet from her, careful not to touch her hand, and placed it on the table. His next statement shocked her into momentary silence. “If you’re ready, I’ll fly you home.”

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Chapter Two Shadow Stallion Violeta intended to refuse Grigori’s offer. Yes she‘d agreed to fly with him in the morning, but only because she‘d have the entire night to prepare and think over her decision. She hadn‘t expected to ride him now, but he stood staring at her with those penetrating eyes, waiting for an answer. The very thought of sitting on his back, feeling his tall, strong body close to hers, almost took her breath away. She wanted to fly with him, not simply as a means of transportation but because she desired contact with him. “Do you need to rest for a while?” he asked. “No. Thank you. I’m ready.” “Then I’ll shift shape and meet you in the great hall.” Violeta nodded. She left the study and made her way downstairs. While she waited for him, she glanced around the hall. Dark, square-shaped places on the wall above the enormous fireplace hinted that portraits—probably of de Forest ancestors—had recently been removed. The sound of hooves on stone nabbed Violeta’s attention. She turned to the ramp leading from the second floor. Grigori, in all his Horseman splendor, strode down it and approached Violeta. He had removed his shirt and revealed a torso even more gorgeous than she’d imagined—lean with well-defined muscles. Even from a distance she noticed old scars marking him. His striking black-and-white striped coat covered his tall, sleekly muscled beast-half. Pure black wings folded against his sides. Unlike a usual Horseman tail, Grigori’s was partially covered in short, striped hair that turned into flowing black tendrils at the tip. “I apologize, Violeta, but I have neither saddle nor harness. Are you able to ride without tack?” “Yes I’m an able rider,” she said. “Other than a halter, I never used saddle or bridle on my horse before I sold her.” “Very well.” He walked to a bench so she could reach him easily. “You may mount.” Excitement buzzing through her, she stood on the bench and placed a hand on his equine back. He felt warm and hard beneath his short, coarse coat and she longed to stroke him. Though difficult to see among his stripes, scars similar to the ones on his human torso marked his beast-half.

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She wondered how, after what he’d suffered in slavery, he could allow a human on his back. She’d heard horrible stories about the abuse of captive Horsemen, how in the mines some were literally ridden to death. Once astride him, she shifted her weight to a comfortable position—difficult considering her powerful attraction to him. Though she wore a thin loincloth beneath her dress, her bare thighs hugged his equine sides. Her passionate thoughts sobered when she got a close look at his scarred flesh. The marks crisscrossed his broad shoulders and back. Violeta’s fingertips hovered over an especially thick scar, then she curled her hand into a fist. Simply because he offered her a ride didn’t give her leave to touch him any way she wanted to. “You may hold on to me,” he said. “I know it’s not easy to ride without tack, but once we’re in the sky I’m a fairly smooth flyer.” “I’m sure you are,” she murmured. Grigori glanced over his shoulder at her, but she found she couldn’t meet his gaze, not while bombarded by sexual thoughts. Thankfully she preferred wearing a loincloth for comfort beneath her rather scratchy dress, otherwise she’d thoroughly embarrass herself. Her wet pussy throbbed and her clit ached just from sitting astride him. She’d traveled by Horseman before but had never felt like this. He headed for the door and Violeta concentrated on her posture. Her hands settled on his warm, lean sides and she briefly closed her eyes. Outside the breeze fanned them as he cantered down the walkway toward the private Running Way—a clearing in a populated area used for Horsemen to take off and land. Her knees tightened against him and her fingers gripped his sides as he galloped then ascended, his black wings beating until he reached his desired height, then he soared, letting the wind carry them. Grigori was far better than a “fairly smooth” flyer. He was absolutely magnificent. She couldn’t keep from smiling, but managed to control the joyful laughter that bubbled in her throat. Then an even better sensation struck her. The rhythm of his churning legs seemed directly linked to her pussy. Her smile faded, replaced by embarrassment. This wasn’t good, or rather it was too good. Violeta tried to think of other things but couldn’t while seated atop this paragon of virility. “Where is your cottage?” he asked. Was it her imagination or did his voice sound rougher than usual? “It’s the little white one with the pink rose bushes in front.” He swooped lower and she instinctively grasped his waist, her open palms pressed against his hard stomach. The muscles tightened and released then tightened again beneath his warm flesh. All too soon—or perhaps just in time—the flight ended.

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When he landed, Violeta reluctantly slid off Grigori’s back. Her heart pounded and her legs weakened. She’d ridden Horsemen before, but never bareback and never one who aroused her like this. She leaned against him for a moment, intensely aware of his warmth, the softness of his coat and the hardness of his muscles. Her clit still throbbed, though not as badly as during the flight. Unconsciously, she stroked his equine shoulder, staring at the contrast of her small, tanned hand against his striped coat. He glanced over his shoulder at her and Violeta quickly dropped her hand. A blush rose in her face and she said softly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to offend you.” Stroking a Horseman without permission, as one would a true-horse, was very bad manners. Violeta had never done such a thing before. She couldn’t explain why she’d done it now, except for her powerful attraction to this unusual Horseman. Grigori didn’t speak, but his gaze bore into her and her belly tightened. The way he looked at her made her feel as if she were naked. Perhaps working for him wasn’t such a wise idea. Even worse, she’d been seriously considering his offer of room and board. Truly without transportation she had little choice. “No offense taken,” he said. “I’ll come for you in the morning.” He cantered several steps then spread his black wings and ascended. Violeta’s heart skipped a beat. She wished she were still astride him, his strong body shielding her against the wind and the vibrations from his churning legs sending little ripples of pleasure— She needed to stop thinking about him like this, especially if she intended to work for him. How would she sleep tonight knowing tomorrow she would fly with him again? Just thinking about it brought a smile to her lips. She drew a deep breath, twirled around like a frivolous girl then stepped into her cottage. It had been so long since she’d felt this good.

***** Grigori missed Violeta on his back the moment she dismounted. The ride had ended far too quickly. He longed to take her on a truly memorable flight. He imagined her astride him naked while he flew high and fast. Horsemen had ways of pleasuring women while in flight. If Violeta were his— What was he thinking? Neither she nor any woman in this village would bind herself to him. No matter how she felt about the marks, the others loathed him and would shun her as they had always shunned him if she gave herself to him. Violeta must be desperate for work to come to him. He couldn’t believe she didn’t have a husband to care for her. A woman as lovely as Violeta surely had many offers. Instead of returning home, Grigori flew over the vast stretch of forest on the outskirts of the village. Flying with Violeta left him anxious and frustrated in a way he 18

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didn’t understand. That wasn’t exactly true. He knew why he felt this way, but he couldn’t think about it. His legs churned and his wings pounded the air as he devoured the sky. Few things felt better than a long, fast flight. Usually when preoccupied, Grigori turned to his studies to get back on track, but tonight he needed a physical challenge. Still no matter how fast he flew, he couldn’t drive Violeta from his thoughts. How could he? All his life he’d remembered her and wondered about her. He’d never forgotten the girl by the river who had touched him gently and looked at him without a trace of the hatred the others fired upon him. When she arrived at his door earlier, he’d recognized her immediately, but refused to let on that he remembered her. He didn’t know what she wanted or how she would react. She had been kind once, but that had been a long time ago. If anyone except her had asked to work at the castle, he would have refused, but Grigori never forgot kindness, not when he’d known so much cruelty. His strong wings and powerful legs ate mile after mile. Finally he returned home, sweat drenched and winded but his thoughts still spinning around the blue-eyed woman with a cherubic face and honey-colored hair. He could almost feel her hand caressing his equine shoulder and her legs squeezing his sides. After cooling down and bathing in the brook behind the castle, Grigori went to his study and buried himself in his latest research—or tried to. Concentrating on anything except Violeta proved difficult. If the woman distracted him this much without being present, what would happen when she started working here tomorrow?

***** Violeta woke early. Her heart pounded with anticipation. Grigori would come for her soon. She’d packed her belongings before going to sleep last night. Now the reality of her decision struck her in full force. She had agreed to live at Castle de Forest with the mysterious Grigori. Yesterday he had been reserved and polite, but once she arrived, would his attitude change? No doubt once the villagers found out about her new employment, there would be gossip. Last night when she’d stopped by the tavern to see how the owner’s wife felt, she’d told them about her new job. Both had been very concerned and even offered her part-time work. Violeta appreciated their offer since paying her even such a small sum would be a hardship during these difficult times, but she refused. Though wary about working for Grigori, she also felt a sense of excitement. The striped Horseman intrigued her. She looked forward to the daunting task of uncovering the layers of his mysterious past. Despite his cool demeanor, passion gleamed in his eyes and she longed to know more about him. Violeta glanced around her tidy cottage one last time. It would possibly be days before she returned, yet she wouldn’t miss it as much as she’d thought. Since her family

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had parted, the cottage had been lonely. At times it saddened her to live among so many memories with no one to share them. She stepped outside and sat on a tree stump, her bag beside her. The sun had just risen and some of the villagers already went about their work. A woman walked to a central well to fill a bucket. Two Horsemen walked toward the Running Way to leave on early morning flights. Gazing skyward, her heart skipped a beat when she saw Grigori circling overhead. Instead of using the Running Way, he landed gracefully in her yard. Again her breath caught at the sight of him. A black ribbon bound his long hair at his nape and his black wings rippled then folded against his sleek, equine sides as he walked toward her. “Good morning,” he said, his intense gaze fixed on her. “It seems to be,” she said, glancing at the clear blue sky. “Are you ready?” A wagon rolled down the dirt road running past her cottage. The driver cracked his whip over the backs of the true-horses pulling it and Grigori turned sharply in his direction, his ears pinned and every muscle in his powerful body tense. The expression on his face—like that of a hunted animal—took Violeta by surprise. Then she recalled his enslavement. Her gaze wandered to the scars on his body and a sick feeling swept over her. Obviously he was no stranger to the lash. “Lord de Forest,” she said softly, resisting the urge to touch him in comfort. Somehow she doubted he’d be open to such an overture. He glanced at her and his expression hardened. “We should go,” he said and strode closer to the tree stump so she could stand on it to mount. Astride him, she tingled all over from the contact. Her face heated when she imagined how it would feel to ride him unclothed. Last night before drifting to sleep she’d had the most erotic thoughts about him. No one had ever made her feel like this before. Yes she’d seen attractive men—far more conventional than Grigori, but none touched her as deeply. This stallion with a shadowy past captivated her. In their childhood, he’d fascinated her and nothing had changed. Grigori headed for the Running Way, which had cleared since the other Horsemen had taken off. Her hands rested lightly on his waist and her knees gripped him snugly. The urge to wrap her arms around his chiseled torso almost overcame her, but she managed to control herself. To work for him, she needed to keep her emotions in check or else he might think her a loose woman. If he discovered her feelings for him, she couldn’t predict his reaction. He might try to take advantage of his position or he might send her away. Until she knew him better, she needed to be cautious. They had almost reached the Running Way when Ivan galloped toward them and stood in Grigori’s path.

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“Violeta, I heard at the tavern that you intend to work for him.” He jerked his head contemptuously in Grigori’s direction. “I won’t allow it. We’ll find another arrangement for—” “Who are you?” Grigori interrupted. Ivan met his gaze. “I’m a friend of Violeta.” “This is Ivan,” Violeta explained. “He’s the local messenger.” “And a friend?” Grigori asked. “An acquaintance,” she replied in a clipped tone. “Ivan, this is none of your concern.” “I forbid—” “She said it’s not your business.” Grigori stepped forward, but Ivan refused to move. Both Horsemen’s ears swept back and tension swelled between them. “Violeta, you can’t go to the castle with him. Do you know what everyone is saying?” “What can they say? I’m taking a job as a maid. You have no right to interfere, Ivan.” “Move,” Grigori said, his gaze locked with Ivan’s. Violeta’s stomach clenched. For a moment she thought the dark-coated Horseman would refuse to move. He was more thickly built than Grigori, but Violeta felt the strength in Lord de Forest and he hadn’t survived years in slavery by being a weakling. Still she hoped they wouldn’t come to blows. Horsemen didn’t fight each other often, but when they did the combat was brutal. Most battles occurred between the leaner racing types, such as Grigori and Ivan, who were known for being more temperamental than their Highlander brothers. “You might own this land, but you don’t own us,” Ivan said to Grigori. “No one wants you here. You’re not half the man your father was.” Grigori’s muscles tensed even more and Violeta instinctively placed a gentle hand between his shoulder blades. Seated on his back, she couldn’t see his expression, but by the look of surprise mixed with a hint of apprehension on Ivan’s face, she guessed the sable-coated Horseman knew he’d finally overstepped his bounds. “Let’s go,” Violeta said. This time when Grigori moved forward, Ivan didn’t block his way. “Think about what you’re doing, Violeta,” Ivan called. “You might regret this.” Grigori paused and glared at Ivan. “Keep interfering and you will regret it.” “Is that a threat, Lord de Forest?” “Think very carefully before you challenge me, Ivan.” “Do you plan to summon your royal guards to silence me?” Ivan taunted.

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“I don’t need guards.” Grigori took a step closer to Ivan, but Violeta’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Grigori, please let’s just go,” Violeta said, not realizing that she’d addressed him informally until after the words escaped her lips. “Go on, Lord de Forest. I know fighting doesn’t come naturally to those of your station.” “You don’t want to test that theory. Not with me.” The Horsemen glared at each other for another moment before Ivan curled his lip and walked away. Grigori continued toward the Running Way. “What is he to you really?” Grigori asked. “Absolutely nothing,” she replied. “He thinks he’s King of the Sky or something because he used to be a Fighting Carrier.” Fighting Carriers—elite Horsemen warriors—not only protected people in times of trouble, but dedicated their lives to gathering Rock Blood along with their human riders. Though private Carriers earned more money making the grueling and dangerous flights to gather Rock Blood, Fighting Carriers were generally more respected. “I’ve known many good Fighting Carriers whom I hold in high regard,” he said. “I agree that most are admirable in their dedication and willingness to risk their lives for others. Pay no attention to Ivan. He enjoys looking for trouble.” “If he’s not careful he might find it,” Grigori muttered under his breath, then asked, “Ready?” For flight. Violeta could scarcely wait to take to the skies with him again. “I am,” she said. Grigori galloped down the Running Way then ascended. Once in the sky, Violeta couldn’t keep from smiling. Nothing felt as good as soaring like this, especially astride Grigori. All too soon they landed in front of the castle. Violeta sighed. The fun had ended. Now for work. Inside the castle, Grigori showed her to a spacious room with a window overlooking a brook. “This is beautiful,” she said. When he’d told her she’d have room and board, she’d expected a small, dull room, not one like this. “When you’re settled, come to my study and I’ll show you the rest of the castle. The study is down the hall to the left, the door at the very end.” “Thank you,” she said. Their gazes met and her breath caught in her throat. She thought for certain he was going to touch her and she almost wished he would. 22

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Instead he nodded and left. Violeta sighed again and glanced around the room. A soft, blue quilt and pillows covered the canopy bed. Tapestries with garden scenes covered the walls and a floral carpet spread across the floor. A mild breeze blowing through the open window made the pale-blue curtains dance. This room was bigger than her entire cottage. A castle this size would certainly keep her busy. Once she’d unpacked, she walked to the study. Grigori had left the door open. He’d shifted to Huform and stood, dressed in black trousers and a white linen shirt, the ties open in front and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His brow furrowed in concentration, he stood over a table filled with various bottles, jars and a variety of scientific equipment. “Should I come back later?” she asked, not wanting to bother him. He shook his head absently, added a bowl of powder to a large container of reddish liquid, then glanced at her. “What are you studying?” she asked, genuinely curious. “I’m experimenting with Rock Blood shells.” The healing properties of Rock Blood cured the Plague that struck human colonies throughout the world. Since Rock Blood only thrived in either the frigid Spikelands or the humid tropics, Horsemen carried human riders over oceans filled with fleshconsuming plants to gather the Rock Blood. In return, human women mated with Horsemen since no females of their species existed. “But I thought the shells are useless?” Grigori shook his head. “During my enslavement, my mentor and I discovered it has medicinal uses. When the shells are ground into powder and used as an ingredient in salve, it heals injuries faster. I think it might have other uses too, but it will take more research.” “You were allowed to study while enslaved?” she asked, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” “I don’t mind. Healers were required for the combatants. Slaves healed other slaves. My mentor was an old, experienced healer and a great scientist.” “Combat? In the mines?” “I didn’t work in the mines. I was sent to an island gladiatorial colony where Horsemen were forced to fight for the amusement of their masters.” “It sounds terrible. You said you were on an island?” “In the tropics.” “The tropics? Your father and the men who accompanied him from the village searched for you in the Vertue Mountains. If they’d only known the slavers had taken you south—” “He knew.” Grigori snorted with disgust. “Why do you think he told them to search in the Vertue Mountains?” 23

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“But that doesn’t make sense.” “Violeta, who do you think gave me to the slavers?” She felt as if her stomach had dropped to her feet. “You must be mistaken. I remember how concerned your father was when he asked for men to help him search for you. My father and a few others agreed to go with him and—” “I saw him bargaining with the slave trader.” Grigori’s voice dripped with bitterness. “Are you certain?” His unsettling, mismatched eyes burned into hers. “Why is it so difficult for you to believe? Is it because my father was such a kind and merciful landlord and the people liked him? Everyone has dark secrets, even the perfect Lord Andis de Forest.” “But to send his own child into slavery—” “He wanted me away from here, so he sent me someplace from which he thought I’d never return. He didn’t have the courage to kill me. Sending me into slavery was better than murder, at least in his mind. At times I wish he had killed me instead. It would have been kinder, but then kindness is something he reserved for those without the marks.” Violeta had come here wanting to uncover the mystery of Grigori’s past. She hadn’t expected to learn so much so fast. After hearing his version of past events, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear more. “By surviving you proved you’re stronger than your father and the other ignorant fools in this village.” “I am strong, Violeta. People here will do well not to forget it.” Again his attitude irked her, but she at least understood it now. “I should get to work,” she said. “If you would show me to the kitchen.” He guided her out of the study and gave her a tour of the castle—at least the areas where she would be required to work. All the wings except the southern one were closed off. Her main duties included keeping their bedrooms, the kitchen and great hall tidy, cooking meals and doing laundry. Though Grigori permitted her inside the study, he asked her not to clean it since he didn’t want his notes and experiments disturbed. Grigori concluded the tour in a small, newly dug garden outside the kitchen. “Mostly herbs,” she said, kneeling by the tiny, green plants poking through the dirt. “I’m not sure how well they’ll do since I started them late. They’re mostly for my experiments. Next year the crop will be better.” She tilted her gaze up to his. “We’re all hoping for that.” “I’m not oblivious to the villagers’ problems, Violeta, nor am I an unfair man.” A faint, almost sinister smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll treat them with the same respect as they treat me.”

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She knew this next question could end her duties here before they began, but she felt compelled to ask. Still on her knees, her hand lightly caressing a basil plant, she held his gaze. “Did you return here for revenge, Lord de Forest?” “What an inquisitive mind you have, Violeta, and so little control over that pretty mouth.” “I’m a direct woman.” “I can see that.” “Perhaps too direct for my own good at times.” This time a genuinely amused grin tugged at his lips. “We all have our faults.” She thought she’d push her luck a bit more. “Forgive me, my lord, but you still haven’t answered my question.” “Revenge is bad for the spirit. All I want—all I’ve ever wanted—is to live in peace.” Violeta nodded. “That’s not much to ask, but I’m guessing you haven’t had much peace in your life. Not as a slave.” They stared at each other for several heartbeats. Violeta had never experienced deeper yet unspoken communication with anyone. Finally he turned away and headed for the door. “I’ll be in my study. I have work to do.” “Yes, my lord.” Before leaving the garden he turned to her, one long-fingered hand resting flat against the door. “What do you want, Violeta?” “I don’t understand?” “From life.” “Something of my own that no one can take away.” With a final glance, he pushed open the door and left her to her thoughts. Violeta spent the remainder of the morning tidying the kitchen and great hall. Since the regular servants hadn’t been gone long, the castle wasn’t in a bad state, but required dusting, sweeping and a few decorative touches to make it feel more like a home than an abandoned relic. She gathered flowers from the courtyard, placed them in vases she found stored in a cupboard and put them on the long, wooden table in the great hall. At midday, she prepared a light meal then went to Grigori’s study and knocked on the door. She looked forward to seeing him. Accustomed to the hustle and bustle of life in the village, Violeta found the castle quite lonely. Grigori didn’t reply to her first knock, so she tapped on the door again. “What is it?” he called. “Would you like to eat, my lord?” “Later. I’m working on a time-sensitive experiment right now.”

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Violeta sighed and returned to the kitchen where she ate some of the bread she’d made that morning. Then she stirred the stew simmering over the fire and tidied the kitchen. Upstairs, she made the beds then dusted a small, richly decorated sitting room. Violeta decided this was her favorite place in the castle. The small, round room had an entire wall of books. Pastel tapestries of flowers and waterfalls hung on the remaining three walls and a pink-and-green carpet covered the floor. Two chairs with pale pink cushions and a round table of white wood stood in front of the small stone fireplace. Violeta carefully dusted the roses carved into the table legs, then wiped the smooth top clean. She approached the shelves and as she dusted read the spines of the leather and clothbound books. Most were recipe and gardening books. The rest were fictional tales about gods, goddesses and fairy folk. She tugged out a volume bound in pale green cloth and smiled. She remembered her grandmother telling her this story about a young girl and her sheep. Unable to resist, she turned the pages, reliving a bit of her childhood. “You may sit and finish the book if you want to.” Violeta gave a little gasp of surprise. She hadn’t heard Grigori approach. The lord of the castle stood a short distance away, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorway. His gaze fixed upon her, his head tilted slightly to the side, as if she were a specimen in his study that he couldn’t quite figure out. “I’m sorry. I only meant to dust, but I saw this book—” “There’s no need to apologize. I’m not a slave driver. You don’t have to work every second and you’re welcome to read any of the books here.” “Thank you,” she said, but closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. She glanced around. “This is a beautiful room.” “It was my mother’s.” He stepped inside and stood next to Violeta, gazing at the shelves. “I haven’t seen this room since I was very young. Sometimes I’d watch from the hall while she sat and read or worked on embroidery, but I wasn’t allowed inside.” He trailed a fingertip over the books, a far-off expression on his face. Violeta hadn’t felt this depressed since the death of her parents. This man’s life seemed to be an endless stretch of sadness. She realized that living here she could either allow him to drag her spirit down or she could attempt to raise his. Some might turn away from such a daunting task, but Violeta enjoyed a challenge. “How are your experiments going?” she ventured. He glanced at her. “Slowly. I got hungry.” “There’s fresh bread and I’m cooking stew for dinner. I‘ll bring it to you.” “No need. I’ll eat in the kitchen.” This shouldn’t have surprised her, since she already knew he was different than others of his class, yet she hadn’t expected him to seek her company. She thought he’d be the sort who took his meals in private.

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She headed out of the room and Grigori followed her. His nearness excited her, made her pulse quicken and her body tingle in places she shouldn’t think about—at least not in the presence of her employer. Despite this, she couldn’t help thinking about riding him. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she admired his strong profile, his well-shaped nose and the curve of his long eyelashes. She longed to touch his virile body again. Riding him had only made her want him more. He turned to her and his gaze drifted to her lips. He moistened his with the tip of his tongue, then glanced away. Was it possible that he felt the same attraction to her as she felt for him?

