Already he was taking them closer, giving Vasilisa every opportunity to study the specific spell her aunt was using so she could copy it when she needed to.
Olga looked as if she were climbing up the side of the wall, andthen she slung one leg over the top of the fault and pulled herself up. She hesitated. The interior suddenly glowed orange and red. When it did, Olga leapt down out of sight.
Vasilisa let out her breath. “That was unexpected. Do you think she jumped into a furnace of flames?”
“No, I believe that was a signal to allow her entrance. She was waiting for that before she entered fully.”
“Great. How are we going to get in?” Vasilisa asked.
He grinned at her and put her down. “First, before anything else, we’re going to explore those memories I have stored away. I wanted to forget them for whatever reason. If I did something terrible, I ask for forgiveness ahead of time.”
She bit down on her lip and regarded him steadily with what she hoped was a stern expression. “What kind of terrible thing are we talking here? It would make a difference.”
His eyebrow shot up. “I might have killed a few people.”
She shrugged and waved that away. “I’m certain they were deserving of it. What else?”
“I started with the worst,” he admitted. “I don’t know where to go from there.”
“Apparently, you aren’t nearly the badass you think you are. There’s a shepherd’s cabin just over the ridge. We could go there and sort through your memories if you’d like.”
For an answer, he scooped her up and held her close to his chest again. She liked being there too much to protest.
“What indiscretion were you thinking you might find, Vasilisa, that could be unforgivable?”
She felt heat rise into her face. She refused to meet his eyes. “It was a silly game we were playing. I was teasing you.”
“Perhaps a little silly and maybe a game, but the question held some kind of significance for you. What was it?”
She set her teeth and wished she was like some of the other Lycanwomen who would never succumb to a man’s request, no matter how reasonable he sounded. They had formed their own society in opposition to the Sacred Circle, refusing to be shut out of the things they’d fought so hard to achieve. No one wanted to be relegated to child care and cooking for a man while he could do anything he wanted to do and had complete control in everything said or done.
“There is nothing wrong with staying home to take care of a child or cooking for your spouse, which, I assure you, you will never have to do. At least the cooking part. And I’m the type of man who believes if I father a child, I want to be there every moment of his or her life. The wonder of just thinking about such a miracle is amazing to me.”
“You would stay home to take care of a child?” She did her best to keep sarcasm out of her voice, but really? Afanasiv was born a predator. She didn’t see him shrugging off that part of himself so easily.
“Absolutely, I would. I don’t do anything by halves, Vasilisa. When I become a father, I intend to be the best father I can be. I understand the need for women and children better than most. I treasure my lifemate and will certainly treasure any children we have together.”
She believed him. She believed he would stay home with the children if she didn’t care to. He’d probably homeschool them, as well, and they’d rock every assignment.
Vasilisa found herself smiling. “To the right, just follow that little worn path. The shepherd’s cabin is there.”
Afanasiv set her down right at the door. Like the one Garald and Taisiya occupied, this cabin was well stocked with supplies for anyone in need. Wood was neatly stacked in one corner of the room close to the woodstove. The single cot that stretched along the wall closest to the stove had several neatly folded blankets stacked on the mattress. Canned goods were stored on crude shelves over a sink. Two metal plates and forks and knives were arranged on another shelf.
It was a familiar sight. Over the centuries, Afanasiv had seen manycabins, some not so fancy and others on wealthy ranches, but they were all there for the same reason—to aid the shepherd or cowboy in bad weather.
They settled quickly in the warmth once Afanasiv got the fire going. He simply waved his hand, and the logs burned brightly, flames rolling over them to heat the interior fast.
Vasilisa sank down onto the cot, leaving the chair for Afanasiv. She pressed her back to the wall as she watched his face carefully. By others’ standards, he would never be considered a handsome man, but he was wholly masculine and, to her, utterly attractive. He always appeared calm when, right now, she was a mass of nerves.
“Relax,sívamet, I am no longer in the underworld. I’m safe here with you. They cannot call me back.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know.” He was firm about it. “I’m going to drop my shields now. You may find some shocking battle tactics, but ignore them. We have to consider the time. If dawn reaches us, we will have to go to ground and try this on the next rising.”
She hadn’t thought about the position of the moon or sun. Sorina was always chastising her, reminding her to be cognizant of when the sun rose and fell.
Vasilisa nodded and shed her body. She was becoming more adept at doing so. It was a matter of letting go of one’s ego and becoming a healing light or attempting to discover what was wrong without any truly selfish motive. Afanasiv did the same. The two of them traveled through his mind, Vasilisa not really knowing what she was searching for, but certain she would know if she stumbled across memories of demons.