Just him saying the words, putting the idea into her head that something could happen to him, made the air rush from her lungs. She wasn’t certain why, but the idea of losing him made her feel instantly desolate. She gripped his arm as they climbed the steps to the front door. The wind rose along with the howling of the wolves. The pack sounded as if they were coming much closer. She swung around to face behind them. The forest and brush were too close, giving wild creatures too many places to hide.
“Let’s leave this place. We don’t need to be here.”
Nicu dropped back to the bottom stair and faced the vast yard calmly. He held his arms out as if greeting old friends. His voice was a soft murmur, the words in another language, and Adalasia vaguely caught phrases she understood but was uncertain how she knew the language. It was old-world, a dialect long gone, she was certain, and one she hadn’t heard before. Sandu occasionally uttered a few words, but why should she recognize and understand what Nicu was saying?
“My brethren. Long has it been since I have seen you. Come to me.” Nicu walked into the yard and sat on the ground, his arms still out in welcome. “I brought friends to see our brother. While he welcomes them, let us renew our kinship.”
Adalasia held her breath as wolves emerged from the trees and brush from every direction, rushing toward Nicu. One nearly knocked him flat. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming. Sandu, you have to help him.
Nicu needs no help with animals.
The massive front door opened, and a beautiful man stood there, his dark gaze flicking over the tight group of ancients, to her, and then to Nicu and the wolves rolling around together in the front yard by the stairs. Amusement slid into the deep black velvet of his eyes.
“Please do enter of your own free will.” He stepped back and gestured to allow them to walk inside. “Nicu, stop playing and come in as well. The pack has a job to do, and you are not helping them train the younger ones.”
Sandu swept Adalasia into his arms before she could walk through the doorway. He carried her in and put her on her feet once they were inside. Lucian turned to look at him, his gaze sweeping the two of them.
“Your lifemate?”
“Adalasia,” Sandu answered. “She is bound to me but not yet converted.”
Adalasia didn’t clench her teeth, but it took effort. He’d used the word “converted,” but she wasn’t asking in front of Lucian. He hadn’t liked Sandu carrying her inside, but she wasn’t asking about that, either. There were too many things Sandu hadn’t told her that he should have.
She smiled her best professional smile. She was extremely proficient at putting people at ease. “Thank you so much for seeing us, Lucian, at such short notice. Your home is truly lovely.”
“Thank you.” Lucian inclined his head courteously.
Sandu had moved close to her, so close he actually positioned her under his shoulder, her front to his side. One arm slid around her waist.
Benedek casually moved up to her other side. “It has been long since I saw you, Lucian.”
Petru came up on the other side of Sandu. “You look well, Lucian.”
Siv stepped around them and gripped Lucian’s arms in the old greeting of warriors. “Bur tule ek?met kuntamak—well met brother-kin.”
Lucian answered him. “El?sz jel?bam ainaak—long may you live in the light.”
Siv stepped back. “I add my appreciation to Sandu and Adalasia’s.”
Nicu came through the door, looking as immaculate as always. “Have I missed anything important? Greetings, Lucian.”
Lucian shook his head. “Now that you’ve gotten reacquainted with the wolf pack, Nicu, and could find the time to join us, come into the library where it’s warmer. Adalasia will not have to have Sandu keep her body temperature up for her. I have a fire going.” He led them into a very large room that Adalasia could have spent months in.
The library was massive. Very comfortable-looking chairs had been set out in a semicircle in front of a large stone fireplace. The flames were already dancing, and she was immediately drawn to the warmth. On three walls were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a ladder on railings, the only way to get to the top shelves. Adalasia had always loved books. She couldn’t help herself; her gaze kept straying to the titles. So many. She could tell many were very old and in different languages. For a moment, she wished the men were gone and she could just spend the entire night right there, going through those books. She would hang off that ladder . . .