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Chapter Three Pleasant Dreams In the kitchen, Violeta brought Grigori’s meal to the table while he disappeared into the wine cellar and returned with a bottle and two glasses. “Do you like red?” he asked. “It gives me a headache.” “Me too. This is white.” A quirky smile played around his lips as he placed the glasses on the table and opened the bottle. “My lord, I don’t—” “Drink?” “Not while I’m working.” He poured the wine, picked up both glasses and offered one to her. “At least not generally,” she said, taking the glass. Her fingertips brushed against his and she once again admired his graceful hands. A pulse fluttered in her throat when she imagined how good those hands would feel on her body, caressing her hips and cupping her breasts. In her mind’s eye she watched his long fingers dip between her legs. Instinctively her thighs pressed together in an attempt to soothe the sexual ache deep inside her. Violeta closed her eyes and took a long swallow of wine, then another. When she looked at Grigori, he wore an amused smile. Her face warm from both her lewd thoughts and the wine, Violeta cleared her throat and placed her glass on the table. She turned away to check the stew, not because it was nearly ready, but because she needed to put space between her and virile Lord de Forest. Grigori sat at the table. He ate slowly, his fascinating fingers breaking the bread, curling around the wineglass or wrapping around the fork as he munched grass salad— a Horseman delicacy—she’d prepared for him. Instead of concentrating on his food like most men she’d known, his gaze followed her while she went about her chores. Violeta tried to focus on polishing a silver tray, but it was difficult when he made her feel so… She couldn’t quite describe the sensations, but she wanted nothing more than to pull off her clothes and let the warm summer breeze fan her heated body. Or better yet, she longed for him to shed his clothes as well and pull her into his embrace. His big, hard body would feel so wonderful. When she’d ridden him, the power flowing

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through him had made her heart soar as high as his gorgeous black wings had carried her. “The food was excellent,” Grigori said, wiping his finely drawn lips on a cloth napkin and placing it beside his empty plate. “Thank you, Violeta.” “I’m glad you enjoyed it, my lord. May I get you anything else?” He shook his head. “I’ll finish my work for today, then I need an exercise flight. I won’t be late for dinner.” Violeta watched him go, then went to clear the table. She noticed he’d left some wine in his glass. Impulsively, she sipped from it, her lips touching the same place as his. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach tightened. It would be so much better to kiss his lips directly, but she doubted she’d ever get the chance. This stolen intimacy would be her only taste of this Horseman who aroused her, body and soul.

***** Grigori arrived on time for dinner, as promised. He surprised Violeta by asking her to join him at the table. “It wouldn’t be proper,” she said. “Other than the fact that there’s no one around to know, class distinction means even less to me than it did before I was enslaved. On the island, we looked on each other as equals, except for the slavers whom we considered dirt beneath our hooves.” Still Violeta hesitated to join him. He might see her willingness to comply as a sign that she would indulge in other improper behavior. While she harbored romantic feelings for Grigori, she didn’t know him well enough to act on them. “Thank you, my lord, but I’ve already eaten.” “I see,” he said, an icy look in his eyes. He turned back to his supper. Throughout the meal, he acknowledged her politely when she offered to refill his glass, but he looked right through her. This coolness affected her, however she had initiated it directly after her promise to lift his spirits. The man confused her, or more accurately, her feelings toward him confused her. After dinner, he returned to his study. When she finished tidying the kitchen, she walked in the courtyard, then decided to retire. On her way to her room, she glanced down the hall and saw light shining beneath the closed door of Grigori’s study. She wondered if he ever stopped working. She’d never heard of anyone having such a keen interest in Rock Blood shells, but scientists were a strange lot. In her room, she lit a fire and turned down the bedcovers. Then she changed into her nightgown, unwound her hair from its braid and brushed it. Usually at this time of night, she’d stop at the tavern for a hot cup of tea and a chat with the tavern owner’s

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wife. In the village, one could always find someone to talk to. Living in this lonely castle would take much getting used to. She embroidered by the fire for a while, then climbed into bed before the flames fully died. A breeze wafted through the partially open window and outside an owl hooted. Drifting to sleep, she wondered if Grigori shared her loneliness or if he enjoyed his solitary life.

~~~~~ Violeta sat up in bed and tugged the front of her nightgown away from her damp skin. The oppressive summer night had wakened her, or so she thought. She glanced around the room, a strange feeling sweeping over her. Despite the heat, a shiver rolled through her. She rose from the bed and pulled off her nightgown. Naked, she walked to the window and the warm breeze caressed her. Stepping closer, she gazed out the window and her heat skipped a beat when she saw Grigori standing in the grass outside her window. He wore his beast-half. Powerful muscles rippled beneath his striped coat. His black wings fluttered and he tilted his face toward hers. The intensity in his eyes momentarily stole her breath. He spread his wings and ascended while beckoning her with his finger. As if drawn by magic, she stepped onto the window ledge. When he hovered near, she climbed onto his back, with the help of his guiding arm. Violeta’s heart pounded. His sleek body felt wonderful between her legs. His short, coarse coat tickled her flesh and his warmth seeped into her. “Hold me,” he said, his voice husky. Closing her eyes, Violeta slid her arms around his lean waist and pressed her cheek to his back. Strangely, she didn’t care that she was naked or that he must feel the dampness of her pussy. This felt right. He rose higher, beyond the treetops and the castle towers, until they soared through the open sky. Violeta caressed his muscular abs and steely chest. She heard his heart beating and felt the dampness of his flesh as he raced through the sultry night. Horsemen’s bodies generated far more heat than humans, so much that even in the frigid Spikelands they could keep their riders warm. Grigori flew faster, his legs churning and wings beating. To Violeta, he seemed to be one with the wind, as fast and powerful as a storm. His rhythm stimulated her to the core. Her clit ached and her pussy throbbed. The sensation of her stiff nipples brushing against his perspiring back sent thrills of pleasure through her. Heavens if he kept up this frantic pace she was going to— Violeta cried out and clung to him hard as an intense orgasm broke over her. It happened so fast that it took her by surprise. All she could do was hold him, her heart pounding and her clit rubbing against the joining of his man-torso and beast-back.

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Grigori groaned and a shudder tore through him. She had found his Turning Point, the area on a Horseman where shapeshifting originated. Located on his lower back, it was as sensitive as his cock head. Her orgasm waned and she relaxed onto him, their sweaty skin pressed close and her thighs rubbing against his wet coat. Grigori turned back toward the castle. Panting, he landed in front of it and entered the great hall where he cantered up the stone ramp and carried her to his study. She reluctantly dismounted, but her hand never left him. It trailed over his equine shoulder to his tense man’s stomach as she walked around to face him. In his half-equine form, he was quite tall and she tilted her head to meet his gaze. He stared into her eyes and took her face in his big, warm hands. “Violeta,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, then bent and covered her mouth in a kiss so intense that she could do nothing but cling to him and moan. She never imagined a dream could feel like this. Everything—his taste, his scent, his feel and the sound of his voice—was so real. When the kiss broke, he whispered against her lips, “I’ve never felt anything like this before.” “Neither have I.” “I want…I need you.” “Grigori, I’m yours,” she said, almost choked by emotion. She’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted this strong, mysterious Horseman. He moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue and backed away from her so that he could shift to Huform. It happened in seconds—a blur of fur and flesh. Still the floor trembled from the force of his change. When it ended, he stood in front of her on two long, muscular human legs. His swollen cock and the tight balls beneath revealed the full power of his lust. Instinctively she reached out and curled her fist around his cock. She pumped it slowly and he momentarily closed his eyes and groaned. They settled onto the quilt and Grigori gently pressed her onto her back. Her head resting against the pillow, she gazed at him. She could scarcely wait to feel him between her legs again, this time in his man form. “Please, Grigori,” she said, tugging at his rock-hard arms. A faint smile touched his lips and he bent to kiss her again, his long, black-andwhite hair tickling her face and shoulders. She caressed his face and stroked his broad back. His hand dipped between her legs and she spread them, her pulse racing. Another moan escaped her when his thumb lightly brushed her clit. Ever so gently he slid first one then two long fingers inside her soaked pussy and explored. Then he withdrew them and circled her clit. The sensitive flesh tingled and throbbed.

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He moved lower and captured one of her nipples between his lips. His warm, wet tongue rolled over it and he gently worried it with his teeth. “Grigori,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. “I want you. Please fill me. Oh please.” Bracing a hand on either side of her head, he covered her body with his. His warmth and power enveloped her. Violeta had never felt anything as perfect as this. She’d never imagined she would make love with this exotically beautiful Horseman, even in her dreams. The tip of his cock pushed into her and she gasped and arched her back. Her legs wrapped around him in an attempt to pull him in deeper. Groaning, he moved slowly, filling her inch by fabulous inch. Finally buried to the hilt, he stopped moving and stared into her eyes. At that moment they didn’t need words to express what they felt. Grigori thrust in a steady rhythm that pushed her toward another climax…

~~~~~ Grigori awoke panting and drenched in sweat. From where he lay on a quilt by the hearth in his study, he pushed himself onto his elbows. His heart pounded as if he’d just flown at full speed to the tropics and his rock-hard cock ached with a need so deep that even self-stimulation wouldn’t fully satisfy him. Closing his eyes, he collapsed onto his back and tried to regain control of himself. In his entire life he’d never felt anything quite like this. The dream had been so real. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he and Violeta had just experienced a shared dream. Some Horsemen discovered their destined mates through shared dreams. Conceiving children with Horsemen proved more difficult than for two humans. According to legend, shared dreams united Horsemen with women who would carry their offspring. Surely even fate wouldn’t be cruel enough to offer such a gift to one who carried the marks. No woman had ever wished to mate with him, at least not without payment. In his youth, after Fighting Carriers had helped free the slaves, Grigori had visited prostitutes to satisfy his curiosity and the drives of his body. Despite his deformities, he possessed the same desires as other young Horsemen. As he’d matured, his pride had finally mastered his passion—until now. This dream left him overwhelmed with need and wielding an erection hard enough to drill through granite. In the dream, Violeta had been so willing, so wet and tight and so breathtakingly beautiful. In reality, the woman aroused him like no one he’d ever met. From their childhood she had touched his heart and despite how that heart had frozen over the years, she still reached it. Her small, warm hand wrapped around it, melting the icy barrier and leaving him… So damn vulnerable.

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He knew too well that when people sensed weakness, they dived in for the kill. People were the wickedest predators of all. In his lifetime he trusted very few people, human or Horseman, and he didn’t know Violeta well enough yet to expose himself to her. If this was a shared dream, destiny would have to wait until he learned to trust her.

***** Violeta awoke still tingling from the aftermath of an intense climax. Her stiff nipples and the dampness between her legs reminded her of a fantasy that seemed too real. As the physical pleasure dissipated, a longing so painful that she felt like weeping almost overcame her. More than anything she wished for Grigori to be here with her. It took a few moments for her to recover enough to rise, wash and dress. By the time she finished, sunlight shone through the window and she felt better. Still the dream lingered in her mind. She’d never experienced one so intense. She opened the door and stepped into the corridor. Movement in Grigori’s study caught her eye and she approached, her heart thumping at the thought of seeing him again. She glanced in the doorway. Grigori stood by the hearth, folding a thick quilt, a pillow by his sock-covered feet. His long hair hung in disarray, but she couldn’t help thinking the wildness of it made him even more attractive. “Good morning, Violeta,” he said, startling her. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed her. “Did you sleep here?” “Yes.” “You should go to your room and get some rest. Sleeping on the floor couldn’t have been comfortable.” “I’ve slept in far worse places.” She didn’t doubt him. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, his gaze fixed on hers. Recalling the dream, Violeta glanced away from him, hoping her face didn’t look as flushed as it felt. “Yes,” she murmured. “I usually sleep here when I’m involved in delicate experiments,” he continued after several moments of uncomfortable silence. The dream made confronting him difficult. She thought about riding him naked and making love with him. “However last night I was watching the stars. This room has no trees nearby to obscure the view.”

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“Watching the stars?” A faint smile tugged at her lips. Her gaze drifted to a tube of wood and metal resting by the window. “It’s a telescope,” he said. “Sorry?” “It makes distant things seem closer.” “You can truly see the stars through that?” “Not as closely as I’d like, but yes it improves the view.” She stepped closer to the device, but didn’t touch it. Grigori tossed the quilt and pillow onto a chair and asked, “Would you like to try it?” “Yes.” “Tonight after dark I’ll show you how to use it.” After dark? She and Grigori would be alone in this room at nighttime, just like in her dream. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I’m fine, my lord, but I need to start breakfast.” She quickly headed for the door. “Will you join me tonight?” he asked and she paused, her back to him. Her nipples tingled and she longed to feel his hands on her body. What was happening to her? “Violeta? It’s going to be another clear night so there will be an excellent view of the stars.” “Yes I’d like to join you,” she said. “Will you take breakfast here or in the great hall?” “I’ll eat in the kitchen.” She nodded and hurried out the door, hoping he wouldn’t stop her again. Her feelings for this man were becoming too strong too quickly. Still she’d known even before she asked for the job that Grigori was dangerous, not because of some silly superstition regarding the marks, but because he had always fascinated her. The strangest thoughts had been plaguing her since he returned. She was long past the usual marrying age for a woman in these parts and he was a couple of years older than she. Was it possible they belonged together? No. Regardless of how he felt about his family, noble blood still flowed through his veins and members of old families rarely mixed with common folk. The dream left her filled with unattainable desires and perhaps she’d been more lonely than she wanted to admit since her sister married and moved away. Grigori showed no sign of romantic interest in her. After the life he’d endured, she wondered if he knew how to express such feelings anyway. His family’s betrayal and a harsh life in slavery had left their marks on him.

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He had asked her to join him tonight, but had he invited her as a scientist longing to share his knowledge or as a man wishing to gaze at the stars with a woman who aroused him? Tonight, she would know.

***** Violeta had just set breakfast on the table when Grigori stepped into the kitchen. He wore black boots and breeches and a billowy black shirt with the ties open. He’d apparently bathed in the lake since his hair hung in damp tendrils down his back and a fresh, outdoorsy scent mingled with his arousing natural musk. He sat and ate while Violeta chopped vegetables to toss in the stewpot. Their gazes strayed to each other often, but they didn’t speak. Violeta couldn’t stop thinking about the dream and about the coming night when they would watch the stars together. After breakfast, Grigori returned to his study. At noon Violeta brought him a tray of food. Grigori thanked her absently, but seemed too absorbed in his potions to pay much attention to her or the meal. She closed the door behind her. What had she expected? Simply because he aroused her didn’t mean he felt the same way about her. Instead of returning directly to her chores, Violeta visited the small library that had belonged to Grigori’s mother. She chose a book and settled onto a chair, knowing Grigori was too wrapped up in his studies to find her here. Not that it would matter. He had offered her the room to use whenever she pleased. Hearing about his mother’s cruel treatment of him tainted her appreciation of the room. Yet his mother was no longer here and perhaps in time she could help make the castle a happy place, not just for Grigori but for herself as well.

***** In late afternoon, Grigori left the house for an exercise flight. Dusk fell and he hadn’t yet returned. Violeta wondered if he’d forgotten about dinner and their plans to look at the stars. As a servant she had no right to feel annoyance if he ignored her, yet as a woman she couldn’t help it. She took a bowl of stew and a slice of freshly baked bread and left the stuffy kitchen to eat outside. Instead of walking to the courtyard, she ventured to the front of the castle where she had a view of the forest. To her surprise, she saw Grigori in the distance, wading in a brook. He emerged, his man’s torso and beast-half dripping water. Her breath caught at his primitive beauty. Moonlight shone on his striking black and white coat. Muscles rippled beneath his glistening skin and she admired his sleek, muscular body. He moved gracefully but with underlying strength. Grigori glanced in her direction and she felt almost guilty about peeping at him, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

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He waved to her and she returned the gesture. As he approached, she couldn’t decide whether she should wait for him or duck inside. She decided to remain. “Having supper?” he asked, nodding toward her bowl. “Yes but I’ll serve yours—” “Join me.” “But it’s not—” “We’re the only ones here. If you’re worried about what others will think, there’s no one around to see you dining with one who bears the marks.” She held his gaze. “You know that’s not what’s stopping me.” “Then what?” What indeed? “All right,” she said and followed him inside. Grigori excused himself to change. A short time later he stepped into the kitchen in Huform. He wore simple brown trousers and a linen shirt, but hadn’t bothered with shoes. She glanced at his bare feet, noting they were large but rather bony. She’d never imagined a man’s feet could be attractive, but everything about Grigori appealed to her. To her surprise, he pulled out her chair for her. She sat, flattered but a bit uncomfortable. After all, she worked for him, yet he didn’t treat her as a servant. Once he’d seated her, he settled onto his chair. His nearness stirred her so much that she wasn’t sure if she could eat. Finally she took a spoonful of stew. Grigori broke a piece of bread and offered her half. Their fingertips touched as she accepted it from him. “I’m looking forward to seeing the stars tonight,” she said. “So am I.” “How is your experiment coming along?” “Very well. I’ve strengthened the original Rock Blood shell salve. It should help injuries heal even faster.” “How did you become a healer?” “When my father gave me to the slavers, he told them I had an aptitude for science. Instead of being trained as a gladiator, I worked with the healers who cared for the injured fighters.” “That was safer than being forced to fight.” Hardness crept into his eyes, though she sensed it wasn’t directed at her, but at his memories of the island. “No one was safe. Not in slavery. We lived or died according to our masters’ whims.” “I’m sorry,” she said softly. He shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about it. That part of my life is over.” “Yes it is. I’m glad you’re back, Grig—my lord.”

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“Please call me Grigori. If you’re the only one who’s glad I’m back, that’s enough for me.” He smiled faintly, but the iciness in his eyes thawed. Her stomach tightened with pleasure. When he looked at her like that, her heart soared. They finished their meal while enjoying pleasant but trivial conversation. Afterward, while she tidied the kitchen, Grigori went to prepare the study for a night of stargazing. Before joining him, Violeta freshened up, unbraided her hair and brushed it so that it hung over her shoulders and down her back in soft waves. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she left her room and headed to the study. Pale lantern light shone through the open door. Violeta stepped inside and Grigori turned to her from where he stood in front of the open window, the telescope beside him. “Come,” he said, extending his hand to her. She stepped closer and slid her hand into his.

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Chapter Four Stars and Stripes Grigori placed a hand on Violeta’s waist and gently guided her to the telescope. His warmth spread through her and she tingled at his touch. He stood so close that she caught his wonderful scent and felt the hardness of his body as he reached around her to adjust the microscope, trapping her between his arms. It took all her self-control not to lean into him. If only he’d wrap those strong arms around her and gather her close. “You look through there,” he said, pointing to the lens, his husky voice in her ear. Moistening her lips, Violeta leaned closer. When she looked through the telescope, she couldn’t help smiling in amazement. The stars seemed closer than they ever had before. Though she knew the names of some of the constellations, Grigori pointed out many others as well. “There’s Morgan,” Grigori pointed to a group of stars in the shape of the mythic Highland Stallion, Morgan. According to legend, Morgan was the father of all drafttype Horsemen. “And those are Dona’s eyes,” Violeta said, referring to two large, bright stars. “Yes. Do you know the story?” “Of course. My mother told us when we were children.” Violeta stepped back slightly from the telescope and continued, “At the dawn of time, two gods—brothers— settled in this world given to them by their parents, the makers of all things. Lucien, half-man and half-winged horse, ruled the sky and the weather. Hadrian, a man with the power to grant fertility, ruled the land. In their loneliness, they decided to create a people to share their world. Lucien commanded the sky to rain and with the mud, Hadrian molded people. The brothers anointed the people with their blood, giving them life. One of their new creations, a woman named Dona, captured the brothers’ hearts. Having shared everything all their lives, the brothers shared Dona as well. She loved both men and gave them many children. That’s how Horsemen and Humans came to this world.” “But that’s not where the story ends,” Grigori said. “Dona gave Hadrian sons and daughters. While Lucien had many sons, he had only one daughter—one Horsewoman to carry on his kind. A young Horseman named Constant differed from his brothers. Stripes marked his coat and he walked on cloven hooves. Because of this, the other Horsemen shunned him and the Horsewoman, whom he loved deeply, spurned him. Seeing harmony among those who excluded him and realizing he would never know love, he spread lies between Lucien and Hadrian. He told Lucien that Hadrian molded people in his likeness because he was jealous of his wings. He told Hadrian that Lucien had grown tired of sharing Dona and intended to take her to live with him in the 38

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clouds. The brothers fought. Lucien took Dona to the clouds for spite and Hadrian placed a magical curse on the Horsewoman, so she was no longer fertile. Distraught, the Horsewoman took her own life. In his grief, Constant confessed his crimes then flew over the Spikelands sea where he dropped into the water and flesh-eating plants devoured him.” When he finished speaking, Grigori held her gaze, as if waiting for her to point out the likeness between him and Constant. “I know that part of the story,” Violeta said softly. “After Constant‘s death, Lucien and Hadrian reconciled, but the makers of all things took away their powers. Lucien could no longer rule the weather and Hadrian had no more power over fertility. Like the people they created, they became mortal. With no Horsewomen, the only way for both races to continue was for human women to bear children for both. So here are.” “Here we are,” he whispered. “Still blaming striped Horsemen for Constant’s folly.” “Not everyone.” Violeta stepped closer and tilted her face toward his. Grigori caressed her cheek, his intent gaze bearing into hers. “You were never like the others.” A smile flickered across her lips. “You remember me from when we were children.” “How could I ever forget the little girl by the lake?” His gleaming eyes narrowed and he tilted his head slightly. “The second real gentle hand I had, until then, ever known.” Violeta could scarcely believe what he’d just said. “You do remember. I didn’t think you knew who I was.” “I knew the moment I saw you.” “Why didn’t you—” “I didn’t know how to bring it up, or if you remembered.” “Grigori, I could never forget you. I’ve thought about you all my life.” Without another word or a moment’s hesitation, he covered her mouth in a kiss so tender yet passionate that Violeta melted against him, her eyes closed and her entire body aflame. He held her closer. One hand cupped the back of her head while the other pressed lightly against her lower back. Violeta caressed the broad expanse of his back and shoulders. Her fingers gripped the hard muscles and she relished the feel of his warm, powerful body against hers. The tip of his tongue traced the shape of her lips then slid between them. She welcomed his tongue into her mouth and her tongue met it with tender strokes. When the kiss broke, she opened her eyes and her stomach fluttered at the warmth in his expression. She never dreamed Grigori’s eyes could look like this—without a trace of remoteness or ice.

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He kissed her again and their hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Violeta felt the unfamiliar but welcome sensation of his hard cock pressing against her. She needed that stiffness and stood on her tiptoes to press her clit against it. Grigori groaned and cupped her bottom. She gave a little cry of surprise and pleasure when he lifted her off the ground. He placed her back on her feet. She stumbled against him, but he caught her and smiled, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “My apologies,” he said, his voice husky and his breathing almost as heavy as hers. Ever so gently he traced her lips with the tip of his finger. “I don’t want to rush you.” She shook her head. “You’re not, but I—” “I understand. Violeta, you’re a kind, beautiful woman and I’m very attracted to you, but I didn’t hire you expecting anything from you besides an honest day’s work.” “I didn’t say—” “Where we go from here is up to you.” “Then I’d like to know you better, my lord.” He smiled. “In that case, stop calling me my lord. I’m Grigori.” “All right. Grigori.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him again. He nuzzled her neck and she slid her hands under his billowy shirt. Her fingertips trailed over his chiseled stomach and the muscles flexed and quivered beneath her caresses. Violeta had never seen or touched anyone so virile yet beautiful as this Horseman. Her palms swept over his chest, lightly brushing his nipples. She traced the ridges of old scars. Sorrow and anger washed over her at the thought of what he’d suffered in slavery. “I want you, Violeta, but not now,” he whispered against her lips. His words took her aback. Was he rejecting her? “I want you to be sure this is what you want,” he said, stroking her cheek. He brushed his lips across her temple. “Well we’ve waited this long,” she sighed. “I don’t want you to feel I’m taking advantage.” “I don’t.” “Good.” He took her hand and guided her back to the telescope. Violeta returned to stargazing, but concentrating on the sky proved difficult with Grigori standing so close and so many wild and unexpressed emotions between them. “Who was the first?” she asked softly. “Excuse me?” “You said mine was the second truly gentle hand you’d ever known. Whose was the first?”

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Their gazes met and he said, “My nurse. Since my mother wanted nothing to do with me, my father brought in a nurse to care for me. She was very kind and never treated me with contempt because of my marks. When I was six years old, my mother had her sent away. I think my father…took advantage of his position and my mother blamed the nurse.” “You don’t know what happened to her?” “My father allowed me to send her letters, without my mother knowing of course. The summer of my twelfth year I received a message from her sister. She’d died.” Violeta reached for his hand and squeezed it. He caressed her face and she thought for sure he’d kiss her again, but he turned back to the telescope. Later that night Grigori and Violeta reluctantly retired to their separate rooms. Violeta tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. If Grigori had suggested coming to her room or taking her to his, she wouldn’t have refused. She knew most men would have taken advantage of the situation. While she appreciated his respect for her, part of her wondered about his decision. Perhaps he wasn’t as attracted to her as she was to him. She finally drifted to sleep.

~~~~~ Grigori opened his eyes and sat up straighter in his chair. The book on his lap tumbled onto the floor, but he didn’t bother reaching for it. He’d fallen asleep in the chair, hoping to get his mind off Violeta by reading an astronomy book he’d borrowed from his mentor, Jian. A strange yet exciting sensation filled him and he stood and turned toward the door to his chamber. Though he’d remembered closing it, it was open. Seconds later, Violeta stepped inside. Grigori’s heart skipped a beat and his cock rose to attention. Moonlight bathed her naked body. Her long, honey-colored hair tumbled over her shoulders. Rose-colored nipples tipped firm, round breasts that he longed to caress. His gaze traveled lower, to the soft curve of her belly and the thatch of enticing sandy hair between her legs. Though rather short, she had excellent proportions and curves that stole his breath. “Violeta,” he said, his voice rough. He approached, but didn’t touch her. “I couldn’t stay away,” she breathed and placed her hands on his chest. The warmth of her touch and her very nearness aroused him so much that he wanted nothing more than to make love to her. Glancing down, he saw that he was naked too, though he had fallen asleep wearing a shirt and trousers. Tingling all over, he realized this wasn’t just any dream. This time he had no doubt it was a shared dream. 41

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As if reading his mind, she asked, “This is real, isn’t it?” “I think so,” he replied, gazing into her wide blue eyes. Unable to resist, Grigori kissed her. Her soft lips willingly parted to his searching tongue. Groaning, he explored her mouth while his hands roamed over her luscious body. He caressed her back and cupped her rounded bottom, lifting her lightly off the ground so her soft mound pressed against his stiff cock. “Oh, Grigori,” she murmured, clinging to his neck. Her full breasts pressed against his chest. They felt so marvelous, soft and plaint against his muscular body. All his life he’d longed for this—a woman who gave herself to him freely, who truly wanted him as much as he wanted her. He groaned and broke their kiss only to nuzzle her neck. “I want you so much, Violeta, but only if you’re ready.” “I’m more than ready,” she breathed and kissed him, gently biting his lower lip. Grigori moaned and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Her tongue met it eagerly. Grigori swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed. He placed her upon it and, bracing a hand on either side of her head, bent to kiss her…

~~~~~ Grigori awoke panting, his heart pounding and his cock rock-hard. He picked up the book from his knees and placed it on a nearby table. Trying to calm down, he walked to the open window and drew several deep breaths. These dreams would drive him to distraction. He reached down and gave himself a quick rub, but he needed more, preferably Violeta. When he closed his eyes, he imagined thrusting into her pussy, feeling her heat and wetness around him. Stop! She’s not yours. Not yet. You told her you didn’t want to rush. Yet living up to his noble words proved more difficult than he’d imagined. Perhaps a canter through the woods would calm him enough to sleep. He splashed water on his face from a basin on the nightstand, then pulled off his shirt and headed for the door. Downstairs he’d change to his beast-half. He opened the door and again his heart skipped a beat when he came face-to-face with Violeta. Gasping, she stepped back in surprise. “Sorry to frighten you,” he said, cupping her cheek. She sighed with relief and smiled, tilting her face into his hand. “It was my fault. I just…I’m not sure how to say this, but I had to see you. Did you…” “Yes?” he whispered, staring at her intently and hoping she would mention the dream. “Did you happen to…dream?” 42

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“Oh yes, Violeta,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. He caressed her face. “I dreamed.” “Tell me about it.” “I woke in my chair, just like now, and you stepped into my room.” “Then you kissed me.” He nodded. “We were naked.” “Yes.” He stepped closer, his gaze drifting to her full lower lip and her delicate upper one. When she placed her hands on his chest, he covered them with his. He knew she must feel his heart pounding as if he’d just come from an exercise flight. Already a light sweat had broken out over him. As a Horseman, he had a naturally high body temperature and being this close to her raised it even more. “It was a shared dream, wasn’t it?” she asked. “I never had one before, but I think it had to be. How else would we dream the same thing?” “Twice. The night before…” “You too.” A faint smile tugged at his lips, then faded as old fears crept into his soul. “How do you feel, having a dream lover who bears the marks?” “I told you before. The marks mean nothing to me, except that they make you far more striking than other Horsemen.” She had just spoken the words he had never thought to hear. “Violeta,” he whispered against her lips. “Please make love to me,” she said softly, winding her fingers through his hair and tugging him closer. “Please don’t refuse.” “Refuse? How can I refuse to breathe?” He kissed her again and picked her up, his mouth never leaving hers. Like in the dream, he carried her to his bed, but when he placed her on it, they didn’t wake. Staring into her eyes, he caressed her softly rounded cheek and brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “You always were.” “So are you,” she whispered and to his surprise the look in her eyes reinforced her words. “Why?” he asked. “Why do you feel this way about me? Is it because of the dream sharing?” “Why does it matter?” She placed a hand to his cheek. “Grigori, I could ask you the same question. Why would a nobleman want me, if not for the dream sharing?”

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His brow furrowed and the icy look crept into his eyes. “Nobility means nothing to me.” “And the marks mean nothing to me.” His expression thawed and he smiled. “You’re a wise woman.” “And still beautiful?” She grinned. “Very beautiful.” He covered her mouth in a kiss. Violeta’s fingers curled in his hair and massaged his scalp. It felt so wonderful that it might have relaxed him had he not been so aroused. He gently thrust his tongue between her lips and her mouth opened for him. Every nerve in his body tingled and his cock swelled, threatening to burst through his trousers. Violeta moaned softly and kneaded his shoulders. Her small, curvy body undulated beneath him, stirring him even more. Reluctantly he broke the kiss only to stand and shed his clothes. “I’ll be right back,” he said and left momentarily to retrieve a small glass container and a goblet of water from his study. When he returned to his bedroom, Violeta sat on the bed, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, the nightgown clasped to her breasts and her knees bent. A blush stained her smooth face and her gaze fixed on the tips of her pretty toes that wiggled against the covers. He sensed she felt a bit awkward and so did he. “I’ve never been with a man before,” she admitted. That confession thrilled him. He wanted to make her first time perfect. Though he longed to satisfy his pleasure, he wanted to please her just as much. “Look at me,” he commanded gently. He cupped her chin and she lifted her gaze toward his. “Do you want this?” In reply, she again rose to her knees and slid her arms around his neck, her mouth pressed to his. The nightgown fell and her full breasts pressed against his chest. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, loving the feel of her small, warm body against his. “Please,” she whispered and kissed him again. Their tongues plundered each other’s mouths. He reluctantly broke the kiss to add a few pinches of the herb in the glass container to the water goblet. He sipped, then offered her the glass. “What is it?” she asked. “It prevents conception.” Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. “You don’t want children?” “My children risk inheriting my marks.”

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Holding his gaze, she touched his cheek and said, “I understand, but they also could inherit your brilliant mind, your strength and your courage.” He knew she meant to be kind, but at this time he wasn’t prepared to risk fathering children who would be as hated as he was, simply because they didn’t conform to the majority’s description of an ideal Horseman. “We’ll talk about it another time,” she said softly and sipped from the goblet. Relieved, Grigori took it from her and placed it on the bedside table. Gazing into her eyes, he eased her onto her back and braced a hand on either side of her head. He kissed her again with all the passion he felt. His legs slid between hers and she thrust her pelvis upward, her soft mound pushing against his excited cock. Despite his raging desire, Grigori took his time with her. He dipped a hand between her legs, pleased to find her already damp. He brushed a thumb over her clit and she whimpered and clung to him harder. Ever so gently he eased a finger inside her and explored her soaked pussy. Then he added a second finger and a third. Nothing felt as good as touching her, or so he thought until her small hand reached down and curled around his cock. Instinctively she squeezed and stroked him, then swept her thumb along the underside of his cock head. “Violeta,” he murmured, his eyes closed and his neck arched. “Right there.” “Like this?” She continued teasing that sensitive place. His heart raced and he nuzzled her neck, then ran his tongue along the side of it. For several moments he let her stroke him until he could scarcely stand her gentle touch a moment longer. Then he moved lower, leaving a trail of kisses between her breasts. He paused and rolled his tongue over her nipple. Violeta gasped and clutched his head. Her reaction spurred him on and he sucked and licked her nipple until she moaned and writhed beneath him. “Oh Grigori,” she panted, clinging to him. “Please. It feels so good.” He moved to her other breast and worried her nipple with his teeth then swept his tongue over the pert bud. This woman’s taste and scent thrilled him and he loved the arousal in her breathy voice. Her fingers caressed his hair and fondled the sensitive tips of his pointy Horseman ears. They twitched and wiggled and he groaned, leaving her breasts to cover the soft curve of her belly with kisses. He dipped the tip of his tongue into her navel and her stomach quivered. Grigori cupped her bottom and kneaded. She had beautiful buttocks—fleshy yet firm, the skin smooth. He moistened his lips, then bent his head and swept his tongue over her clit. His eyes closed, he learned the texture of her flesh and enjoyed her musky, feminine scent. “Oh, Grigori,” she moaned. He could only imagine how wonderful this felt to a woman who had never enjoyed pleasures of the flesh. The first time a woman had used her mouth on his cock, the sensations had overwhelmed him within moments. She had been a tavern wench, well 45

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paid for her services. The thought of Violeta stimulating him orally made his cock even harder and more sensitive than it already was. The tavern wench had meant nothing to him and he, nothing to her. Violeta, however, meant more to him than he imagined a woman could. Realizing this, he wanted to please her even more. He thrust his tongue into her pussy and swirled it around, then he lapped her clit with rhythmic, upward strokes. This drove her wild. She cried out and would have writhed off the bed if he hadn’t held her steady. Her tender flesh pulsed and she sobbed in an intense climax. Grigori didn’t stop licking her until she lay panting and sated. Stretching out beside her, he trailed his fingertips between her breasts, then gently kneaded the soft spheres, intermittently brushing his thumb over her nipples. Finally she opened her eyes and turned to him with a satisfied smile. “That was…” She closed her eyes momentarily and shook her head, chuckling softly. “I have no words for how good that felt.” Her gaze lowered to his rock-hard cock and his breath caught as she grasped it. Grigori closed his hand over hers and showed her how to stroke it to bring the most pleasure. “Fill me,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “I want to be as close to you as possible. I want you inside me.” Grigori kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose and finally her lips. He covered her body with his, careful to bear most of his weight on his forearms. The tip of his cock pushed against her hot, wet pussy and he slid inside as slowly and gently as possible. It wasn’t easy, since he was so aroused and she so thoroughly soaked from her climax just moments ago. His muscles tightened and quivered and his heart pounded. The sound of her breathing and soft moans reminded him that this was new to her. “Let me know if I’m hurting you,” he said, yet when he looked into her eyes, he saw no fear or pain, only lustful curiosity. “You’re not,” she murmured. “It feels… Don’t stop.” His eyes closed halfway and he continued until she accepted him fully. Then they held each other’s gaze and a smile tugged at her lips. He couldn’t help smiling back. Grigori thrust slowly at first, careful not to cause her harm, but soon her excitement made taking his time impossible. Her excited breathing tickled his ear and she clung to him, her hips thrusting and her hands clutching his ass in an attempt to drive him in deeper and faster. “Yes, oh heavens, yes!” she panted. “Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” Violeta’s exploring hands slid down his spine and he gave a raw shout of pleasure when they found his Turning Point.

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He couldn’t stop if he wanted to and hoped he could hold back long enough for her to— Violeta cried out in ecstasy. Her arms and legs tightened around him and her wet pussy clamped his cock and pulsed around it. The last fraying strand of his self-control snapped. He shouted with pleasure and came so long and hard that for several moments he drifted in sightless passion. Groaning, he managed to shift most of his weight off her before he collapsed onto his stomach and drifted into satisfied slumber.

***** The next morning Violeta awoke next to Grigori. He rested beside her, his eyes closed, and she smiled. Though she longed to touch him, she didn’t want to disturb his sleep, so she slipped quietly from the bed, dressed and went to the well to draw water for washing. After cleaning, she brushed and braided her hair then went to the kitchen and started breakfast. A short time later, Grigori joined her. “Did you sleep well?” he asked from where he stood in the doorway. “Very well. Did you?” He nodded, stepped nearer and took her in his arms. Sighing with pleasure, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and caressed her back. “We need more firewood,” he said softly. She stepped away and glanced toward the hearth. When she’d arrived in the kitchen earlier, she’d had just enough wood to start a fire for the stewpot. “I’ll get some,” he said. At that moment, loud pounding echoed from the great hall. “What in the world is that?” Violeta demanded. “Sounds like someone is trying to break down the front door,” Grigori said and strode out of the kitchen, Violeta close behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Stay here until I see who it is.” She continued after him. “Woman, can’t you follow a simple order?” “From my employer, yes. From my dream lover, no.” He cast her an irritated look. The pounding continued and when they stepped into the great hall, the large wooden door shook beneath the force of the blows from whomever or whatever stood on the other side. “Stay back, Violeta. I mean it,” Grigori commanded, his gaze so intense that she paused.

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Her stomach clenched and her heart pounded. What was happening out there? “Maybe you shouldn’t have sent all your royal guards away,” she said, glancing nervously toward the door. Grigori quickly shed his clothes and shifted to his beast-half. He paused for a few seconds while the momentary weakness that followed shapeshifting passed, then he bellowed, “Who is it?” “Open up, de Forest! I’m here for my sister-in-law.” Violeta’s brow furrowed and she said, “That’s Fredek, my sister’s husband.” Grigori unlocked the door and opened it as Violeta came to stand beside him. Outside, Fredek, Ivan and two other Horsemen from the village stood glaring at Grigori. The redhead she recognized as Bartok and the sandy-haired Horseman was named Drago. “Violeta, come with us,” Fredek ordered, extending his hand to her. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “It’s all right,” Fredek continued. “Come now. We won’t let him stop us.” She and Grigori exchanged glances and Fredek shoved Grigori hard in the chest. Fredek, a tall, well-muscled stallion, earned his living as a blacksmith. Few could match his brute strength. Though he managed to push Grigori back a bit, the slighter Horseman stood his ground. “Get out of my house,” Grigori said, his usually soft voice practically a growl. “Not without Violeta.” “Fredek, what’s this about?” Violeta asked again. “We’re not going to let you take our women or our money,” Ivan told Grigori. “We’ll do anything to defend our village.” “Your village is built on my land,” Grigori said flatly. “The de Forest nobility died with your father,” shouted Bartok, who stood at the back of the group. “We don’t want you here,” said Ivan. “You came to my door,” Grigori told them. “It’s in your best interest to leave.” “Not without—” “I’m not going with you, Fredek,” Violeta said. “This is the last time I’ll ask you to leave,” Grigori said. “You’ll do what we tell you, freak,” Ivan shouted. “Your royal guards aren’t here to defend you. We’re going to take what belongs to us.” Shouting wildly, Fredek, Ivan and the others charged their way inside, pushing Grigori back. Violeta screamed and leapt out of the way to avoid being trampled.

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The Horsemen circled Grigori. Fredek’s fist struck at Grigori’s face while Bartok charged him from behind. Grigori’s back leg lashed out in a fierce kick that sent Bartok flying backward while at the same time he dodged Fredek’s meaty fist. Grigori and Fredek reared, their front equine legs smashing against each other’s beast shoulders while they traded blows with their human hands. Drago attacked Grigori from the side. He twisted, kicked and punched. He took several strikes by fist and hoof that would have floored a weaker Horseman and fought with the strength and skill of a Fighting Carrier. Ivan, who had been among those elite warriors, received a hoof in the face that rendered him unconscious and sent him crashing into the long, oak table. The sound of bones cracking echoed through the room. Within moments Grigori finished the fight, leaving Fredek and Drago on their equine knees, their eyes blackened and noses streaming blood. He stood, panting, his mismatched eyes wild and his black-and-white coat stained red from several cuts he’d sustained during the brawl. Violeta could scarcely believe what she’d just seen. Where had a healer and scientist like Grigori learned to fight like this? She rushed to him to examine his injuries. “Are you all right?” she asked. “I’m fine.” He glanced around warily, as if waiting for another attack. “You bastard!” screamed Violeta’s sister, Elisabetta, who rushed into the great hall through the open door. She carried a tree branch and swung it at Grigori, but he grasped it and tore it from her hand. “Elisabetta, calm yourself!” Violeta grasped her sister’s shoulders hard. “Leave him alone!” “Leave him alone? Look what he did to them!” “It serves them right. They attacked him.” “Because he’s holding you here!” Violeta curled her lip. “No he’s not.” Her sister momentarily froze. “He’s not? But Ivan said—” “Ivan? I should have known he was behind this. Elisabetta, I’m working here of my own free will.” “What?” Fredek said, his voice nasal since he pinched his bleeding nose. He glared at Ivan through blackened eyes. The dark-coated Horseman had just come to and groaned, pushing himself to his knees. The others also stood, looking rather dazed. Ivan moaned again and doubled over, hugging his side. “I think my ribs are broken.” Bartok bent to examine him and said, “I think he needs a healer.” Violeta and Grigori exchanged sardonic looks.

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“Well imagine that,” Violeta said. “We happen to have a very good healer right here, except you just tried to beat him to death.” “I’d rather die than accept his help.” Ivan glared and tried to head for the door, but staggered against a bench. Bartok and Drago grasped his arms to steady him. “You might get your wish if you don’t let him examine you,” Violeta said. “If he’ll help after what you did.” “I’ll see the villager healer,” Ivan said, his face tense and pale. “You don’t look like you’ll make it to the door, let alone back to the village,” Elisabetta said. Grigori raised his eyes to the heavens and shook his head. “Bring him to the bench. I’ll get some supplies.” He headed to the upper floor, probably to his study. “I said I don’t need your—” “Be silent for once,” Fredek told him. “You’ve caused enough problems already.” “Violeta, you’re truly here of your own free will?” Elisabetta asked. “Yes.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I was going to send you a letter this week.” “You could have come to live with me and Fredek.” “I want to be here, Elisabetta. Regardless of what these fools from the village told you, Grigori is a good man.” The sisters locked gazes and Elisabetta nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “We’ll have to talk more at another time. Right now we need to help these silly beasts clean up.” Elisabetta’s gray gaze shifted to the Horsemen. She approached her husband and stood on tiptoe to inspect his swollen nose. “I think it might be broken.” “De Forest is stronger than he looks,” Fredek muttered. “Obviously he’s not the same skinny colt we used to beat up when he showed his face in the village,” said Drago. “Ivan, next time you want to pick a fight with one who bears the marks, count me out,” said Bartok. Violeta left the others to hurry upstairs. She wanted to make sure Grigori wasn’t hurt more seriously than he’d let on.

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Chapter Five Warrior, Healer, Lover Violeta found Grigori in his study, gathering healing supplies. “Bandages are in the trunk,” he said, nodding toward the brassbound box across the room. “Grab some please.” She did as ordered, but said, “You’re hurt too.” “Not badly.” “Grigori, where did you learn to fight like that?” “I told you I came from a gladiatorial colony.” “But you said you were a healer there.” “At the colony, anyone could be sent into the arena at any time. I had friends there who trained me to fight and I’m grateful to them for it.” “Did you actually fight in the arena?” “Yes.” He picked up a bag filled with various healing supplies. On their way back to the great hall, he continued, “Like the people here, some of the gladiators didn’t like me because of the marks. One in particular took great pleasure in goading me. At first I could do little against him, but with training my skills grew. One day he attacked me. I fought back and knocked him out. A couple of slavers witnessed the fight and after that I became a regular in the arena.” A smile tugged at Violeta’s lips. “Something amuses you?” he asked. “Yes. Those Horsemen downstairs got exactly what they deserved.” “I agree, but I don’t think this confrontation will improve my relationship with the villagers.” “At least once they know we’re dream lovers they won’t have a reason to interfere between us anymore.” He paused and gently grasped her arm. Gazing into her eyes, he said, “Violeta, don’t tell them that. Not now.” “Why?” “I expect them to shun me, but if you admit you’re bound to me in such a way, they’ll shun you too.” “I don’t care what they think—” “I care, for your sake.” “Grigori, aren’t you happy we’re dream lovers?”

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“It means more to me than I can put into words, but I don’t want you to act rashly then regret it.” She placed a hand on his chest. “I could never regret being your dream lover.” “All I ask is that you wait a little longer before announcing it. I want you to be sure.” “I am sure.” “Violeta, please—” “But if it means so much to you, I’ll wait.” His reluctance to reveal their connection troubled her. Perhaps he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bind himself to her. After all, he was accustomed to being on his own. Maybe he considered her an intrusion on his life and his studies. Grigori nodded, then they made their way down the ramp to the great hall. While he saw to Ivan, Violeta cleaned the cuts and scrapes on Grigori’s beast-half. She started to clean a bleeding scratch on his ribs, but he glanced at her and said, “Leave that one.” “But—” “Do you have to question everything?” “Not if you made sense.” His gaze shifted to hers, then a smile tugged at his lips. “Help your sister with the others.” Violeta did as he asked and joined Elisabetta in tending the other Horsemen who had also sustained mild injuries. “We need to return to the village,” said Bartok. “I don’t suggest you travel with these broken ribs,” Grigori told Ivan. “At least not for a day or two. I also suggest shifting shape since it speeds the healing process. You may stay here until—” “No,” Ivan said with a curl of his lip. “Ivan, don’t be an even bigger fool than you have been already,” Violeta said. “Rest here and then—” “As if you care what happens to me,” Ivan snapped. “We came here to rescue you and—” “You didn’t come here to rescue me.” She glared at him. “You came here to start trouble with Grigori.” “We had to do something,” Bartok muttered. “The rent is due soon and we—” “Silence, fool!” Ivan snarled. “Why?” Elisabetta asked. “Why shouldn’t he speak? If you admit the villagers can’t afford the rent, maybe Grigori will work with you to—” “If old Lord de Forest were alive, he would have negotiated,” Bartok said.

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“Yes he would have,” Violeta said quietly. “However you don’t know if Grigori would have because you didn’t bother asking him. You came here and attacked him instead.” “Now it’s too late,” muttered Drago. “Perhaps not,” Elisabetta said, glancing from Violeta to Grigori. “Lord de Forest, would you consider—” “Woman, you have no business speaking for us,” Ivan grunted as Grigori bound his human ribs tightly. “Watch how you speak to my wife, Ivan, or I’ll break your equine ribs as well,” Fredek said. “He won’t hear us out,” Drago said, then raised an eyebrow in Grigori’s direction. “Will you?” “I understand your crops have been bad,” Grigori said. “And money is scarce.” “We don’t need any favors from you,” Ivan snapped. “Uh, yes we do,” Bartok said. “My family has scarcely enough to eat. This year’s crops are somewhat better than last year’s, but it’s still a month until the harvest. If de Forest is willing to give us more time to pay, then I’m not too proud to accept his offer.” “Neither am I,” said Drago. “And I’m sure the others will feel the same way.” “Fine. If that’s what you want,” Ivan muttered. “When we return to the village, we’ll ask the Chieftain to call a meeting. De Forest, what are your terms? How much extra will we owe for the deferred payment?” “I’m a fair man,” Grigori said. “And no stranger to hardship. I’m willing to postpone the payment until after the harvest at no extra charge.” Drago narrowed his eyes. “Surely you want something in return?” “Yes. I ask for a measure of civility the next time you come to my house.” The Horsemen, even Ivan, looked a bit uncomfortable. “That’s reasonable enough,” said Bartok. “Our apologies for the intrusion, Lord de Forest.” Grigori nodded. “We’ll be on our way,” Ivan said. “If you intend to leave right now, I don’t suggest you fly,” Grigori told Ivan. “I’ll walk,” Ivan said. “I’ll go with you,” Bartok told him. “Boy, I don’t need a keeper!” Ivan grumbled, but didn’t protest further as Bartok fell into step beside him on the way out of the castle. “Again, I’m sorry,” Elisabetta said to her sister and Grigori. “Violeta, if you need anything—” “You as well,” Violeta said and embraced her.

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“Write soon and visit when you can.” “I will.” A short time later, their unexpected guests had gone, leaving Violeta and Grigori alone once again. “What were we about to do when they so rudely interrupted us?” Grigori asked, cupping her face and gazing into her eyes. “Eat breakfast.” “Ah. An excellent idea. Fighting always makes me hungry.” Violeta chuckled and hugged him tightly. “Grigori, you’re an amazing Horseman.” “I don’t know about that, but I do know you’re an amazing woman.” “Before we eat, I think we should finish cleaning your injuries.” “Yes. I want to try the new salve I made from the Rock Blood shells.” Grigori made his way to his study, Violeta beside him. “I thought you were still experimenting? Isn’t it dangerous to test it?” “How else am I to know if it works? Besides, I’ve used a milder version already, remember?” In the study, she cleaned blood from his face while he washed the scratch on his ribs and treated it with the slave. Violeta wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like how it smells.” “Well it’s not perfume.” When he finished, he poured fresh water from a pitcher into a basin on his work table and gestured for her to wash her hands. She dipped her hands into the bowl and he reached around her from behind to wash his hands at the same time. His long fingers trailed over the backs of her hands and desire swept through her. Heat from his body seeped into her and she closed her eyes for a moment and leaned against him. He kissed her hair and she tilted her head to the side so he could trail his lips along her neck. Still nuzzling her, he reached for a nearby towel and dried her hands then his. Grigori turned her to face him and covered her mouth in a tender kiss. He swept her into his arms and headed out of the study and down to the kitchen. Violeta clung to his neck and kissed him, then her smile faded. Stroking his face, she asked, “What’s the real reason you want to keep our dream sharing a secret?” “I told you why.” “Are you sure it isn’t because you’re not certain you want me?” His brow furrowed. “Is that what you think?” “Is it the truth? Maybe a little bit?” “Not at all.” He placed her back on her feet and reached out to touch her hair but stopped before his hand actually made contact. “I’m sorry if that’s what I made you

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think. I was concerned about you, Violeta. You’re the last person in this village I would use selfishly.” He turned and strode toward the door. “What about breakfast?” she asked. “I’ll get it myself. I have a flight to make and won’t be back until later this afternoon.” “Where are you going?” “Salvation Valley. It’s a small settlement farther east. My mentor lives there and I have books to return to him.” “Would you like company?” “No. I’ll be flying fast. You wouldn’t enjoy it. Rather than stay here alone, would you like me to fly you to your sister‘s?” “No. I’d like some time to myself, actually,” she said. Grigori nodded and left without further conversation. Violeta sighed, feeling heartsick. Her question had clearly offended him, but what had he expected her to think? Perhaps he was right. Maybe they needed some time apart. So much had happened to them within a short time.

***** Flying at a moderate pace, a Horseman could reach Salvation Valley in about two hours. Disturbed by his parting words with Violeta, Grigori traveled fast, hoping that pushing himself to his physical limits would help clear his mind. She had accused him of wanting to hide their connection out of uncertainty and in a way she was right. Grigori had spent his life as an outsider. In slavery he had garnered a small, close-knit circle of friends, so he understood about loyalty and commitment. He didn’t fear binding himself to Violeta. In truth he wanted to be with her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, except perhaps freedom. If she chose to marry him, what kind of life would she have? What about children? When he’d offered her the herb before they’d mated, he’d seen the look in her eyes. The woman obviously wanted children and if so she should choose a different sire for them. Yet according to legend, dream sharing brought together mates who were destined to produce offspring. Even if Violeta accepted the problems sure to come with being the wife of one who bears the marks, how would their children feel? Would he hinder his daughter’s chances of finding a husband of her own? Would his son inherit his striped coat and resent him for it? How could he willingly subject his offspring to the same pain he’d suffered because of his affliction?

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He reached the small village of Salvation Valley in record time. Panting hard, he trotted off the Running Way and wiped sweat from his eyes. Two brown-coated Horsemen working in a nearby field waved to him and he waved back. Here in Salvation Valley, most everyone treated him as a friend, or at least with a measure of respect. They had endured slavery together and after Fighting Carriers had helped them overthrow the colony several years ago, they settled here and elected Jian as their Chieftain. Grigori had built a cottage on the outskirts of the village, part of them but separate, as he had been all his life. Even among friends, part of him needed to keep a distance, though he didn’t fully understand why. The only person he wanted no distance from was the very person he could hurt with his love—Violeta. He’d never felt this way about anyone before. Grigori had learned to be strong and independent, but Violeta breached the barrier around his heart. Walking through the settlement of stone and wood cottages, he exchanged greetings with people he passed, though his thoughts still focused on Violeta. When he reached Jian’s stone-faced house at the edge of town he caught sight of the older Horseman tending window boxes filled with herbs. He had a dapple-gray coat and long, steel-gray hair twisted into a braid. Despite his advanced years, he had a youthful body and few lines on his face. He turned to Grigori and smiled, his slanted, gray eyes as friendly yet discerning as ever. “Hello, my friend,” Jian said, his gaze sweeping Grigori. “You look like you flew here with a demon on your tail.” The accuracy of that description unsettled Grigori, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he reached into the sweat-dampened leather pouch that hung from a strap swathing his shoulder and chest. He removed two books and handed them to Jian. “These were helpful. Thank you.” “I was in no hurry to get them back, but something tells me that’s not the reason you’ve been challenging yourself.” “I needed the exercise.” “Then you’ve come to the right place. We’ve missed you around here during our training sessions. You haven’t been gone long, but it feels like ages.” “I feel the same way.” “Do you? By those cuts and bruises you look like you’ve been training or worse. Problems in the village?” “Just a misunderstanding. It’s settled now.” Jian stepped closer and embraced Grigori, then slapped his equine shoulder. “I know you, Grigori, and it’s not a practice session you need. What’s wrong?”

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His mentor’s perceptiveness irritated him, yet at the same time he felt grateful for it. From childhood he had learned to disguise his emotions, but he couldn’t hide anything from Jian. Disturbingly, Violeta seemed to have the same knack for reading him. “It’s nothing important,” Grigori said. How could he tell someone else about their dream sharing when he had sworn Violeta to secrecy? It would be selfish and unfair. Jian narrowed his eyes at Grigori and said, “Let’s go for a swim. You need to cool down and it’s always more pleasant to talk while relaxing in the water.” The men walked side-by-side to the lake, taking their time to allow Grigori to cool off after his flight. Soon they waded in the water and Grigori felt a bit better. He also felt silly for running away from Violeta. Jian was right. He hadn’t needed to return the books so quickly. “Are you going to tell me about it?” Jian asked. “The Rock Blood shell experiments are going quite well. I used the improved salve on an injury this morning and it worked fine.” Jian tossed him a chastising look. “You know that’s not what I meant, though I do want to hear about your progress.” “I can’t talk about it.” “Then why did you come to me?” Grigori raised his eyes to the heavens and shook his head. “Jian, why are you—” “So perceptive? Call it a gift and talk to me.” Sighing deeply, Grigori strode out of the lake and shook off while standing in the lush grass. Now that he’d cooled down, the warm sun felt wonderful on his bare human flesh and smooth-coated beast-back. The only thing missing from this beautiful day was Violeta. Jian joined him, tilting his gaze toward the clear sky and waiting patiently for Grigori to speak. Finally he said, “I’ve met someone.” “A lady?” “Yes. Most definitely a lady.” “And how does she feel about you?” “I think…no I know she feels the same way about me. She told me.” “Then why are you here talking to me instead of her? Does her family not approve?” “Her parents are dead and she has a sister who I don’t believe will be a problem.” “Then what?” Grigori met Jian’s gaze, knowing anger burned in his eyes but unable to control it. His bitterness wasn’t directed at his mentor and Jian seemed to understand this and looked at him with sympathy but not pity.

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“I don’t care if I’m shunned by the villagers, but I don’t want her to suffer because she’s allied herself with me.” “Shouldn’t it be her choice?” “Now you sound like her.” “Do you want to be respected?” “What kind of question is that? Of course I want to be respected. No one has to like me, but they do need to respect me.” “Then why can’t you respect this woman?” Grigori stared at Jian, aghast. “Of course I respect her!” “By treating her like a child or an imbecile, suggesting she can’t decide for herself whom she loves?” “First I’m not implying that. Second it’s a bit soon to talk about love. We just started sharing drea…” Grigori could have bitten his tongue. How could he have let that slip? Jian’s eyes sparkled. “A dream lover? The gods have smiled upon you.” Grigori snorted. “Remember it’s me we’re talking about. It’s more like the gods are laughing at me and her.” “After all your accomplishments you still have little self-worth.” His words truly offended Grigori whose eyes narrowed and ears swept back. “I most certainly do value myself. I couldn’t care less about those ignorant, backward—” “You must.” “For her sake.” “Is it for her sake or are you afraid?” “I swear if one more person suggests I’m afraid I’m going to kick a tree down.” Jian folded his arms across his chest, an amused look in his eyes. “Yes, I can see how that will help. Grigori, in many ways you’re a great man—a warrior, a healer, a scientist. But in the ways of love, you’re still a boy.” Grigori curled his lip. “I’m starting to think I’m better off among the villagers back home.” “You still call it home. That’s quite telling.” “You know what I mean. The place where I was born. Is that better?” “If it meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t have returned. This woman means even more to you. I’ve never been lucky enough to have a dream lover, but I’ve heard the bond between them is almost unbreakable. Severing it will cause you both great pain.” “I know,” Grigori said softly. “It seems no matter what I do I’ll cause her pain.” “You’ll do well to let her tell you if you’re hurting her. Unless as I suggested you’re afr—” “Don’t say it.” “Why not? There are no trees for you to kick down in our general area.” 58

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In spite of himself, Grigori grinned. “Maybe you’re right.” “Good. Before you go, do you have time for a practice session? I’m meeting the others for sparring soon.” “I think that’s a good idea,” Grigori said, recalling the fight that morning. No matter what, he intended to keep Violeta safe. He had learned to protect what belonged to him. The villagers had already started to learn that. Visiting Salvation Valley and enjoying a friendly sparring match then a meal with his old friends greatly improved Grigori’s mood. By the time he left, his calm, rational side had once again taken over and he realized both Violeta and Jian had been right. He was afraid, but he had never let fear control him before or prevent him from pursuing what he wanted. If Violeta had the courage and determination to let others know they were dream lovers, then he had no reason to hide it. Approaching de Forest Castle, he experienced a combination of excitement and apprehension. She might still be upset about their earlier conversation, but he was determined to destroy any barrier he’d built.

***** Violeta spent the day cleaning furiously. Though she realized because of his past Grigori might hesitate to delve into a relationship, she couldn’t help feeling hurt. It had been easy enough for him to take her to his bed, but he refused to commit, claiming to be concerned for her welfare. He had even taken steps to ensure that she wouldn’t conceive. Maybe she shouldn’t blame him entirely. After all, he hadn’t forced her to make love with him. She’d been more than willing. If she couldn’t find a way to reach his heart, to work through the damage caused by his family and the slavers, there would be no hope for them. People had warned her not to come here and now she wondered if they hadn’t been right. Grigori didn’t need her or anyone. The way he’d left this morning, she could no longer be sure he even wanted her. After dusting the castle and sweeping the bedrooms, kitchen and study, she stirred the simmering contents of the stewpot, then read for a while. Deciding to take advantage of the pleasant day, she walked in the courtyard and weeded Grigori’s herb garden. She enjoyed working among the plants and loved the warmth of the sun. Gardening made her feel better and soon she forgot about her problems with Grigori, or at least pushed them to the back of her mind. “Landscaping isn’t part of your job.” Her heart pounding, Violeta jumped. She tossed aside a handful of weeds and tumbled onto her backside from where she’d been squatting by the mint plants. Grigori stood wearing his Huform, a broad shoulder leaning against the kitchen doorway. He folded his sinewy arms across his chest. Shirtless, he wore loose black 59

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trousers that dipped far enough below his navel for her to see the outline of his pubic hair. Despite her lingering annoyance, passion flared through her at the sight of him. A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” “I didn’t hear you return.” She stood, brushing dirt from her dress. “You don’t have to weed.” “I enjoy it. If I were home right now, I’d be working in my garden.” He straightened and approached, his gaze locked on hers. “Do you miss your cottage?” “I miss how it used to be when I was growing up. Now not so much.” Grigori reached for her hand and she tried to tug away but he held her fast. “I have dirt on them,” she said. Still holding her gaze, he stroked her inner wrist with his thumb. “I apologize if I was abrupt this morning.” “It doesn’t matter. Maybe I made too many demands of you too soon. However either we agree to act on the dreams or we don’t. It’s not in me to be a clinging female, but I won’t be your plaything either.” He narrowed his eyes and a look of irritation, or perhaps guilt, flashed across his face. She thought he’d let go of her hand, but instead he continued stroking her, distracting her, making her wish he’d sweep her into his arms and carry her to bed, despite what she’d just told him. “I don’t consider you a plaything and I didn’t mean to make you feel like one.” He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. When he met her gaze again, his expression revealed an inner struggle that struck at her heart, yet she had to remain strong, to let him know that he needed to trust her before she surrendered to him. “Violeta, I’ve been alone most of my life. Until I went into slavery and met Jian, I belonged nowhere.” “Who’s Jian?” “My mentor. The healer and warrior I told you about.” “The man you visited today?” “Yes. After we were freed, Jian and I along with several other slaves, both Horseman and human, settled in Salvation Valley. A few years ago it was an uninhabited section of land. Now it’s a thriving village. Many of the gladiators have families—wives and children. I lived on the outskirts in a nearby forest.” “Of course.” She sighed. “You would. Grigori, I know the villagers are ignorant and cruel and I can’t imagine what you went through in slavery, but you have to give some people a chance.” “That’s easy for you to say. You have no idea what it’s like to be…” He shook his head again. “Violeta, I don’t want to argue.” “All I’m trying to tell you is I’m not like them. You don’t have to stay on the outskirts with me. Even if you don’t want to be my lover, you may still be my friend.”

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His expression took her aback. She swore that for a few seconds his eyes misted over. The hand holding hers tightened a bit and he tugged her so close that her breasts pressed against his chest. Cupping her face he said in a husky voice, “That means more to me than you can ever know, but I couldn’t be simply your friend. Not when I want you this badly.” Violeta’s heartbeat quickened and she resisted the urge to kiss him. The first move had to be his and she tried to tell him this with her eyes. His head dipped toward hers and he covered her mouth in a possessive kiss. Closing her eyes, she slid her arms around his neck and moaned softly. Grigori’s hand splayed against her lower back, holding her so close to him that she felt his cock swelling through his trousers. Need tore through her and her clit tingled and ached. She longed to feel his cock deep inside her. When he guided her onto her back in the grass, she didn’t protest but stared at him with curiosity and lust. He pushed up her dress and raised her knees. Her legs instinctively fell apart. Violeta’s pulse quickened. She wore no underclothes today, leaving her lower half completely exposed to him. A faint smile touched his lips and he stroked her inner thighs, then lightly caressed her soft mound. “You’re so beautiful, Violeta,” he said in a husky voice. “I’m glad you think so.” His spellbinding gaze held hers and he moistened his lips before settling onto his side in the grass and guiding her legs over his shoulders. Another soft moan escaped her and she threaded her fingers through his thick hair. Her heart pounded with anticipation and she gave a little gasp when his moist lips covered her clit. His eyes slipped shut and he teased her with long, slow strokes of his tongue, as if savoring her taste and texture. The grass felt soft and comfortable beneath her and the scent of herbs and flowers filled her with every breath. The most intense sensation of all was the gentle sweeping of Grigori’s warm, wet tongue on her sensitive flesh. His hands slid from her hips to her backside. He caressed the spheres and raised her a bit higher so he could thrust his tongue into her pussy. “Oh Grigori,” she breathed, her back arching and her entire body aflame. His tongue swirled inside her, exploring her slowly. He groaned and his fingers tightened on her bottom. Once again his tongue and lips returned to her clit. He tugged the swollen nub and trailed the very tip of his tongue along one side then the other. When he lapped with rhythmic, upward strokes, passion overtook her and she came, her heart pounding and her entire body throbbing. Wave after wave of pleasure broke over her and though she writhed and bucked, Grigori’s strong hands held her

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steady. His mouth didn’t leave her until she finally descended and lay panting and sated in the grass. After a moment, she became aware of his hands caressing her inner thighs again. Smiling, she opened her eyes and gazed at him. Grigori knelt between her legs, his intense gaze fixed on her. He’d discarded his trousers and his thick cock stood up hard against his flat belly. Violeta wanted to give him the same pleasure he had just given her. She wanted to touch him, kiss and lick him and feel his body heat and tremble when she drove him to the edge. She wanted to feel him climax in her mouth and she wanted to swallow his essence. Moistening her lips, she sat up, climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around him. Grigori held her close and nuzzled her neck. “I want to taste you,” she whispered close to his ear, then licked it and used her teeth to tug the lobe. “May I taste you?”

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Chapter Six Is There a Healer in the House? Violeta’s words and the hungry expression in her eyes sent a rush of desire through Grigori. His cock ached and his head spun at the thought of her taking him between her full lips and lapping him with her warm, wet tongue. A smile tugged at his mouth and he said, “Yes, you may taste me.” As if he’d refuse. Her lashes lowered over her beautiful eyes and she leaned even closer, took his lower lip between her teeth and nibbled it before sweeping her tongue over it. Then she slid off his lap and bent, taking his cock in her hands and guiding the tip to her lips. Grigori drew a deep breath and threaded his fingers through her honey-colored hair while she rolled her tongue over his cock head. While she lapped and sucked, her small, strong hands squeezed and stroked his shaft. Passion swelled within him and Grigori leaned back on his palms, his eyes closed and his hips shifting upward. He made a conscious effort not to thrust hard. The last thing he wanted was to cause her discomfort. Yet with her warm, wet mouth on his cock he could scarcely keep control of his body. Her tongue flicked the underside and Grigori moaned. He reached toward her with one hand and caressed her head. “Violeta, you’d better stop.” She murmured something inaudible, but by her tone he knew it was a refusal. Her tongue flicked relentlessly, driving him closer and closer to ecstasy. Then she sucked him deeply into her mouth and Grigori’s control snapped. His back arched and he gasped and trembled in an intense climax. Violeta didn’t release him, but continued holding his cock, sucking and swallowing his essence until he collapsed onto his elbows, thoroughly sated. Stretching his legs in front of him, he smiled and dropped onto his back. Violeta cuddled beside him, her cheek resting against his chest. Stroking her hair, Grigori said, “I’m sorry about what happened before. I didn’t… If I hurt you…” “It’s all right. I understand, but I hope you understand that nothing anyone can do or say would make me turn away from you. You’re my dream lover and I’ve never felt like this about anyone. I never thought I could feel this way.” “I never imagined something like this could happen to me, that someone like you would enter my life. Violeta, when I left to visit Jian in Salvation Valley, I told him about you.”

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“What did he say?” Grigori’s brow furrowed. “You’re not angry about me telling him, even though I asked you to keep your silence?” “Grigori.” She smiled and shook her head. “Just tell me what he said.” “He told me to respect you enough to let you decide who you want to love.” “I like this man already.” “I want you to meet him and my other friends. The people of Salvation Valley have been more like a family to me than my own was. I want them to know you and you to know them. Will you go there with me?” Violeta lifted her head from his chest and caressed his face. “Of course. When?” “I said I’d return at the end of the week for fighting practice and bring Jian some of my Rock Blood shell salve.” “I’ll be ready.” Grigori held her snugly and kissed her hair. Being with her, knowing they belonged to each other, made him happier than he’d ever been in his life, yet deep inside he feared losing her. According to legend, no striped Horsemen would ever find love. But that’s just a legend. It can be different for me. Violeta and I will make it different.

***** At the end of the week, Violeta and Grigori packed his saddlebags for a day trip. She’d been surprised to learn he’d purchased tack while in Salvation Valley. Knowing he’d probably done so for her sake pleased her. Though eager to meet his friends, she was anxious as well. The people of Salvation Valley were the nearest thing Grigori had to family. Being a solitary man, he must have strong feelings for them to form such close ties. She wanted them to like and accept her, if only for his sake. “Most of the slaves are from the Great Islands of the Far East,” Grigori explained during the flight. Three large islands located in close proximity made up the Great Islands. Some of the world’s best warriors and craftsmen, both human and Horseman, came from there. “I’ve never met anyone from the Great Islands.” “Except for a few customs, they’re not much different than us. Their fighting skills drew the slavers to the Great Islands, though they only managed to abduct a few lone hunters and Gatherers at first. It would have been nearly impossible for them to capture even a small group of warriors from the Great Islands. They took both women and men, hoping they would ‘breed’ as the slavers so crudely put it. Some couples did fall in love. Now they’re married with families in Salvation Valley.” 64

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“I’m glad for them,” she said, placing a hand on his equine shoulder and lightly caressing his striped coat. Sadly Grigori didn’t realize how strikingly beautiful he was. Tall and strong with markings unlike any other Horseman, he should have been admired. Instead he’d been ostracized, made to feel worthless and finally sold into slavery. At least there, among the gladiators and healers, he had discovered his selfworth. She knew other Horsemen who didn’t possess Grigori’s courage, intelligence and beauty, yet paraded around like they were the heavens’ gift to the world, all because of a legend spun ages ago. Violeta caressed the hard muscles of his man back and they rippled beneath her hand. “I love how you touch me,” he said, his voice husky and scarcely audible from the wind. Even on a balmy day like this, the wind was stronger so high in the sky. Using her knees to hold herself steady, she rose in the saddle and spoke close to his ear. “I love touching you, Grigori.” She slid her arms around him and splayed her palms against his broad chest, gripping the solid muscles. Though he had bought a saddle, he hadn’t donned a harness. She greatly preferred holding him instead of lifeless leather. Sitting back in the saddle, she continued stroking him. Her fingers traced his ribs and she caressed his muscular man belly. Her fingers dipped into his navel, then caressed the joining of his human stomach and equine chest. When her hands trailed around to his lower back, he said, “Don’t, Violeta. Touching my Turning Point while we’re in midair is rather dangerous.” She giggled and her hands returned to his shoulders. “You’re right, but later—” “I can hardly wait for later,” he purred and glanced over his shoulder at her. Grigori flew at a slow to moderate pace so they both enjoyed the trip and admired the countryside below. By the time he reached the small Running Way at Salvation Valley, he had only broken a light sweat despite the warm day. As he walked to cool down, Violeta strolled beside him. Glancing at her, he smiled and she returned the gesture, her stomach fluttering. Sometimes the way he looked at her aroused her as much as a kiss. An attractive older Horseman with a dapple-gray coat and long, gray hair trotted toward them. Grigori and Violeta stopped and waited for him. After Grigori introduced her to Jian, his old friend and mentor, the elderly Horseman bowed and she did the same. “I’m glad Grigori brought you today,” he said. “Since he spoke of you during his last visit, I have looked forward to meeting you.” “And I you,” she said. “I brought the new salve,” Grigori said. “It’s in my saddlebag.”

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“Excellent. And I have some experiments to show you in my workshop. But first we should introduce Violeta to the others.” Jian’s friendly yet soft-spoken manner put her at ease and most of her apprehension about how she would be received had already faded. They walked through the small village that consisted of about twenty cottages of stone and wood, several barns, a public well, a blacksmith’s shop, a tailor and a tack maker. Most of the villagers farmed and by the look of their flourishing gardens, the weather hadn’t been as difficult here as back in Oakforest. They finally stopped at a house with a low stone wall surrounding it. A young woman knelt in a flower garden, weeding. In a basket beside her, a baby slept soundly. Upon seeing them, the woman rose with a smile and waved. “Bala, meet Grigori’s lady friend, Violeta,” Jian said. “Perhaps she can stay with you while Grigori joins Ajay and the rest of us for fighting practice?” “Of course,” Bala said and smiled at Violeta, then called, “Ajay! You have visitors.” A tall, black-coated Horseman with glossy black hair and a neatly trimmed beard stepped out of the cottage. He wore a sheathed sword on his back and leather cuffs on his wrists. “Jian, I was just on my way to the training field. Grigori, glad you could make it.” Ajay strode toward them and clasped Grigori’s hand. “You asked where I learned to fight,” Grigori said to Violeta. “This is the Horseman responsible. Ajay is the best swordsman I’ve ever met.” “You haven’t met enough swordsmen, my friend,” Ajay said, though the glimmer in his dark eyes betrayed his appreciation of the compliment. “I’ve met enough and you know it,” Grigori said. “Ajay is a great swordsman,” Jian admitted. “But like all warriors, he must keep his skills sharp, as do the rest of us. Gentlemen, if you’re ready, the sooner we get to the field the sooner we’ll be back to eat midday meal with the ladies.” “Yes and don’t be too late,” Bala said. “Otherwise the food will be either too cold or too dry.” The Horsemen trotted off, promising they’d be back in time. “I don’t believe a word of it,” Bala said, shaking her head. “When Ajay trains, he completely forgets about everything else.” “That’s how Grigori is with his experiments,” Violeta said. “They’re dedicated men. I suppose we can’t complain. Grigori is a great healer and Ajay keeps this village safe. He’s our head guard.” Nearby the baby whined and Bala picked her up. “This is Reena.” “She’s adorable. Is she your only child?” “Yes, our first. Hopefully the first of many. How about you, Violeta? Do you want a big family?”

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“I don’t know,” she said. The thought of having Grigori’s children made her happy, yet she wondered how he felt about it. She knew he worried that his children would inherit his unusual characteristics. Perhaps that was part of the reason he’d hesitated in making their relationship permanent. He had already taken precautions to ensure she wouldn’t conceive. What if he refused to give her children, even after marriage? That wouldn’t stop her from becoming his wife, but it disturbed her that he might try to end his line due to the ignorance of the Oakforest villagers. The people here at Salvation Valley accepted him. If necessary, they could move here to start a family. “I’m sorry,” Bala said. “I hope my question didn’t upset you.” Violeta smiled. “It didn’t. I’m sorry. I just got lost in my thoughts. I would love to have children someday.” “Grigori is a good Horseman. I’m sure you’ll be happy with him.” “I am already.” “As soon as I finish weeding, we can start cooking.” “Let me help,” Violeta said. After they finished in the garden, Bala introduced Violeta to several of her neighbors, then they returned to the cottage and prepared the midday meal. The men returned hot and dirty but not unreasonably late. They bathed in the river that ran behind the village, then everyone settled down to eat. At dusk Grigori and Violeta left for home. The day had cooled so much that Violeta donned her cloak and pressed close to Grigori’s back, grateful for the heat of his powerful Horseman body. “Did you have a nice time with Bala?” he asked. “Yes. Her and Ajay’s daughter is beautiful, isn’t she?” “Yes.” “I wonder if we’ll have a daughter, after we’re married of course.” He tensed and her stomach clenched. Though she didn’t want to have this conversation, she knew they had to. “Don’t you want children? Ever?” she asked. “I know you have concerns—” “Violeta, I’m not the best choice for a breeder.” “You’re strong, intelligent, resourceful—” “Marked.” “First off, your markings are beautiful and unique. Second, your children might not inherit them.” “But if they do, they’ll suffer as I did.” “No they won’t because we’ll love them regardless of what color their coat is or what shape feet they have. We won’t be like your parents.” “Damn right we won’t,” Grigori muttered.

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“People everywhere aren’t as superstitious as those from Oakforest. We could move to Salvation Valley. You have friends there.” “Not everyone in Salvation Valley overlooks my markings.” “Grigori, not everyone likes everyone else. That’s true for us all.” “I know what you’re trying to say, but you can’t pretend I’m a normal Horsemen or that my affliction won’t affect us and our offspring.” “I agree, but after all you’ve been through, after all you’ve overcome, how can you let others dictate whether or not you have a family?” “No one dictates to me.” “Don’t they? You nearly ended our relationship before it began because of what others might say or do. I know you were only trying to protect me, but it was wrong. We’re dream lovers and we belong together. What if one of our children inherits your gift for healing? He could save lives, just like you have. You don’t have only markings to pass on you know.” Grigori snorted with laughter. “One thing I’m learning about you is that when we argue I’m probably going to end up losing most of the time.” “Probably.” He playfully dipped lower in the sky. Violeta gave a little shout and clung to him. “Grigori!” she scolded. He chuckled and said, “Keep holding me like this. I like it.” “So do I.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against his warm, muscular back. Inhaling deeply, she let his clean, musky scent fill her. At this moment, there was nowhere else she’d rather be. When they finally reached the castle, Grigori cooled down while Violeta went to their room and prepared for bed. She unbraided her hair and brushed it, then lit the lantern on Grigori’s bedside table. After undressing, she slipped naked beneath the covers and waited for Grigori to join her. More tired than she realized, she drifted into a light sleep and awoke when he slid into bed and pressed close to her. His arm draped over her waist and he nuzzled her neck. Moaning softly, she smiled and snuggled even nearer. Her bottom wiggled against him and his cock stiffened. “Remember the conversation we had on the flight to Salvation Valley?” he said in a husky voice. “Yes,” she whispered, now fully awake. A smile tugged at her lips and the first stirrings of desire made her clit ache and her belly tighten. “It’s later.” He took her earlobe gently between his teeth and tugged, then trailed his tongue along her neck. “Good.” She turned to meet his gaze. Her breasts pressed against his steely chest.

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Grigori’s hand slid over her hip and reached around to cup her bottom. His mouth covered hers in a passionate yet tender kiss. Moaning again, Violeta closed her eyes and threaded her fingers through his long, thick hair. When the kiss broke, Grigori turned and reached for a mug on his bedside table. Violeta knew it contained the herbal mixture that prevented conception. She didn’t protest, but sipped from the mug and watched as he did the same, then placed it aside. He had made his feelings regarding raising a family clear. She knew that by choosing to stay with him, she might never have children. For the first time she truly understood why he didn’t want to rush her into a permanent relationship. Not that she planned to leave him. She already loved him. Yet knowing he might not want children prompted her to take some time to think about what she wanted in her future and how much he would be willing to compromise. Bracing a hand on either side of her head, Grigori kissed her again. She slid her arms around him and caressed his back, enjoying the kiss though her thoughts lingered on their earlier conversation. “Grigori, would you consider fostering children?” she asked. He paused, looming above her, his mismatched eyes staring into hers. “Violeta, it’s not that I wouldn’t like children. Please understand that.” “I do,” she said, taking his face in her hands. “But there are children with no family who would appreciate a loving home. We could still have a family and you wouldn’t have to worry about—“ “Cloven-hoofed sons?” He sighed. “Yes I’d foster and I’m not saying I’m completely against starting a family of our own. I just… I need time.” “I know.” She kissed him, then smiled. “While you’re considering it, we can still practice.” He grinned. “I love to practice.” This time he kissed her more deeply than before. She opened her mouth to his thrusting tongue and slid a hand between their bodies to clasp his stiff cock. As she stroked, it swelled even more in her grip. Grigori groaned softly and shifted his weight slightly to the side. His hand dipped between her legs and he cupped her soft mound and kneaded gently. At the same time he kissed her upper lip, then sucked her lower lip. Violeta moaned and arched against him. Her pelvis thrust against his stroking hand and she opened her legs farther. His finger eased into her damp pussy and his thumb lightly circled her clit. “I want you inside me,” she whispered, then caught his lower lip between her teeth and nipped it playfully. “Soon,” he said and continued stroking her clit and pussy. His gentle touches aroused her, but with his unhurried pace her excitement built slowly. Even when she thrust quicker, he draped one long, muscular leg over hers to slow her movements. Nuzzling her neck, he said, “Don’t rush tonight, love. I want to savor you.” 69

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“So do I, but part of me doesn’t want to wait,” she breathed, arching her neck as he covered it with kisses. He slid lower and captured one of her nipples between his lips. Over and over his warm, wet tongue flicked the tender bud while his fingertips stroked her clit. “Fast or slow, I want you so much tonight that I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself,” she panted, her heart racing and her entire body tingling. Each sweep of his fingertip over her clit drove her closer to the edge. Grigori rolled fully onto her. Bracing most of his weight on his forearms, he slowly filled her with his cock. Gazing into his eyes, she knew that despite his attempt to prolong their lovemaking, he was every bit as aroused as she was. Wrapping her legs around him, she arched upward as he thrust. Her hands caressed his hair and slid over his shoulders, then down his spine. She clutched his firm buttocks and opened her mouth against the gentle pressure of his lips. Their tongues thrust against each other as he pumped into her. Violeta climaxed fast. Closing her eyes she clung to him. Her spasms drew him deeper into her and he tore his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged. “Violeta. Oh by the sky god,” he gasped, pressing his forehead to hers. “Come for me, Grigori,” she panted. “Oh please don’t hold back.” Her words drove him over the edge and he thrust harder and faster. With a raw cry of pleasure, he came into her still pulsing body. Rolling onto his side, he pulled her close to him and Violeta closed her eyes. Snug in his arms, she sighed with contentment and drifted to sleep.

***** For the second time in just over a week, Grigori awoke to pounding on the castle door. Cursing softly, he rose from bed. Violeta, her eyes wide, jumped up and shrugged on her robe while Grigori pulled on his trousers. He knew better than to tell her to wait for him to return. Violeta would no doubt follow him no matter what he said. In the great hall he ordered her to stand back and she had the good sense to obey. Grigori opened the door, prepared to ward off blows. Bartok, the redheaded Horseman who had joined the attack against him last week, stood outside looking worried. “I’m here in peace,” Bartok said, holding up his hands. “My brother-in-law has been ill for a couple of days and the local healer hasn’t been able to help him. My sister is afraid he’s going to die and truth be told, he looks very bad. I know the last time I was here I caused problems for you, but I hope you won’t hold that against my brotherin-law. We know you’re a healer. Will you come look at him?” 70

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Grigori nodded. “I’ll see him. Let me pack a few supplies first.” “I’ll go with you,” Violeta said. Upstairs they washed and dressed quickly. Grigori loaded his healing supplies into his saddle pack. Violeta mounted him and they returned to the great hall where Bartok waited to guide them to his sister’s house. When they arrived at the cottage on the outskirts of the main village, they found a redheaded woman, Bartok’s sister, seated beside a bed upon which lay a dark-haired Horseman in Huform. Drenched in sweat, he moaned weakly, but lay still except for the labored rise and fall of his chest. “Alexa, Lord de Forest is here to examine Vinci,” Bartok said. She turned to them, her face etched with worry. Her gaze swept over Grigori and for a moment he thought she might protest, but she nodded and moved away from the bed. Grigori examined Vinci, but it didn’t take long for him to realize the situation was serious. Though no Horseman had ever contracted the human Plague, Vinci displayed symptoms of it. Glancing over his shoulder, Grigori said, “Violeta, wait for me outside please.” “But—” “Do what I say!” For the first time since he’d met her, his words seemed to take her aback. “All right,” she said quietly and stepped out of the cottage. “Did he travel anywhere?” Grigori asked. “No,” Alexa replied. “Did he eat anything unusual?” “No. I don’t understand. Two days ago he was fine. Then last night he got a fever and…this morning I couldn’t wake him.” After completing the examination, Grigori treated Vinci with an herbal mixture that he hoped would reduce his fever and ease his discomfort. He also administered Rock Blood. In his semiconscious state, forcing him to drink the remedies proved difficult, but with Bartok’s assistance, Grigori helped Vinci drink. “What’s wrong with him?” Alexa asked. “Our healer has never seen anything like this before, except…except for human Plague.” “I know,” Grigori said. “As far as I know there’s never been a case of a Horseman coming down with the Plague.” “Yet you gave him Rock Blood.” “The symptoms are similar to human Plague. I’m hoping the Rock Blood will help, though as far as I know, other than the salve I’ve been using to treat wounds, Rock Blood has never been used on Horsemen.”

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“What can I do to help him?” Alexa asked. “I can’t just sit here and watch him…” She momentarily closed her eyes and shook her head. “Bathe him with cool water. Try to make him drink. I’m going to leave you herbs and Rock Blood. I’ll tell you how much to give him and how often. Tomorrow I’ll be back. I want to research this a little more, so I need to return to my study.” Grigori glanced at Bartok. “If he gets worse or if you need me tonight, just fly out and let me know.” When Grigori finally stepped out of the cottage, Violeta approached, looking worried. “Why did you ask me to leave?” “Because he’s displaying symptoms of Plague.” “Not that I want to get the Plague, but Rock Blood cures it, right?” “To my knowledge there’s never been a case of a Horseman getting the Plague. I’m not sure if the disease is changing or how it will react. I treated him, but to be honest I don’t know if it will help.” Concern crossed on her face. She placed a hand on his chest. “Grigori, do you think this will spread?” “I’m not sure.” Grigori headed toward the well for a drink and Violeta walked alongside him. Before he had a chance to take a sip, Ivan cantered toward them. “I’ve been looking for you,” Ivan said, his voice practically a growl. His ears were pinned tightly to his head and his eyes flashed. “No.” Grigori glared at him. “Not today. I have too much to worry about—” “I need your help.” Grigori curled his lip. He and Violeta exchanged surprised glances, then he turned back to Ivan. “Excuse me?” Grigori asked. “My brother is deathly ill. He needs a healer and—” “And the local healer hasn’t been able to help,” Violeta said. Again she and Grigori locked gazes and she murmured, “I guess it’s spreading.” “Will you come?” Ivan pressed. “It’s a short flight. They live in Blackrock Village.” Grigori could scarcely believe what he’d just heard or the desperate look on Ivan’s face. “I wouldn’t come to you if it wasn’t urgent. My mother is beside herself.” “Let’s go,” Grigori said, lowering to his equine knees so Violeta could mount easily. “Home?” she asked. “No. We’ll go check on his brother first.” She patted his back before they headed for the Running Way.

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Ivan led the way to his mother’s cottage where they found his brother, a young Horseman of sixteen, in a similar state to Vinci. Grigori treated him in the same way as Bartok’s brother-in-law. Outside the cottage that stood in a village at the foot of a mountain several miles from Oakforest, Ivan questioned Grigori about his brother’s condition. “You think this is some kind of Horseman Plague?” Ivan demanded. “I’m not sure yet, but it could be.” “Hopefully the Rock Blood will work,” Violeta said. “Is there anything I can do?” Ivan asked. “Rubert and my mother are my only family. I’ve taken care of them since my father died twelve years ago. I’ll do anything to help them. I’ll pay whatever price you demand.” Grigori’s brow furrowed. “I’m not demanding anything. I’m a healer. My job is to help people. Even people like you.” Ivan’s lip twitched and his fists clenched. “Just…do whatever it takes to get him well.” “I’ll do what I can. Now I need to get back to my study and prepare more herbs. If my suspicions are correct, we’ll need them.” When they arrived at the castle, Grigori went immediately to his study and worked until late afternoon when Ivan came with news that his brother had gotten worse. Again Grigori flew out to check on him, though he could do little to ease his symptoms. When he returned to the castle, Violeta told him that Bartok had been by again. Other Horsemen in Oakforest had become ill, including the local healer. They decided to move to Violeta’s cottage so Grigori would be closer to his charges. Despite the sick Horsemen, there was no sign of human Plague. The disease spread quickly and by the following day, half the Horsemen in Oakforest were bedridden. Ivan arrived early in the morning with news that his brother still held his own, but others in Blackrock Village had fallen ill. Tired from spending most of the night preparing herbs and treating patients, Grigori sighed and shook his head. “Ivan, I can’t leave the village with so many Horsemen sick, but I need to get a message to Salvation Valley. There’s a Horseman there called Jian. He’s a great healer.” “I’ll take the message if you think he can help us.” “If anyone can, he’s the one,” Grigori said, going to the table upon which rested a variety of herbs, containers and books. He took a slip of parchment and sat to write a quick note to Jian. Ivan stood nearby, studying him carefully. Finally he said, “I know we haven’t gotten along well, but you’ve tried to help my brother and…I thank you.” Grigori didn’t glance up from his writing, though Ivan’s words surprised him. He knew saying them must have been difficult, considering how much they disliked each other. 73

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“I have no issue with your brother. As a former Fighting Carrier, I’m sure you can understand my duties as a healer. Like healers, you gather Rock Blood to help everyone and don’t allow personal disputes to affect your job.” “I became a Fighting Carrier to support my mother and brother after my father died. I’ve never failed to take care of them before.” This time Grigori did look up. “You haven’t failed. This is a disease. We’ll search until we find a way to help these Horsemen.” A quirky smile touched Ivan’s lips. “And pray we don’t fall ill in the meantime?” “It can’t hurt.” Grigori finished his letter, then Ivan flew off to deliver it. After Ivan left, Grigori sat at the table near the window in Violeta’s cottage and pressed his palms to his eyes. Then he dropped his hands and looked around. Despite his fear over this new disease, being in this house comforted him. It carried Violeta’s floral scent. The quaint furniture and the warmth the cottage emanated reminded him of her. At this moment he realized how much she had changed his castle, made it less cold and imposing and lent it some of the charm of this cottage. “Are you all right?” Violeta approached from behind and caressed his shoulders. She slid her arms around his neck and he covered her hands with one of his. “I was thinking about why I like this place. Just being here I can sense the love and acceptance that your family had. De Forest Castle never had that until you came.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, then pushed out his chair and guided her onto his lap. Violeta slid her hand to the back of his head and guided his face to her shoulder. He closed his eyes and enjoyed her nearness for a few moments. “You must be so tired,” she said. “You didn’t even sleep last night.” “More and more Horsemen are getting sick. Right now I’m the only healer between here and Blackrock. Some people won’t even let me examine their family members because of my marks.” “Then it’s their loss,” she said, an angry edge to her voice. “You don’t understand. I need to gather as much information about this disease as I can. It’s the only way we can hope to cure it. So far none of the Horsemen have responded to the Rock Blood.” “Maybe Jian will be able to help.” “I hope so and I hope sending Ivan wasn’t a mistake. He’s shown no signs of the disease, but what if he carries it?” He lifted his head to meet Violeta’s gaze. She caressed his face and said, “We can only hope. Not only that, we have no way of knowing if the disease hasn’t already affected Horsemen in Salvation Valley.” “We were just there a day ago.” “Yes but a day ago most of the Horsemen in Oakforest were healthy. Now—”

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“A point well taken. I need to get back to work.” “You should get some sleep while you can.” He shook his head. “We’re almost out of the herbal treatments.” “I’ll help you.” Grigori nodded. He had shown her how to mix ingredients and she had already assisted him greatly. He hoped Jian would have information to offer, otherwise Grigori didn’t know where this Horsemen Plague would take them.

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Chapter Seven Darkest Days The following morning, Grigori went on rounds of the village while Violeta stayed at the cottage, preparing more herbs. Though she tried to keep her fear under control, she couldn’t help worrying, not for herself but for Grigori. No humans had come down with the disease, but it seemed every hour more Horsemen sickened. Being the only healer in the village now that the regular one had fallen ill, Grigori constantly exposed himself to the disease. Violeta prayed he wouldn’t succumb to it. He returned around midday, looking pale, tired and more concerned than before he’d gone. The previous night he’d scarcely slept. He’d spent hours poring over his healing books and scrolls. Shortly before midnight, one of his royal guards had flown from the training camp across the forest. The Horseman Plague had affected the warrior family as well, including their healer. Grigori had flown to the settlement to assist his family’s loyal warriors and returned shortly before dawn. He’d managed to catch a few hours of restless sleep. “Two Horsemen died today,” he said, approaching Violeta who stood at the table, measuring dried herbs into containers. She placed her work aside and turned to him. He continued, “One was just thirteen years old.” “You should get some rest,” she said. “You’ve scarcely slept in two nights.” He shook his head. “There’s too much to do.” “You’ll be no help to anyone if you get sick too.” “With this disease, I don’t think anything will prevent it. The Horsemen aren’t responding to the Rock Blood treatment. The symptoms are similar to human Plague, but something about our bodies rejects the Rock Blood.” He closed his eyes for a moment and clenched his fists. “Damn. I wish Ivan would return. Maybe Jian can help.” “You don’t suppose he’s come down with the disease too?” “Ivan or Jian?” “Either one.” “I don’t know. If he doesn’t return by tomorrow I’m going to fly to Salvation Valley myself or better yet send a human messenger. If they haven’t been affected by the disease, then we shouldn’t expose them. I was so damn stupid to send Ivan instead of a human. What the hell was I thinking?” “You need to stop blaming yourself for everything.” “It was an inexcusable mistake.”

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“Whip yourself later. Right now I need to deliver these herbs and you need to get some sleep.” Someone pounded on the door and Violeta opened it to find Elisabetta and Fredek standing outside, looking frantic. “We flew to the castle, but you weren’t there. At the tavern they told us you’ve been staying here due to the illness,” Elisabetta said. “It’s all over our village too. We came because we needed a healer since ours is ill, but obviously you’ve got your hands full here.” “Come in,” Violeta said, stepping aside so they could enter. “What’s causing it?” Fredek asked Grigori. “I don’t know.” “How are you treating it?” “I’ve tried Rock Blood, but it doesn’t work. Right now we’re just trying to keep their fevers down and make them drink.” “Most of the Horsemen in our village are unconscious or delirious,” Elisabetta said. Grigori scrubbed a hand over his perspiring forehead and Violeta’s stomach clenched. “Are you sick?” she demanded and reached up to touch his face, but he gently grasped her wrists. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He glanced at Elisabetta and Fredek. “I’ll give you recipes for the herbal mixtures I’ve been using and directions on how to administer them. If I find better remedies, I’ll send a messenger.” Elisabetta nodded. “If we have any news, we’ll let you know as well.” Once they’d gone, Violeta turned her full attention back to Grigori. She didn’t like how he looked. “I’m not asking you to get some rest, I’m telling you,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. A strained smile tugged at his lips. “So now the housekeeper is giving her master orders.” She curled her lip. “This isn’t your housekeeper speaking. It’s your dream lover and she has no master, unless you want to consider yourself the master of my heart. Either way, I—” Again pounding on the door interrupted them. “What now?” Violeta muttered, but before she could open it, the door burst open. Two local Horsemen and the tavern keeper’s wife stormed inside. She rushed at Grigori and would have struck him if Violeta hadn’t stepped between them and shoved the woman hard. “Marca, what in heaven’s name is wrong with you?” Violeta shouted. “My husband is dead!” she screamed, tears springing into her eyes. 77

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Violeta’s initial anger at the woman faded, replaced by understanding and sorrow. Marca and the tavern keeper had always been kind to her and she mourned his loss. “I’m so sorry,” Violeta said. “You should be,” the woman said softly. “Violeta, I know you didn’t mean any harm, but by consorting with this…creature you’re as guilty as he is.” “He hasn’t done anything but try to help you,” Violeta said. “The tavern keeper isn’t the only one,” said one of the Horsemen who’d arrived with her. “Two others have died within the hour.” “We never had a disease like this before you returned.” Marca pointed at Grigori. “You’ve cursed us!” “We want you out of this village,” said the other chestnut Horseman. Rage and a hint of fear coiled within Violeta as she looked at Marca and the two Horsemen. Movement in the doorway caught her attention and she noticed other angry villagers gathering outside the cottage. “Grigori, we should go,” Violeta said quietly. She glanced at him and he nodded. She glared at Marca and the Horsemen and said, “Get out of my house.” Marca spat at Grigori before she and the others left. Slamming the door after their unwanted guests, Violeta cursed under her breath. She and Grigori quickly packed his supplies, then he shifted to his beast-half and they left for the castle. As soon as she mounted, Violeta knew something was dreadfully wrong. Heat emanated from his body and every few moments he trembled. “You’re sick, aren’t you?” she whispered. “I’ll be fine. I just want to get home.” She didn’t speak again during the short flight to the castle. By the time they arrived, Grigori was so wobbly that he nearly stumbled to his knees upon landing. Panic almost overtook Violeta, but she managed to control it as she unbuckled his saddle and placed it aside in the great hall. She ordered him upstairs and he didn’t protest. Violeta doubted she’d ever been this frightened in her life. Her dream lover was ill with an incurable disease and they were completely alone in the castle. She unloaded his healing supplies and made her way up the wide stone ramp to the second floor. Halfway there, she heard a loud crash. Gasping, she ran to the study and found Grigori, still in his beast form, lying on the floor. She dropped the supplies on the table and knelt beside him. “Grigori,” she said, touching his face to find him burning with fever. “Oh gods.” With no way to move him, she got a pillow and sheet from his bedroom and made him as comfortable as she could on the floor. Her hands trembling, she measured the herbs, mixed them with water and tried to force him to drink, difficult in his semiconscious state. Once she’d managed to get the herbs into him, she bathed him with cool water.

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She didn’t know how many hours passed, but as dusk fell, she lit a lantern and mixed more herbs. Before she could administer them, she heard pounding on the door. “No!” she snapped, her fists clenched. “No more!” This time she’d kill anyone who spoke or acted against Grigori. She picked up an iron poker resting in the stand by the hearth and made her way to the great hall. By the time she arrived, several villagers, two Horsemen and five humans, had broken down the door and entered the great hall carrying swords and hatchets. One had a pitchfork. “What in the name of the gods are you doing?” Violeta shouted. “We have to kill him. It’s the only way to end the disease,” bellowed Gregor, a human farmer from the village. “You’re all mad!” Violeta raised the poker as if to strike. “Get out of here! Now!” “Where is he?” shouted a dark-brown Horseman carrying a short, curved sword. He pushed his way through the group and faced Violeta. “Bring us to him. We don’t want to hurt you, but he has to go.” “He is going,” Violeta screamed, tears in her eyes. “He has the disease, you vicious, ignorant bastards! You wouldn’t let him live in peace at least let him die in peace!” The small group fell silent, then Gregor said, “I don’t believe you. You’re trying to protect him. We’ll search this castle until we find—” “What the hell is going on here?” Ivan growled, striding into the great hall, his sable beast-coat and shirtless human half gleaming with sweat. He looked as if he’d come from a long, fast flight. “Grigori de Forest brought the disease. He’s cursed us and the only way to save ourselves is to destroy him,” said Gregor. Ivan curled his lip. “It might interest you to know that this disease has been ravaging the rest of the world for weeks. It has nothing to do with de Forest. It started somewhere in the tropics and has been spreading fast. I’ve been to the Hall of Fighting Carriers. Most of their warriors are down along with more than half the Horsemen in the world.” “The tropics?” demanded the brown-coated Horsemen. “How did it spread here? No one in Oakforest has been to the tropics lately.” “No but a messenger from Blackrock Village has been. He also carried a message here a couple of days ago, then to Salvation Valley and a few other villages in the area. They’re all suffering from the disease. If you want to help our Horsemen brothers, then go back to the village and keep up the treatments Grigori suggested. Until a cure is found, that’s all we can do. Also any Horseman exposed to the disease will develop symptoms within three days. After the three days, if you don’t come down with it, that means you’re immune. Thankfully some of us are.” The villagers muttered amongst themselves but reluctantly lowered their weapons. “What are you waiting for?” Ivan demanded, his eyes blazing. “Get out of here.” 79

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They left the castle and Ivan picked up the broken door. “I’ll fix this for you later,” he said and turned to Violeta. “Where’s Grigori?” “Upstairs. He’s on the floor in his study. He’s very sick and I can’t move him.” Ivan headed toward the stone ramp. “I’ll help you, then I need to get back to my mother’s house.” “How’s your brother?” Violeta asked. “Still holding on. How are you?” A quirky smile touched her lips. “I never thought you’d be here to offer help.” “De Forest helped me when I asked for it. The gods know I gave him enough reason not to.” In the study, Grigori’s eyes opened halfway when Violeta touched his face. “You need to shift to Huform,” she said. “Can you do that?” Grigori’s bleary gaze shifted from her to Ivan. Seeing his old enemy, he tensed and tried to sit up. “He’s here to help,” Violeta said. Grigori relaxed a bit and murmured, “Jian?” “He couldn’t help,” Ivan said. “You need to shift shape so I can get you to the bedroom.” “Don’t need your help,” Grigori murmured. Ivan sneered. “Now you’re starting to sound like me.” It took Grigori several painful moments to summon the strength to shift to Huform. The change left him so weak that he lapsed into unconsciousness. Ivan lifted him and carried him to his bedroom. “Violeta, I need to get back to my brother,” Ivan said. “Will you be all right?” “I don’t have a choice.” “I’ll be back when I can.” She nodded and walked with him to the bedroom door. “Thank you, Ivan.” He turned to her, nodded curtly and left the castle.

***** For five days, Grigori hovered between life and death. Unable to eat and scarcely able to drink, he either lay deathly still or tossed and turned in delirium. Feeling completely helpless, Violeta could only bathe him with cool water, administer herbs that didn’t seem to help and pray.

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The villagers stayed away entirely. They’d come to Grigori when they’d needed him, but now that he suffered the same illness that threatened to destroy them, they left him to die in his mountain home. On the third morning, Violeta sat beside him and took his hand. “Grigori,” she said. He moaned softly and opened his eyes halfway. She stifled a sob when she saw the hollowness in them. The dark smudges beneath contrasted sharply with his deathly pale face. “I need to get more water,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” He didn’t respond, so she reluctantly stood and walked to the door, a basin in her hand. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she swallowed past the lump in her throat. Surely he couldn’t survive much longer like this. Violeta made her way slowly to the well in the courtyard outside the kitchen. Before hauling up the water, she stood for a moment, closing her eyes and letting the sunlight warm her face. She’d scarcely slept, except for an hour or two beside Grigori, and she felt completely exhausted. Yet she feared that if she slept, he might pass without her knowing and that pained her more than lack of sleep. After retrieving the water, she returned to Grigori’s room and momentarily panicked upon finding an empty bed. Placing the basin on the night table, she hurried out of the room. “Grigori! Grigori, where are you?” She ran to the first place she thought he’d go. Entering the study, she found him once again lying on the floor, an empty container beside him. “Oh gods!” She dropped to her knees and touched his shoulder, then picked up the container. She sobbed. In his delirium and thirst, he’d swallowed the Rock Blood shell salve. Would it poison him? She tugged his head onto her lap and caressed his face. “Grigori?” He didn’t move and scarcely seemed to breathe. Violeta didn’t know how much time passed before she realized his body started to cool. The fever had subsided and he slept comfortably, his breathing relaxed and even. A few hours later, he stirred and gazed at her with clear, fathomless eyes. “Violeta,” he whispered, reaching up to touch her face. She took his hand and kissed his palm, unable to keep tears from spilling. “Don’t cry,” he said, then glanced around. His brow furrowed. “Why are we on the floor?” “Grigori,” she said, embracing him tightly. A realization struck her and she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “I think you discovered the cure for the Horseman Plague.”

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“I did?” “I think it’s the Rock Blood shells.” She reached for the container and held it in front of him. “You drank this.” “If that’s true, then we need to send word to the village.” “We need to send word to the world. The disease is everywhere. Ivan returned a couple of days ago with news from the Hall of Fighting Carriers.” “Days?” he whispered and shook his head. “The last thing I recall is leaving Oakforest.” “Come on. Let’s get you to bed and I’ll explain.” She slid an arm around him and helped him rise. Still weak from his illness, he leaned on her heavily but she didn’t mind. She welcomed his weight and warmth against her. After so many days living with the fear of losing him, she had hope again, and due to his experimentation with Rock Blood shells, so did the rest of the world. By the time they reached his room, both were breathing heavily. Grigori collapsed onto the bed and Violeta lay beside him for a moment, then helped him to a more comfortable position. She drew the covers around him and explained about the Rock Blood shell salve. “Violeta, bring me the journal on my table in the study, the one in which I’ve been making notes.” “You need to rest.” “It’s important. The recipe for the salve is in there. We need to distribute it right away.” She couldn’t argue. After seeing to his comfort, she retrieved the book and placed it on his lap. He weakly turned the pages, even that slight effort almost too much for him. Finally he sighed and pointed to instructions written in his bold hand. “This is it,” he murmured. “Copy it. Get it to the people.” “Grigori, I can’t leave you alone. You can hardly move. What if—” “You have to,” he said, gently squeezing her hand. “Horsemen are dying. Violeta, it’s up to you.” She nodded and kissed his cheek. “All right. I’ll do it.” He fell asleep before she slid the book from his hands. Violeta wrote out five copies of the recipe, then sat by Grigori for a few moments, not wanting to leave him in this weakened state but knowing she must get the cure to the village immediately. What if the villagers returned again to kill him? Completely alone, with no one to protect him, he’d be at their mercy. She wondered why he adamantly wanted to help them when most of them treated him so viciously. But not all.

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His friends in Salvation Valley needed the cure as well as the Horsemen of Oakforest and the warrior family who served the de Forest line. Violeta reluctantly left the castle and made the two-hour journey on foot to the village. When she got there, the people she passed looked at her with fear and disgust. Bartok’s was the first friendly face she saw and she immediately told him about the cure. He called together the humans and few Horsemen who weren’t bedridden. Some refused to accept the recipe, believing it was yet another curse from Grigori. “Do what you want,” Violeta said, not bothering to disguise her contempt. “Horsemen are dying anyway. This will most likely save their lives. I delivered the cure but I can’t force you to take it.” “Thank you for this,” Bartok said. “I’ll bring it to my brother-in-law right away.” “Bartok, I have to get copies of this to my sister’s village as well as Salvation Valley, Blackrock Village and the training camp of the de Forest warriors.” “I’ll fly you,” he said. After seeing that Bartok’s brother-in-law got the cure, they left for Blackrock Village where Ivan kept vigil at his brother’s bedside. He promised to make a copy of the recipe and fly it to the Hall of Fighting Carriers. Next they flew to Elisabetta and Fredek’s village, then to the de Forest guards’ training camp and after that Salvation Valley. “Thank you,” Jian said, bowing from the neck as he took the slip of parchment from Violeta. He’d shaved off his hair, except for a strip running down the middle of his head. On the way to his cottage, she’d seen other Horsemen as well as human males with the same hairstyle. “Send our thanks to Grigori. We’ve already lost five Horsemen and more than half of our people are sick. I pray we’ve received it in time to save them.” “I hope so,” she said. Her gaze again drifted to his head. A faint, sad smile touched his lips and he said, “In the Great Islands, where many of us in Salvation Valley come from, it’s a symbol of mourning for men to shave their heads like this.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare—” “Me either,” Bartok admitted. “No offense taken,” Jian told them. “It’s not meant to be ignored. I’ll see that copies of the cure are made and distributed. Your friend Ivan is flying north to the Hall of Fighting Carriers, so I’ll send messages to the Great Islands.” Violeta and Bartok left Jian’s cottage and were about to head for the Running Way when she noticed Bala standing in the graveyard on the edge of the village. “I’ll just be a moment,” she said to Bartok and headed toward the graveyard. “Bala,” she said, resting a hand on the woman’s arm. Startled, Bala turned to her. She looked pale and haggard, her face streaked with tears. In her arms Reena whined and Bala rocked her. 83

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A sick feeling swept over Violeta and she asked, “Are you… Is it…” “Ajay died two days ago,” Bala said. Violeta felt on the verge of tears as well. They’d been such a happy family. “I’m so sorry,” Violeta said. “Is there anything I can do for you and Reena?” Shaking her head, Bala momentarily closed her eyes. When she opened them, a sad smile tugged at her lips. “Our friends here have been very helpful. We’ll be all right. How is Grigori?” Violeta felt almost guilty bringing news of the cure to this woman whose life had been irrevocably changed due to the Horseman Plague. “He’s recovering,” she said softly. “There’s…a cure.” Bala closed her eyes again and cursed softly. Choking back a sob, she held Reena a bit tighter. “I should be glad,” Bala whispered. “I am glad but at the same time—” “I don’t blame you. I’d feel the same way.” Violeta once again placed a hand on Bala’s shoulder. “Give my love to Grigori,” Bala said, holding Violeta’s gaze. “Be happy with him. Don’t waste a moment of your time together.” “I won’t.” On the flight back to the castle, Violeta dreaded bringing news of Ajay’s death to Grigori. The two had been so close. When she arrived, Grigori was still deeply asleep without sign of fever. She kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed beside him. Since he’d become ill, she’d scarcely rested. Almost immediately she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

***** The next day, Violeta stepped into Grigori’s room with the morning meal. He’d moved from the bed to a chair by the window. Though still weak, he looked better than he had in days. “What’s the news from yesterday?” he asked. “Bartok’s brother-in-law and Ivan’s brother?” “They were still hanging on, so I think we got the cure to them in time as well as for most of the Horsemen in Salvation Valley.” “Most?” He drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “Who’s dead?” “Grigori, why don’t you—” “Tell me.” She gave him the names of the deceased former gladiators. With each one, she saw sadness flash across his eyes. Kneeling in front of him, she took his hand and said, “And Ajay.”

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His eyes closed and he swallowed visibly. Shaking his head, he whispered, “Not him.” “I’m so sorry.” His burning gaze met hers. “Bala and the baby?” “They’re…I think they’ll be all right. It must be so hard for her right now.” “I can’t imagine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people more in love. I never imagined something like that happening to me. Now that I have you… Bala isn’t all right, Violeta. She’ll never get over this.” “I know,” she whispered. “She’ll learn to accept it. Maybe she’ll even marry again, but he’ll always be with her. Always. Just as he’ll always be with you.” Grigori cupped her face and said, “I love you, Violeta.” “I love you too.” She rose to embrace him and he gently tugged her onto his lap. His head rested against her shoulder and she caressed his hair. “Bala was right.” “About what?” “She told me not to waste a moment of our time together.” He lifted his head and again held her gaze. Violeta caressed his sharp cheekbones and brushed his mouth with a kiss. “She’s right,” he said. “No matter how much time we have, it’s never enough.”

***** Word of the cure spread quickly. Though the Horsemen Plague had taken down many Fighting Carriers, they formed the first Fighting Carrier Crisis Troop made up of civilian volunteers. Former Fighting Carriers like Ivan were particularly coveted by the crisis troop. Their main duty was to gather Rock Blood shells for the cure. Since healers generally discarded the shells, most settlements had little to work with and needed fresh supplies immediately. A week after Grigori discovered the cure, Ivan stopped by the castle before flying to the tropics to join his Gathering Party. “Off to save the world again,” he said. “I guess once a Fighting Carrier always a Fighting Carrier.” “Save the world?” Violeta said, folding her arms across her chest and raising an eyebrow. “Well, helping to. I suppose most of the credit goes to you, Lord de Forest.” Ivan held Grigori’s gaze. Though still weak, Grigori sat in his study, making notes despite Violeta’s scolding. “When I return from the tropics, I’m going to stay with my mother and brother for a few months. The boy needs to recover and someone has to run the farm in the meantime.” Ivan drew a deep breath. “I’ve never apologized for anything in my life.” “Maybe it’s time to start,” Violeta muttered. 85

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Ivan glanced at her, then turned back to Grigori and continued, “But I wasn’t fair with you. Many of the villagers haven’t been fair. They’re a superstitious lot and I don’t think finding a cure will change their minds about you, but they’re wrong.” “Why the change of heart?” Grigori asked, studying his old enemy warily. “I’m not going to try to justify myself, but let’s just say that almost losing my brother made me think. I’ve come a long way from the farm boy I used to be. I was a Fighting Carrier. Now I have a successful messenger service and I’ve never had a shortage of female admirers, but there’s still something… I guess it wasn’t enough. When you came back here after all these years, surviving slavery, facing down people who hated you, getting the attention of the one girl in town who wouldn’t give me a second glance…” He looked at Violeta and shrugged almost sheepishly. “I guess I was jealous.” “Jealous of me?” Grigori curled his lip. “Well that’s new.” “You have a lot of courage. I let pride—” “Conceit,” Violeta murmured. “All right, conceit,” Ivan admitted. “Interfere with justice. That’s not the Fighting Carrier way.” “You almost sound like you’re going to reenlist,” Grigori said. “I’m thinking about it,” Ivan admitted. “Good luck to you,” Grigori said. “You too.” Ivan extended his hand to Grigori who hesitated for a moment, then shook it. Ivan turned to Violeta. “Goodbye and thank you.” “For what?” “Turning me down.” She laughed. “Should I take that as a compliment?” “Most definitely.” After Ivan left, Grigori tugged Violeta onto his lap and asked, “Why did you turn him down? He’s handsome enough.” “And a conceited fool, or at least he was. Maybe he’s changing.” “Sometimes we all lose our way. As long as we find it again, that’s what counts.”

***** Even with his powerful Horseman physique, it took nearly two weeks more before Grigori recovered enough to fly again. Two weeks after that he was able to travel a moderate distance with a passenger. The first trip he and Violeta took was to Salvation Valley.

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There, Grigori shaved in mourning, leaving only a strip of white hair down the center of his head. According to tradition, he must keep that fashion for six months. He and Violeta visited the graves of Ajay and the other Horsemen and then ate dinner with Jian and Bala, who now earned her living as a seamstress. On the flight home, Violeta said, “She’s a strong woman.” “Yes she is. So are you.” “If you died, I don’t know if I could hold up as well as she has.” “She has her daughter to think of and part of Ajay still lives through her.” “I know. He gave her a priceless gift.” Grigori fell silent. No doubt that was Violeta’s way of reminding him that he still withheld such a gift from her. “Do you want to stop at Oakforest? I’d like to check my cottage. I haven’t been there since before you got sick.” At the village, people glanced at them and whispered as they passed through town. It seemed Grigori finding a cure hadn’t changed their attitudes or wiped out their superstitions. When they reached the cottage, Violeta murmured, “By the gods, what have they done?” The windows had been broken, the gardens torn up and the cottage splattered with tar. A symbol of evil, drawn in chicken blood, marred the wooden door. “This is why I don’t want children,” Grigori said, his voice rough. “And this is why I want you to think before you decide to spend your life with me.” Violeta slid off his back and headed for the cottage, but Grigori gently grasped her arm. “Wait here,” he ordered and strode in first to search the place. Finding it empty, he motioned for her to enter. She glanced around at the broken glass, pottery and clumps of dirt on the floor and furniture. Her fists clenched and Grigori could almost feel the rage rolling off her in waves. She stomped outside and shouted, “Who did this?” People standing nearby paused and glanced at her. “What in the name of the gods is wrong with you people?” she screamed. Alexa, who stood by the public well, approached her. “Do you know who did this?” Violeta demanded. “No,” Alexa said. “But it wasn’t me and it wasn’t Vinci. Some of us are grateful to Lord de Forest for finding the cure for the Horseman Plague, but others… It’s a small village. You know what it’s like, Violeta. You’ve lived here all your life.” “There’s no excuse for this, Alexa.”

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“I know,” she said quietly. “If it’s any consolation, this was done before he found the cure.” “Consolation?” Violeta raged. “How would you feel if it were your home?” “Your home is the castle,” Grigori said. She turned to him, her face tense with anger. “You know what I mean, Grigori.” “I know.” “Even after all you’ve done for these people, it’s still not enough.” “I’m sorry about your cottage, Violeta,” Alexa said. “So am I,” she said. “Grigori, take me home.” He gave her an arm up. Even with the barrier of the saddle, he felt the tension in her. He had saved these people with his cure. Now he could just as easily destroy them for what they’d done to her. “I’m sorry, Violeta,” he said. “It’s not your fault.” “I’ll summon the de Forest guards and have them drive the villagers off my land.” “No, Grigori. There are still good people in the village. Bartok and his family. We can’t punish everyone because of the actions of a few.” “Maybe we should. I’ve been tolerant enough with these people. I’ve given them additional time to pay their rent and I’ve done my best to act as a healer for them. As I said before, I don’t care what they do or say to me but I will not let them hurt you.”

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Chapter Eight A Curse So Terrible Violeta’s anger toward the villagers faded a bit as another emotion overtook her— worry about how this new affront would affect Grigori. She felt the tension in him and it concerned her. He flew faster and she clung to him as his legs churned and his powerful wings beat. Pressing her cheek to his warm back, she felt his heart pounding as much from rage as from exertion. “Grigori, it’s not like I was inside the house when they—” “That’s not the point! And don’t think for a moment if you had been there it would have stopped them. The gods know what they would have done to you, to both of us.” His words rekindled her anger and also her fear. Maybe he was right about summoning his guards back. Superstitious or not, they had never tried to distance themselves from him. Their banishment to their training camp had been Grigori’s choice, not theirs. Dusk fell as they arrived at the castle. Instead of dismounting right away when he landed, she remained astride him, hugging his waist, her cheek pressed against his back. Slowly she slid her hand up his ribs, feeling the roughness of old scars that once again reminded her of his past. No wonder his anger matched, perhaps even surpassed, her own. Each new display of violence and ignorance must raise old hatred and fear in him. It brought forth such feelings in her as well. “Are you all right?” he asked, taking her hand. “Yes,” she replied but didn’t dismount. He carried her into the castle and up to his bedroom where she finally slid off his back and stood in front of him. She rested her hands on his chest and he covered them with his. Their gazes locked, she whispered, “Make love to me. Please.” With him she felt safe. Together they could forget about what had happened in the village, if for a short time. In the morning, they could face their problems, but tonight they would comfort and pleasure each other and forget about the villagers. He bent and kissed her, then they removed his tack and he placed it aside while Violeta quickly undressed. Closing his eyes, Grigori concentrated on his Turning Point. She watched as he shifted to Huform in a lightning fast swirl of equine hair to human flesh. The floor shook from the energy he expelled. Four legs changed to two and he stood before her,

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breathing deeply and recovering from the momentary weakness that always followed shapeshifting. Then he stepped toward her and took her hands. Their fingers entwined and he tugged her closer. His mouth covered hers in a fiery kiss. She parted her lips to his probing tongue and hers met it with wet, lingering strokes. Grigori released her hand to caress her backside. His finger dipped between the indentation and brushed her sphincter. Moaning softly, Violeta arched against him. Her clit ached and she longed to feel him inside her. At the same time she wanted to feel him all over. She caressed his lean, hard body, kneading his shoulders and stroking his powerful back. “I love touching you,” she whispered. “You’re so strong and you make me feel safe.” Their gazes locked and he caressed her face. “I’ll always keep you safe, Violeta. I swear it. You mean more to me than my own life.” “I love you, Grigori.” “I love you too.” He kissed her again and swept her into his arms. Their mouths still locked, he placed her gently on the bed and rolled her onto her stomach. He brushed her hair aside and pressed tender kisses to the back of her neck. Murmuring endearments that made her stomach clench and her heart soar, he covered her with kisses from shoulders to buttocks, then he gently parted the spheres and teased her sphincter with his tongue. Violeta gasped and her face heated. Part of her wanted to make him stop. Surely his tongue on her ass couldn’t be right, yet how could something that felt so good be wrong? With a lustful groan, he continued teasing her with his tongue while at the same time sliding a hand beneath her to caress her soft mound. His fingers slid into her damp pussy, then he withdrew them and fondled her clit. “Oh Grigori,” she breathed, squirming helplessly as desire built. He teased her to the edge, then paused, his palm covering her clit and his tongue pressed against her sphincter. Violeta gasped, trembling from head to toe. “Please,” she whispered. “Take me. Fuck me, Grigori. I need to feel you inside me.” “Violeta,” he murmured and continued stroking and licking her until she came, her body trembling and her heart pounding. While she recovered, he left the bed and returned moments later with the mug of herbs. Lifting her head, she stared at it, once again reminded that even here at the castle, the villagers weren’t far from them. Still she swallowed the mixture and placed the mug aside. She gasped when Grigori rolled her onto her stomach again, nuzzling her neck and kissing her cheek. She caught the scent of mint on his breath and uttered a pleasured moan. 90

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Grigori covered her body with his. She reached up to clutch the headboard and his hands tightened on her wrists while at the same time his big, hard cock filled her pussy from behind. Violeta gasped and jerked back as he pumped into her over and over. He slid a hand beneath her and fondled her clit as he thrust. Again she hovered on the edge but this time he didn’t stop until she toppled over. Panting and thrashing beneath his big, warm body, she came hard. Somewhere beneath the crashing waves of passion, she felt him come too, her name a hoarse cry on his lips.

***** Smiling, Violeta opened her eyes, then squinted against the sunlight pouring in through the nearby window. Grigori sat at the table in his chamber. To her surprise, he had prepared the morning meal and set it out for her. Despite the issues from the previous day, she’d slept well. Making love with Grigori and falling asleep beside him made her realize it didn’t matter what the villagers did or said. Together, they could face anything and anyone. “What time did you get up?” she asked, raising herself on her elbows. “I haven’t been to sleep yet.” Her good mood faded at the strained look on his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “I’m flying you to your sister’s today.” “Excuse me?” “Violeta, I thought it could work for us, but I was wrong. I won’t risk your safety.” Her stomach clenched and her heart pounded. Overcome first by panic, then rage, she flung the covers aside and rose from bed. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “I thought we had agreed—” “We did, but I need time to think. Just because I want you doesn’t mean I have the right to put you in danger. My needs aren’t as important as your life.” “You said it, Grigori. My life. It’s my choice.” “It’s also mine.” He approached and tried to touch her face but she jerked away and walked to the window. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she stared outside without truly observing the clear, beautiful day. Her head reeled. This couldn’t be happening, could it? After all they’d been through, he wanted to discard her? “Violeta, please try to understand.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and she stiffened. He whispered in her ear, “I love you.” Tears sprang into her eyes, but she blinked them back and jerked away. Facing him, she said, “You don’t know what love is.”

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“Maybe you’re right, but I know what it isn’t. Love isn’t putting you in danger because I want you in my bed.” She snorted with humorless laughter. “This keeps getting better, Grigori. So all you ever wanted me for was a bedmate? You’ve grown tired of me, so you’re sending me off to my sister?” “You’re deliberately twisting my words.” “I don’t need to be sent to my sister like a child who can’t take care of herself.” “You can’t return to the village.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, then opened them to glare at him. “You don’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do.” “I won’t leave you to the villagers, not after—” “Not after you dishonored me? It doesn’t matter, Grigori. There’s no chance there’ll be a child. You saw to that.” “And after what those bastards did to your cottage, I’m glad I did!” he shouted. “What is wrong with you, Violeta? Can’t you see they’ll never leave us in peace?” “Then we’ll go somewhere else!” “Location won’t change what I am. You know the story. No striped Horseman has ever mated.” She stared at him, aghast. “I don’t believe this. You’re as superstitious as the rest of this village. No I don’t believe that. You’re an educated man. This isn’t about superstition. It’s about you and your past. It will never be over for you, Grigori. Your friends in Salvation Valley tried to help you, I tried to help you but it’s too late for you.” He stared at her with the same coolness in his eyes as when they’d first met. “I’m taking you to your sister,” he said. “That’s fine. I’ll go. I’ve had enough of this village and more than enough of you.” “Do you want to eat first?” “No I don’t want to eat! Just leave me alone to wash, dress and pack.” Their gazes locked and for a moment the coldness vanished from his eyes, replaced by the intensity she had grown to love. Then he turned away. Pausing in the doorway, his back to her, he said in a husky voice, “I’ll meet you in the great hall.” Violeta picked up a crystal goblet from the table and flung it at the wall near the door. He didn’t so much as flinch as it shattered, but strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Once he’d gone, Violeta nearly gave in to tears again, but controlled herself. Trembling, she washed in the basin of water on the bedside table, then dressed and packed her few belongings. She cursed the day she had decided to seek a job in this castle. Not that it truly mattered. She and Grigori were dream lovers, bound by something stronger than lust. 92

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She wondered how she could endure a lifetime apart from him. Of course he’d spent his life suffering one torment or another. What was one more? He couldn’t seem to tolerate a life without pain. In the great hall, Grigori stood, saddled and waiting. He tried speaking to her but she didn’t reply. They flew to her sister’s house in silence. When they arrived, Fredek, wearing his beast-half, was chopping wood behind the cottage. He approached and Elisabetta stepped outside. When they heard what happened in Oakforest, Elisabetta said, “I’m glad you came to us. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want to. Fredek?” “Of course she can,” he said. “It will only be until I can find more work.” “Violeta, I just need some time to think,” Grigori said. “I want to work this out, but I don’t think you’re safe in Oakforest at the moment.” “There’s nothing to work out, Grigori,” she said, holding his gaze. This time no tears threatened. “I love you, but I need someone I can trust.” His brow furrowed and anger flashed across his mismatched eyes. “You can trust me.” “Not to share a future together. We’ve had this discussion too many times. It’s over between us.” “Violeta—” “You’ve placed me securely into the hands of my family,” she said coolly. “Supposedly your main concern is my safety. Well I’m safe, so you’re free and I never want to set eyes on you again.” He held her gaze for a long moment and she nearly relented. Then he nodded, turned and cantered off. Seconds later he ascended, but Violeta didn’t watch until he disappeared in the distance. Instead she followed Elisabetta into the cottage where she sat at the table, her vision blurry with unshed tears. Fredek stood in the doorway, but Elisabetta pushed him outside. “Leave, husband. It’s time for woman talk.” She closed the door just as Fredek’s tail end disappeared outside. Approaching the table, Elisabetta tugged a chair beside Violeta and placed an arm around her. “I can’t believe he left,” Violeta said, tears spilling. Elisabetta offered her a handkerchief. “I think he’ll be back, even after your little speech, not that I blame you.” “I don’t want him to come back. I mean it. He has no intention of marrying me or starting a family. If his family wasn’t already dead I’d want to kill them. He’s like this

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because of them. They made him feel unworthy of love and I can’t undo what they’ve done.” “I still say he loves you.” “It doesn’t matter.” “Yes it does. It’s all that matters. Trust me. I’m a married woman. Give him some time without you and he’ll be back.” Violeta blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “And if he doesn’t?” “You’ll be fine. Violeta, you were always the strong one. After Mother and Father died, you took care of me, then you did well on your own. If Grigori turns out to be a fool and doesn’t realize what he has in you, then another man will. Whatever happens, you’ll always have me and Fredek.” A smile played around Violeta’s lips and she embraced her sister. “Thank you.” “That’s what family is for.” At least she had a family. Grigori had no one. Sadly this was no longer by force but by choice.

***** After leaving Violeta, Grigori tore through the sky. Not since childhood had he experienced such emotional turmoil as he felt now. Violeta had every right to be angry with him, yet no matter how much parting from her hurt, he needed to protect her. It annoyed him that she couldn’t understand he was doing this for her. She’d already been hurt because of him. If they parted ways now, she could find another man who could give her an ordinary life. He’d had enough of the unreasonable villagers and their superstitions. If they thought him a monster, then he would willingly play the role. Grigori flew past Oakforest and his castle to the training grounds of the de Forest guards. It was more than simply a place for them to sharpen their skills. For centuries the family of warriors who served his line had lived there. When old Lord de Forest had ruled, the guards had protected the castle in shifts, living in the barracks for weeks or months, then rotating with other guards who had remained with their family. Like his father, Grigori paid the guards well, even after sending them away from the castle. They remained on call for him and now he would summon them to serve. The training ground covered a hundred acres of forest and field. A stone wall, only completely visible from the sky, surrounded the family’s property. Several brick and wood dwellings stood by the lake. Vegetables grew to the west of the settlement and livestock grazed to the east of it. In yet another field, groups of Horsemen trained with weapons or sparred empty-handed. Grigori didn’t circle above the Running Way. Instead he landed on the training field. No sooner had his hoofs touched the ground than Captain Taber, a sturdily built,

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brown-coated Horseman with brown hair twisted into a thick braid down his back, ordered the warriors to attention. They lined up, their weapons sheathed. The captain approached Grigori and bowed. “Lord de Forest, how may we serve you?” asked Taber. “I require an escort to a meeting with the people of Oakforest immediately.” “I’ll join you personally, my lord.” Taber glanced at the lineup and motioned for four guards to accompany them. They flew to Oakforest, Taber in the lead, Grigori next and the four guards flanking him. The group landed outside the Chieftain’s cottage where Taber summoned the village leader and ordered him to assemble the people. Within moments everyone stood in the village square, facing Grigori and his guards and murmuring amongst themselves. “Silence!” Taber ordered and the people quieted, though the tension among them was almost tangible. “I’ve tried to be reasonable with you,” Grigori said. “I’ve cured the disease that swept through this village and I’ve extended the date of your rent payment, interest free. I’ve been repaid with threats and the destruction of my lady’s home. From this day forth rent will be paid on time. Captain Taber will be certain it is collected.” Taber’s cool blue gaze swept the crowd and he said, “I will, my lord.” “If any one of you approaches my castle in violence or if you threaten Violeta in any way, you’ll experience the full extent of my powers. I’ll lay a curse on you so terrible that it will make the Horseman Plague look like a mere annoyance.” The terror on their faces would have at one time wounded Grigori. Most of these fools truly believed he was a wizard and his marks symbolized evil. Now he felt perverse pleasure in their fear. He wielded power over him that had nothing to do with magic. It seemed he could control these people only by flaunting that power. “We’ll have your rent within the hour,” said the Chieftain, then bowed his head and added, “Lord de Forest.” Grigori turned to Captain Taber and the guards who bowed, then he ascended and returned to his castle. He walked to his chamber and approached Violeta’s side of the bed. Touching the rumpled sheets, he thought of her. He picked up the pillow on which she’d slept and closed his eyes, inhaling the pleasant, floral scent that clung to it. Violeta’s scent. Curling his lip, he flung the pillow back on the bed, then he cleaned up the broken glass she’d flung at him. Next he went to his study where he tried to immerse himself in his experiments, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything except Violeta. Grigori had never imagined falling in love. Violeta said he couldn’t love, but she was wrong. Giving her up was the hardest thing he’d ever done, more painful than the slave trader’s flogging and more distressing than his family’s rejection. 95

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Now he was truly alone and would be for the remainder of his life. Never again would he suffer the agony of love. A couple of hours later, Captain Taber and his guards arrived at the castle with the rent money from the village. Grigori spoke to them in the great hall. He kept some of the money they had collected and paid the rest to his warriors. “For your loyal service,” Grigori told them. Taber ordered the guards to take the money home, but he lingered behind after they’d gone. “Do you need something, Captain?” Grigori asked coolly. “The threat you made to the village, was it true, my lord?” Grigori focused on the captain and to the man’s credit, he met his gaze unflinching. Few could endure the penetrating stare of Grigori’s mismatched eyes. “I didn’t want trouble with them or anyone else. They pushed me to it. Some insults I’m willing to overlook, but not violence against those dear to me.” “While we were collecting the taxes, we heard about what happened to the woman’s cottage. Whatever you are, Lord de Forest, you’ve been more than fair with us and the villagers. Sometimes if respect can’t be earned, then deference must be demanded.” “I’m glad we understand each other, Captain.” “We do, my lord, and my family still serves you. Do you require the guards to return to the castle?” “Not at this time, Taber. If the situation changes, I’ll inform you.” Taber bowed to Grigori and left. Drawing a deep breath, Grigori closed his eyes for a moment, then returned to his study.

***** Since Grigori’s arrival at Oakforest, summer had passed into autumn. It had been nearly a month since he and Violeta had parted and during that time he hadn’t set hoof or wing out of the forest. Jian had sent messages from Salvation Valley, asking him to visit, but Grigori had refused. He spent hours working on experiments but for the first time in his life he did so merely to pass the time. Since leaving Violeta, he had little interest in anything. Their shared dreams had returned, but even in them she turned away from him and he allowed it. After all, that had been his goal. No matter how desperately he wanted to kiss and caress her, no matter how much he wanted to beg her to take him back, he couldn’t. Eventually the dreams would pass, or at least he hoped they would for their sake.

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Late one afternoon he returned from the woods where he’d gathered plants for his experiments. Winter would close in soon, so fresh plants wouldn’t be available much longer. After placing them on the table, he walked to the couch and stretched out on it, tired from another restless night of shared dreams. If these dreams didn’t stop soon, both he and Violeta would probably go mad. The fire in the hearth warmed the room and soon he drifted to sleep.

~~~~~ Grigori cut through the darkening sky. Cold rain pelted him and the strong wind almost knocked him off course. He noticed a familiar clearing not far from his castle. In the center stood a somber stone building. A small figure wrapped in a sable cloak ran toward it. Violeta. Grigori descended and galloped toward her, shouting her name. She paused and turned to him. Lightning flashed and she gave a startled jump before he swept her into his arms and cantered toward the stone shelter. No words could describe how good it felt to hold her again. Since parting, even in dreams they had managed to keep from touching each other—until now. Torches burned inside the mausoleum, illuminating several stone coffins. He released her and she glanced around, brushing tendrils of wet hair from her face. “What is this place?” she whispered. “My family’s mausoleum,” he replied, stepping toward the nearest coffin. He trailed a fingertip over his grandfather’s name etched upon it. “A strange place for a shared dream.” “No it’s not,” she said bitterly. He glanced at her in surprise and she continued, “I think it fits you perfectly.” “Excuse me?” Folding her arms across her chest, she stared at him with such fury he thought he might burst into flames. “You kill everything good in your life and you’ve turned your castle into a tomb where you’ll live and die alone.” “Hatefulness doesn’t become you, Violeta.” “Sorry if I disappoint you, Grigori, but at least now you know how it feels.” Though he wanted to retort, he knew she was right. Scowling, he headed toward the door. “Running away, even in a dream?” she snapped. Angry, he turned and strode toward her, backing her against the stone wall.

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She tilted her head to meet his gaze. Seeing all his anger and pain reflected in her eyes was almost unendurable. His mouth descended on hers in a plundering kiss. He told himself it was only to keep her from taunting him any further. Rather than push him away, as he expected her to do, she clung to him. Her tongue met his with hungry strokes and she moaned softly. Grigori cupped her buttocks and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his manwaist. “Violeta,” he murmured, kissing her neck. He dropped to his equine knees and pressed her to the stone floor. Closing his eyes, he quickly shifted to Huform. She took advantage of the moment of weakness that followed his change to push him onto his back. Straddling him, she covered his face and chest with kisses. The sensation of her soft, moist lips on his flesh aroused him so much that he knew he couldn’t turn away from her—not in this dream. Unable to resist, Grigori caressed her hair and gazed at her through half-closed eyes. She was naked beneath the robe and her silken thighs felt wonderful against him. Her firm bottom teased his stiffening cock. Grigori untied the robe and pushed it off her shoulders, baring her luscious breasts to his gaze and touch. He cupped them and gently rolled his thumbs over her pert nipples. He grasped her waist and tugged her toward him so he could capture one of those dark pink nipples between his lips. “Oh Grigori,” she panted, bracing a hand on the floor and using her other to cradle the back of his neck. Her strong fingers massaged him, arousing and enticing him. She wriggled on top of him and he felt her wetness against his belly. Trilling his tongue over her nipple, he reached down and cupped her buttocks, kneading and squeezing the smooth, firm spheres. “Feels so good to touch you again,” he panted. “I want you so much, Grigori.” He groaned and gently guided her onto her back. After placing the cloak beneath her head, he stretched out beside her and caressed her from breasts to pelvis. His fingers combed through the enticing nest of sandy hair that covered her soft mound. “You’re so beautiful, Violeta.” His hand dipped between her legs. First one then two fingers slid inside her. She was so wet and her internal muscles tightened around his fingers, drawing him in deeper. Another moan escaped him when he imagined how good his cock would feel inside her. His rock-hard cock ached. Violeta’s gaze shifted toward his erection. She curled her fist around it and stroked him to the same rhythm his fingers explored her. The passion in her eyes made him forget everything except his desire for her. “I want you,” she whispered. “Grigori, I need you so much.” 98

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And he needed her. Each time they surrendered to each other in a shared dream, it made staying apart in reality much harder, but at the moment he didn’t care. He withdrew his fingers from her soft, wet pussy and rolled them over her clit. “Ah!” she cried out, arching her back and thrusting against his hand. Grigori edged lower and guided her legs over his shoulders. He ran his tongue over her clit, then gently sucked the stiff little nub. “Please don’t stop,” she gasped, her fingers tight on his head. “Oh please don’t stop.” He lapped and sucked until she came, panting and writhing. Grigori slid up her undulating body and filled her with a long, slow thrust. Arching his neck, he closed his eyes. His entire body throbbed with unfulfilled desire. He needed her so much it hurt. Over and over he thrust. Violeta moaned and thrashed beneath him. Her hands roamed over him, caressing his chest and stroking his face. Unable to resist, he quickened his pace. His heart beat out of control and he wasn’t sure he could hold out for her to come again, yet he tried. Pausing, his entire body tense and quivering with need, he gazed at her. “Please come for me,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. “Oh Violeta,” he said and kissed her again. After several more thrusts, she came again. Her pulsations drove him over the edge. His heart pounded and his movements turned erratic before he gave a shout of raw pleasure and exploded in her hot, wet pussy.

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Chapter Nine Salvation Valley The following evening, Grigori sat in his study, making notes about his latest experiment, when a knock on the castle door interrupted him. He rose and walked to the window, every muscle tense and his mind set for more trouble. This time if the villagers wanted a fight, he wouldn’t hold back like last time. When Ivan and the others attacked him, they’d gotten off easy. Should they try again, he’d do battle exactly as he’d done in the arena. To his surprise, a strange blood bay Horseman stood outside the castle, a darkskinned woman astride him. He studied them for a moment and his ears twitched, straining to hear their conversation. Apparently they had traveled far to see him. A sardonic grin tugged at his lips. Why not give them what they wanted? He shifted to his beast-half. His cloven hooves clicked on the stone floor as he made his way down the ramp leading to the great hall. Pausing in the shadows, he called for his uninvited guests to enter. They stepped inside and introduced themselves as Wilder and Janelle. They explained that they had flown from the Hall of Fighting Carriers to ask Grigori to examine Wilder who had developed a vision impairment. They had heard he cured the Horseman Plague and hoped he might know of a way to treat Wilder’s affliction. Grigori stepped toward them, expecting them to change their mind after seeing that he bore the markings. To his surprise, other than glancing at his coat and hooves with mild curiosity, they seemed unaffected by his appearance. After examining Wilder, Grigori could provide no treatment. Nothing could stop his loss of vision. Since they had a long flight home, he offered the couple a meal and a room for the night. Over dinner, they tried to make conversation, but Grigori’s thoughts lingered on Violeta and how much he missed her. Somehow seeing this couple—a Horseman warrior who was slowly going blind and a woman who hadn’t allowed restrictions against her sex to prevent her from pursuing a career as a Gatherer—made him reconsider his life. Janelle and Wilder had learned a system of flying together that allowed her to guide him with various signals. Together they had overcome obstacles and earned a place as instructors at the Hall of Fighting Carriers. If a partially blind Horseman and a young woman who had struck out on her own could do this, perhaps he could find a way to make it work with Violeta. She had been willing to try. She had suggested other options, such as moving to Salvation Valley, but

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Grigori had retreated into the same emotional shell that had enabled him to survive in the past. He was no longer a boy reviled by his family, nor was he a slave. He was a man, a healer and the lord of Oakforest. It was long past time he started acting like it. The following morning, after Janelle and Wilder left, Grigori flew to his faithful warriors and spoke to Captain Taber. The guards would return to the castle. The wives and children of several guards agreed to work there as well. He intended to turn the castle over to them while he and Violeta moved to Salvation Valley to start a family—if she’d have him. He realized he had much to make up for and he hoped she would give him the chance.

***** Violeta and Elisabetta stood outside the cottage hanging freshly washed laundry. Elisabetta chatted to pass the time, but Violeta spoke little, her thoughts on Grigori. Instead of fading, their dreams had only intensified. She wondered if it were possible for dream lovers to ignore the spell drawing them together. At least she hadn’t dreamed last night, probably because she’d scarcely slept. She wondered if Grigori had stayed awake as well. Part of her hoped Grigori was suffering as much as she was, while another part— the part that loved him deeply—wished for him to find peace with or without her. A shadow overhead drew her attention and she glanced up. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Grigori descending, his black wings spread wide. He landed a short distance away. After exchanging greetings with him, Elisabetta said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to return to the cottage.” “No you don’t,” Violeta said. Glancing from Violeta to Grigori, she said, “Yes I do.” She lifted her skirts and hurried off. Furious at her sister for abandoning her, Violeta cursed under her breath and returned to hanging laundry. “We need to talk,” he said. “So talk.” “Look at me.” Ignoring him, she placed a wooden clothespin on Fredek’s shirt. Grigori’s hand closed gently over hers and she turned to glare at him. “Violeta, I’m sorry. I was wrong and you were right.” Drawing a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head, walked to a tree stump and sat. She rubbed a hand over her face and said, “I can’t do this anymore.” 101

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“Violeta, please. I was wrong to say we couldn’t make this work. You offered alternatives but I wouldn’t listen. I don’t want to live without you. Give me another chance.” Releasing a tremulous breath, she tilted her gaze toward his. “I love you, Grigori, but I need stability. I need to make some kind of life for myself, with or without you.” He sank to his equine knees, his intense gaze upon her. Taking her hand, he said, “Marry me, Violeta, and I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.” “You don’t understand. If you’re not happy, then I can’t be.” “I met some people recently who made me see that we have to make our own happiness. Give me the chance to make it happen for us.” “Grigori, I want to believe you.” “I swear to you, Violeta, I’ll never turn away from you again. Whatever happens in the future, we’ll face it together.” His words touched her deeply, but she couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. A quirky smile tugged at her lips and she asked, “I suppose you want a long engagement.” “If I didn’t know how much women like big wedding celebrations, I’d marry you today.” “I don’t need a big celebration, Grigori—except in our bed tonight.” If possible his gaze intensified. “Then…you’re saying yes?” “Yes I’ll marry you. Today, if possible.” Smiling, he tugged her into a snug embrace. Violeta buried her face against his shoulder and closed her eyes, enjoying his scent and the feel of his hard, warm body. Despite their shared dreams, it felt like forever since she’d held him like this. “I want to tell Elisabetta and Fredek so they can witness the ceremony.” “Of course. How do you feel about flying to Salvation Valley so Jian can officiate?” The Chieftain of any village could marry them, but Violeta agreed Jian was the best choice. “I’d like that very much,” she said. He rose and hand in hand they approached the cottage. “There’s so much we need to talk about,” he said. “I’ve made some changes at the castle. Captain Taber and my guards have returned, along with some wives and daughters who have agreed to care for the castle. I’ve thought about what you said before and I agree we should move to Salvation Valley to start a family. My guards will continue to collect the rent. There’s no way I’ll simply hand over my land to the villagers.” “We’ve heard rumors about a threat you made to the people of Oakforest,” she said quietly. 102

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“I tried making peace with them, but they won’t have it. Now they’ll see that I can easily become the tyrant they thought me to be. It’s their choice, not mine.” “I agree,” she said. He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “You do?” “You were more than fair with them. If they’re too stupid to see you make a far better ally than an enemy, it’s their problem.” “I love you, Violeta,” he said. She gave a little shout of surprise as he swept her into his arms and kissed her. Clinging to his neck she smiled.

***** Early that evening, Violeta and Grigori married in Salvation Valley. As planned, Jian officiated. Elisabetta, Fredek and several of Grigori’s friends witnessed the ceremony. Afterward everyone enjoyed a meal at Jian’s home. That night, instead of returning to the castle, Grigori brought Violeta to his cottage on the outskirts of Salvation Valley. They planned to build an addition and live there. The cottage had two rooms—a spacious one where Grigori cooked, ate and conducted experiments and a small bedroom. “It’s not much, but we’ll make changes,” Grigori said. “I love it.” She smiled, approached the hearth and ran her hands over the top of it. “Needs some cleaning, though.” “Well no one’s lived here in months.” “When do you want to move back here permanently?” “I’d like some time to make arrangements with Captain Taber and we’ll need to move our things here. Also I’d prefer to have the addition built before we move in. We’ll stay at the castle for another month or so.” “And in the meantime we can start on the family we talked about.” He approached and took her in his arms. “We’ll start on that tonight.” “Sounds wonderful to me.” She smiled. He caressed her hair, dipped his head toward hers and covered her mouth with a tender kiss. The affection and passion Grigori had felt for Violeta in his youth had remained with him all his life, but paled compared to what he felt for the woman she had become. Even now he could scarcely believe she’d felt the same way about him. That day by the river so long ago he had never imagined he would one day marry her. Closing his eyes, he deepened the kiss. Violeta’s soft, moist lips parted and her tongue met his. Her hands roamed over his shoulders and back then drifted lower to cup his buttocks.

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He broke the kiss and opened his eyes to find her gazing at him, all the love he felt reflected in her eyes. “This is the happiest moment of my life,” he said. “Mine too,” she whispered and smiled, standing on tiptoe and kissing him. Grigori lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He placed her on it and removed her clothes, then quickly shed his. While he undressed, her hot gaze traveled over him. When he finished, she grasped his hands and tugged him toward her. He stretched out on his back and his heartbeat quickened when she straddled him and guided his hands above his head. The playful gleam in her eyes aroused him and he reached for her. “Put your hands back,” she ordered. This game intrigued him so he let her take control. Violeta’s soft kisses covered his chest. She trailed her warm, wet tongue down his stomach. His muscles tightened and his pulse leapt. Her full pink lips and arousing tongue inched lower. Even before she touched his cock it stiffened and swelled. Curling her fist around him, she stroked him to full mast, then took the sensitive head between her enticing lips. Grigori moaned softly. His eyes closed halfway. By the sky god he wanted to shut them all the way, but at the same time he wanted to watch her. Seeing her suck and lick his cock added to his arousal and she seemed to realize it. Her gaze held his while she teased him. When her wet tongue flicked the underside of his cock head, he arched his neck and closed his eyes. He clasped the oak headboard and lifted his hips. “You’d better stop,” he panted. Violeta moaned and swirled her tongue around his cock head, then kissed his shaft from crown to base and back again. Grigori marveled at his self-control. He’d never felt such intense pleasure in his life. Just when he thought she’d push him too far, her mouth left him. Her small fist tightened around the base of his cock and he opened his eyes to meet her gaze. “I love tasting you,” she said. “Violeta,” he breathed. Slowly she loosened her grip on his cock. Grigori reached for her and tugged her up his body so they lay breast to chest. She wriggled atop him. Trapped between their bodies, his cock ached and throbbed. He gently pushed her onto her back and kissed her, his body partially draped over hers. Sliding a hand between her legs, he broke their kiss only to nuzzle her neck and shoulder.

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He loved her scent, the feel of her soft, warm skin and the way her breathing quickened when he slid his fingers inside her. He explored her wet pussy slowly, teasing her as she had teased him and loving every moment of it. “I can’t believe this is real,” she breathed, caressing his head. “After all those dreams…” “And too much time apart.” Their gazes locked and he said, “I’m sorry, Violeta, for being a fool and wasting time we could have spent together.” A faint smile tugged at her lips. She trailed her fingertips down his cheek and over his mouth. “Don’t worry about the past. Now matters. Now and our future.” He nodded and returned her smile before sliding his fingers from her pussy to rub gentle circles over her clit. Her beautiful gaze softened even more and she drew a deep breath, her back arching. Grigori licked and kissed the soft curve of her belly while he continued stroking her clit. His tongue teased her adorable navel, then he moved up slightly and gently took one of her nipples between his teeth. He flicked it with his tongue, then sucked on it. “Oh Grigori,” she murmured, tense and trembling as she neared her climax. He covered her body with his and filled her with a long, slow thrust while at the same time he reached between them and flicked her clit with his thumb. With a little cry, she came hard. She clung to him and her pussy throbbed, drawing him in deeper. Grigori drew several steadying breaths and braced his hands on either side of her head. As her orgasm waned, he thrust, pushing her toward another climax. “I love you so much, Grigori,” she said, clinging to his neck. She rolled her tongue around his ear and nibbled it. He groaned. “I love you too, Violeta. I love you so much.” Expressing his love for her no longer felt strange, but right. For most of his life, he’d never imagined telling someone he loved them or having someone tell him the same. With Violeta just about anything seemed possible. “Oh Grigori!” she gasped, teetering on the edge of orgasm. He quickened his pace and pushed her over. This time he joined her, bathing in waves of ecstasy. When it ended, he rolled onto his back and tugged her close to him. Sighing with pleasure, Violeta rested her cheek against his chest while he stroked her shoulder. “I love you,” he said again and kissed her hair. She lifted her head and smiled at him. “You too, husband.”

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Grigori threw himself into preparations for their move to Salvation Valley. He spent long hours with Captain Taber, leaving Violeta in charge of hiring servants for the castle. Most were from the warrior village, but two former maids and a stable worker returned. They had served the de Forest family since before Grigori’s birth and remembered how his parents had treated him as an outcast. Even then they had sympathized with him. Having fallen on difficult times since Grigori had dismissed his servants, they gladly rejoined his staff. Toward the end of the week, Violeta convinced Grigori to take an afternoon off to visit Salvation Valley. “I’m starting to wonder if you really want to leave Oakforest after all,” Violeta said once they’d taken to the sky. In spite of the hot day, a gentle breeze made flying pleasant. “I want to make sure everything is in order.” “Captain Taber seems like a capable man.” “I trust him.” His statement surprised Violeta. Grigori rarely trusted anyone. Still she agreed that Taber appeared to be a man of integrity. “Are you going to miss Oakforest?” he asked. “I have some wonderful memories of growing up there, but the past is gone. All I care about is our future together. We already have friends in Salvation Valley and I’m sure we’ll be happy there.” About an hour into their flight, Grigori said, “Do you smell smoke?” Violeta inhaled deeply. “Yes. A bit. Someone’s probably cooking.” “No,” Grigori said. His muscles tensed and he picked up his pace. Violeta also began to worry when the scent of smoke and fire grew stronger. Long before they reached Salvation Valley, they noticed heavy smoke in the distance, then flames. “Grigori, the entire countryside is on fire,” Violeta said, unable to keep the panic from her voice. “It must be the all the heat and dry weather.” He picked up his pace even more, his body heating. Violeta tightened her hold around his man-torso. Her palms pressed to his chest and his heart beat hard against them. Violeta’s heart pounded too. What if the valley had already been destroyed? Had their friends managed to escape? Was anyone hurt? By the time they reached the valley, smoke and ash hung thick on the air. The flames consumed a distant forest, but Salvation Valley had yet to be touched. Still it was only a matter of time before the fire swept through the village. Several Horsemen, most with humans on their back, circled over the cottages. “Looks like they’re evacuating,” Grigori said.

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“Isn’t that Ivan?” Violeta pointed toward a dark-coated Horseman in the distance. “Yes,” Grigori said and headed toward him. Grigori flew in beside Ivan who glanced at him. Sweat glistened on his ash-streaked face and man-torso. “The fire has taken two villages and this one is probably next. My crisis troop was training in the area early this morning when we saw the flames,” Ivan said. “Since then we’ve been evacuating with the help of Horsemen civilians, but there’s not enough of us. At least three other villages in the area are in danger. I sent a messenger to the Hall of Fighting Carriers for backup.” “You look like you can use it,” Violeta said, coughing and burying her face against Grigori’s back. Her eyes and throat already stung from the smoke. She could only imagine how Ivan and his troop must feel, after fighting this disaster all day. Luckily enhanced healing powers accompanied Horsemen’s shapeshifting ability, but even with their powerful physique, fighting a fire such as this took its toll. “I can get you help,” Grigori said. “My warriors will come. Where are we taking the people?” “My home village is full, so we’ve been flying them to Blackbird Village.” “My castle and land are available.” “We’ve just started moving people from here. Can you take everyone from Salvation Valley?” “Of course,” Grigori said. “Do you think the fire will reach Oakforest?” Violeta asked. Both Ivan and Grigori shook their heads. “The river and mountains should protect us,” Ivan said. “We better get moving,” Grigori said. “I’ll take another passenger now, along with Violeta, then I’ll be back. Violeta, when we get to the castle, I want you and the women to organize. I’m sure we’ll have injured to attend as well.” “We’ll get to it right away,” she replied. They landed at Jian’s home where the healer had set up a temporary hospital for Horsemen who had been hurt during the evacuation. Most looked as hot and tired as Ivan. “Grigori, I’m glad you’re here,” Jian said. “From what I saw we’ll need to move out soon,” Grigori told him. “I’m staying for as long as possible. These Horsemen will need a healer around until the last villager is safely out of here.” “I’m staying too,” said Bala, who had been applying salve to a Horseman’s burned shoulder. “But I need to get Reena out of here.” “We’ll take her,” Violeta said. “Bala, do you really want to stay behind? You should be with your daughter.” 107

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Bala glanced at her, a hint of anger in her eyes. “Ajay wouldn’t have abandoned the village. Neither will I.” Violeta had suspected grief over her husband’s death influenced her decision to stay. Maybe it was better for her, and Grigori would certainly fly her out long before the fire reached the valley. Bala crossed the room and picked up Reena, who slept in a basket covered with a blanket to keep away the smoke. She brought the baby to them, kissed her and placed her in Violeta’s arms. “Please keep her safe,” Bala said. Violeta didn’t like the expression in the woman’s eyes. “You have my word. Bala, you should come with us—” The woman shook her head and brushed a lock of dark hair from her face before turning away. “We need to go,” Grigori said and glanced around the room. “I can take another adult passenger or two children.” Moments later Grigori ascended with Violeta, Reena and two young sisters on his back. It seemed one disaster followed another. They had only recently overcome the Horseman Plague. Now this fire threatened so many people in the area. Violeta prayed for rain, this time not only to help the crops but to save these settlements.

***** By the time Grigori and his guards reached Salvation Valley, a troop of Fighting Carriers had arrived. The lead Fighting Carrier, Terra—a tall black-coated warrior—had taken control of the situation. He met briefly with Grigori to confirm that Castle de Forest had room enough for the remainder of the villagers as well as those from additional settlements. After assigning Grigori’s warriors to help evacuate, Terra turned back to Grigori and said, “Ivan told me who you are. Right now we need your skills as a healer more than we need you in flight. Relieve the old Chieftain down there.” “Jian.” “He wouldn’t leave since he’s the only trained healer. Now that you’re here maybe he’ll get out of the smoke.” Grigori nodded and descended. Inside his cottage, Jian stood treating burns on a blood bay Horseman. “Wilder,” Grigori said, approaching the blood bay who turned to face him. “Lord de Forest,” Wilder said and the men clasped hands. “Janelle and I flew down with Terra’s troop.” Jian turned away from Wilder in a fit of coughing. 108

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“I’m here to relieve you,” Grigori said to his old mentor. “But—” “I’m more than capable. Get back to the castle, Jian. Trust me, many people there need a healer. Violeta is on her own.” Still coughing, Jian nodded, then placed a hand on Grigori’s shoulder before leaving the cottage. Grigori took over tending the burns on Wilder’s flank. “How is the vision?” Grigori asked. “My peripheral is gone now,” Wilder replied. “But I’m not complaining. At least I can see straight ahead and with Janelle guiding me, I can fly just about anywhere.” “Love like you have is priceless.” Wilder glanced at him, his eyebrow raised in surprise. “When we last met I got the idea you prefer a solitary life.” “My wife helped me see things differently.” Wilder grinned. “Congratulations.” Though Grigori felt uncomfortable opening up to anyone except Violeta and Jian, he couldn’t let this chance meeting with Wilder pass without offering thanks. “If not for you and your wife, I might have made the biggest mistake of my life. Seeing you and Janelle together, I realized that love, if you find it, is more important than anything.” At that moment Janelle approached and nodded to Grigori. “Glad we could help,” Wilder said. “What?” Janelle asked. “It seems last time we met Lord de Forest we ended up matchmakers and didn’t even know it. After we left he got married.” Janelle looked as surprised as her husband had a moment ago. “All the best to you, Lord de Forest.” “Please call me Grigori.” She placed a hand on Wilder’s equine shoulder. “The fire is spreading faster. If you’re ready to get back out there, Terra is asking for us.” She wrinkled her nose at the sight of his burns as Grigori finished covering them with a layer of salve. “That’s got to hurt.” “I’ll live,” he said and lowered himself to his knees so she could mount easily. “Ready, Luscious?” “I’m always ready, Master of the Skies.” Grigori cocked an eyebrow. “Master of the Skies?” A grin tugged at Wilder’s lips and he shrugged. “She loves me.”

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Janelle slid onto his back, her hands resting lightly on his man shoulders. Seeing them together made him think of Violeta. He could scarcely wait to see her again. “Good luck and fly safely,” Grigori told them before they headed out the door. “See you at your castle,” Janelle called over her shoulder. After Janelle and Wilder left, Grigori lost track of how much time passed. He treated Horsemen for burns, cuts and other injuries sustained while evacuating Salvation Valley and surrounding settlements. As the fire neared, Grigori joined in evacuating the last villagers. By the time the fire actually reached the valley, everyone had been cleared out. Grigori and Terra were among the last to leave. When Grigori finally arrived at the castle, Jian met him inside the great hall where the villagers had assembled. “At least everyone is here and safe,” Grigori said to Jian. It had been a long day and he’d sustained a few minor injuries that stung, but he couldn’t complain. He’d seen other people far worse off and at least he and Violeta still had the castle. The people here, as well as ones from other villages, had lost their homes. “It appears that way,” Jain said wearily. “Grigori,” Violeta said, approaching him from behind. He turned to find her holding Reena and looking worried. “Where’s Bala?” she asked. “She’s not here?” Grigori snapped. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight,” Jian said, his face etched with worry. “By the sky god, I think she’s still at the village.” “What?” Violeta shouted. “I’ll get her,” Grigori said. “The fire has probably consumed the place by now, or close to it,” Jian said. “Doesn’t matter. If there’s a chance of saving her—” “You need to go,” Violeta agreed, despite the horror in her eyes. “Grigori, please be careful.” He brushed her mouth with a kiss. “Come back to me,” she whispered. “I will,” he said and headed for the door. His weariness forgotten, replaced by terror and the determination to find Bala, he ascended almost as soon as he set a hoof out the castle. He hadn’t been able to help his old and dear friend, Ajay, but he would not fail to save that same friend’s wife. Grigori tore through the sky. “Lord de Forest!”

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Seconds later, Captain Taber appeared beside him, his dark wings beating in time with Grigori’s. “Where are you going?” Taber shouted. “Back to Salvation Valley. Someone was left behind.” Taber nodded and the men picked up their speed. Nearing the valley, both Horsemen were forced to slow their pace as they choked and gasped for breath due to the heavy smoke and ash. The fire had reached the village and most of the houses were ablaze. Scarcely able to see, they flew low, looking for any sign of life. Then they noticed two figures in the graveyard—a woman and a dark-coated Horseman. Bala and Ivan. “That’s her!” Grigori coughed. He and Taber flew closer. “Let me go!” Bala screamed, trying to jerk away from Ivan who held her by the arm. “I won’t leave him! Get away from me, bastard!” She struck at him with her free hand and kicked his equine legs, but he pulled her into a firm embrace and ascended. “Ivan!” Grigori called and the dark-coated Horseman glanced at him. Bala had stopped struggling and hung limp in his embrace. He couldn’t fly back to Oakforest with her in his human arms the whole way. They flew a short distance, then landed. “Why didn’t you leave me?” Bala said, tears streaking her face. Ivan cupped her chin and tilted her face toward his. His tender expression nearly took Grigori aback. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” Bala whispered. “Yes I do,” Ivan told her. “Your daughter is waiting for you,” Grigori said and Bala glanced at him. She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I thought you and Violeta…I know she wants children.” “You have a daughter?” Ivan said, his brow furrowed. Covering her face with her hands, Bala sobbed. “I’m… I didn’t want to leave him.” “Her husband died of the Horseman Plague,” Grigori said, placing a hand on Bala’s shoulder. “If you were mine I wouldn’t want you to follow me to an early grave,” Ivan said. Captain Taber glanced over his shoulder. “We need to get moving or the fire will catch us.” “Mount up,” Ivan ordered Bala and lowered himself to his equine knees. “Now, woman!”

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Her brow furrowed and her gaze met Ivan’s. Grigori thought she’d argue again. Instead she slid onto his back, then the three Horsemen ascended. They had nearly reached the castle when thunder clapped, lightning flashed and rain poured from the sky. “Now it rains,” Ivan growled. “Better now than never,” Captain Taber said. They landed outside the castle and hurried to the great hall. Violeta and Jian were the first to approach them. After placing Reena in her mother’s arms, Violeta turned to Grigori and he enfolded her in a snug embrace. “What happened?” she asked. “I’ll tell you later,” he whispered. “At least you got to her in time.” “Not me. Ivan rescued her.” Violeta glanced at Ivan who stood a short distance away. He looked tired and for the first time since she’d known him, rather lonely. “He’s changed a lot,” she said. “I didn’t think it was possible for people to change, until I met you.” Grigori gently cupped her face. He leaned closer and brushed her mouth with a kiss. Wrapping her arms around him, she whispered close to his ear, “I love you.” “I love you too, Violeta.” Holding her, he thought about what he’d witnessed in the graveyard. He understood Bala’s feelings and he hoped that someday, she would find peace and know love again.

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Epilogue Thankfully the fire claimed no lives in Salvation Valley, but the village had been destroyed and needed to be rebuilt before the first snow started. During repairs, Grigori offered to house the villagers of Salvation Valley and surrounding areas. The warrior village also opened its homes to those in need. Through Captain Taber, Grigori sent a message to Oakforest that anyone wanting to help the villagers rebuild Salvation Valley would be well paid and their rent decreased for the next year. As difficult as times had been, some villagers took the offer. Others complained and spoke of rebellion. Finally pushed to his limits, Grigori flew to Oakforest and made a final statement. Once again the people assembled in front of the Chieftain’s home. Flanked by Captain Taber and several guards, Grigori said, “Most of you have made it plain you don’t want to live on the land of a man you loathe and mistrust. I’m tired of the pettiness. After what happened recently in nearby villages, we should all be lucky we still have homes. Fighting each other won’t help any of us. Anyone who doesn’t like the conditions here in Oakforest, leave. Those who stay, do so because you’re willing to work with me, with each other and with guests from whatever village they come from. Believe me when I say I’ll make a far better ally than enemy.” Over the next few weeks, several people moved out of Oakforest, including Marca, the tavern keeper’s wife. With diligent effort, those who remained rebuilt Salvation Valley by the first snow of the year. Grigori and Violeta asked Bala to move into the castle, but she wanted to return to Salvation Valley and continue on her own, supporting Reena as a seamstress. Ivan, with whom she developed a close friendship, personally rebuilt her home. If not for the improvements he’d made in his own life, Grigori wouldn’t have believed a person could change as much as Ivan. Though life in Oakforest wasn’t perfect, Grigori held true to his word. Those who remained behind were treated fairly. Grigori willingly shared his resources and the protection of his guards. With his help, the people survived winter and the following year, with improved weather, the crops once again thrived. Grigori and Violeta decided to stay at the castle, not because they didn’t love their friends in Salvation Valley, but because Grigori finally realized he couldn’t run from himself. De Forest Castle was his home, his birthright and he wouldn’t surrender it due to the superstitions of others.

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The following autumn, Violeta gave birth to a boy whom they named Alexi after her father. “When he’s old enough to shift shape, I wonder if he’ll have a striped coat?” Grigori mused, gazing at the baby Violeta held. He sat beside her on the bed and slid an arm around her. Snuggling against Grigori, she said, “Maybe he’ll be a healer, like his father.” “It doesn’t matter what he is or what he looks like.” Grigori’s gaze met hers. “All that matters is he’ll be loved.” “Like his father.” She smiled and tilted her face toward his. Cupping her chin, he covered her mouth in a tender kiss. The End

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About the Author Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who likes heroes with a touch of something wicked and wild. Her short fiction and poetry have appeared in publications both on and off the Internet. When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, and researching vampires and Viking history.

Kate welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Kate Hill Alien Affairs 1: Doing Thyme Alien Affairs 2: Moonlight on Water Alien Affairs 3: Menage a Tasia Alien Affairs 4: Pandora’s Box Ancient Blood: Blood Doctor Ancient Blood: Cryptic Trysts Ancient Blood: Darkness Therein Ancient Blood: Deep Red Ancient Blood: God of the Grim Ancient Blood: Handsome Bastard Ancient Blood: Holiday Stalking Ancient Blood: Immaculate Ancient Blood: In Black Ancient Blood: Infernal Ancient Blood: Much More Than Blood Ancient Blood: Revenge of the Court Jester Back to Haunt You Ellora’s Cavemen: Jewels of the Nile I anthology His Sister’s Kiss Horsemen 1: Dream Stallion Horsemen 2: Captive Stallion Horsemen 3: Highland Stallion Horsemen 4: Winter Stallion Horsemen 5: Victory Stallion Horsemen 6: Mountain Stallion Knights of the Ruby Order 1: Torn Knights of the Ruby Order 2: Crag Knights of the Ruby Order 3: Lock Knights of the Ruby Order 4: Mica Knights of the Ruby Order 5: Blaze Licking Fire

Marriage in Moonlust Midnight Desires anthology Moonlust Privateer Naked Souls Northman’s Passion Raptvyn’s Rogue Rediscovering Thor Silver Cuffs Windswept

Print books by Kate Hill Ancient Blood: Darkness Within Ancient Blood: Immaculate Ancient Blood: Unquenchable anthology By Honor Bound anthology Dusky Kisses anthology Ellora’s Cavemen: Jewels of the Nile I anthology Forever Midnight anthology Horsemen: Captive Stallion Horsemen: Dream Stallion Horsemen: Highland Stallion Knights of the Ruby Order: Lock Knights of the Ruby Order: Torn and Crag anthology Moonlight on Water

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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