Her little frown began to come back, but the door to the formal dining room opened. This time it was her brother Garald who called out to them. “Vasi, Afanasiv, quit making eyes at each other and come on in before Andros wears a hole in the granite.” There was amusement in his voice, but even with that, Afanasiv caught that little note of concern.
Afanasiv took the opportunity to avoid talking about claiming and what that might mean in terms of making Vasilisa wholly his and keeping him safe. He took her hand again, enveloping hers in his much larger one to go straight into the dining room.
It was enormous, a banquet hall more than an actual formal dining room. A hundred guests could easily be accommodated, far more than that number. The floors gleamed a beautiful black and white, with thin bands of gold running through the marble tiles. Beautiful chandeliers hung overhead, dripping teardrop crystals that glittered with color. The tables gleamed a brilliant cherrywood. The walls were marble as well, as if the tiles had run from floor to high ceiling, causing the room to seem even larger. The gold streaks appeared to widen as they reached higher toward the chandeliers. The overall effect was breathtaking.
Andros Sidkorolyavolkvo paced the length of the entire banquet hall, and yet that didn’t seem enough space to contain his ire. He turned his head slowly to look his sister up and down and then really look Afanasiv over. He took in every aspect with those same eyes Vasilisa had, seeing far beyond the outer shell to the person inside.
Afanasiv paid him back in kind, standing unflinching under the intense scrutiny as he assessed the man who ruled the Lycans. Andros wasn’t simply regarded as the authority there in Siberia but was the authority over all Lycans. They had a council, and for the most part, decisions were made at that level. But when disputes erupted that couldn’t be fixed by the council, the matter was presented to Andros. His word was absolute law in the Lycan world.
Afanasiv knew the royals were never spoken of outside the Lycanpeople. They were protected by being kept a secret. Lycans were very good at secrecy. If Afanasiv was worried that members of the Sacred Circle would turn on the royals, Andros had to be worried as well. Having his sister be a lifemate to a Carpathian had to be just one more headache for him.
Andros paced back up the room until he was standing directly in front of them. “Just how far has this courtship gone?” he demanded.
Afanasiv was torn between amusement and irritation. He was an ancient Carpathian, which meant he had a couple of thousand years on Andros. Being taken to task as if he were a teenage boy was absurd—and insulting. He just stared at Andros with a blank expression on his face, allowing the man to vent his frustration and anger at the situation.
“Courtship?” Vasilisa echoed, looking up at Afanasiv. “I’m not certain what you mean by ‘courtship,’ Andros.”
“Where did you meet? How long have you been seeing each other? How far has this relationship gone? I don’t think that’s too difficult to understand.” Andros stepped directly in front of his sister, hands on his hips, pouring sarcasm into his voice.
“If you’re going to talk to her, do so with respect. If you can’t manage that, speak only to me,” Afanasiv said, his tone low. Mild. Anyone who knew him would have heeded that warning.
“I’ll speak to my sister any way I wish or think is warranted,” Andros declared.
“You could continue being an arrogant rude ass, but you won’t be speaking to her because you’ll find yourself without a voice,” Afanasiv said. “I don’t give warnings more than once. She’s my lifemate, which means, in Carpathian terms, she is my wife. No one, family or not, speaks to her with disrespect. Especially when she is the one who not only saved your ass, but she saved your brother and your women. At the very least, you could have thanked her.”
There was a long silence. Andros stared at Afanasiv for quite a while before turning back to Vasilisa. “He’s right in that you saved us,Vasi. So did he. We owe you both far more than we can ever repay. Lada would not have lived through another round of torture. I would have done almost anything to spare her.”
He turned away from them and shoved both hands through his hair several times until it was completely disheveled. His hair was dark sable, now interspersed with shimmering silver. “Vasi, you know we already have problems with quite a few of the population believing that a mixed blood between Lycan and Carpathian can’t be tolerated. That’s not even factoring in the Sacred Circle making a comeback. That’s the general population.”
Vasilisa lifted her chin. “It’s too late, Andros. I think you know that. It was too late years ago.”
“Sorina.” Andros said the name in disgust. “I should have put a stop to that friendship, especially when I knew you were off hunting things better left alone.”
“Why didn’t you?” Afanasiv asked. He genuinely wanted to know why Andros had allowed his sister to hunt the undead. “What she was doing was extremely dangerous.”
“I know that now. I didn’t at the time.” Again, Andros ran his hands through his hair in agitation. “I should have been paying more attention to her, but I was serving my time in the military and trying to take care of my duties here. It didn’t occur to me that my baby sister would decide to hunt vampires and demons while I was looking the other way. By the time I realized what she was doing, she was already very good at it and didn’t listen to anything I said.”
“I listened, Andros,” Vasilisa objected. “There was so much work to be done, and I needed to do my share.”
“When you say you are lifemates, and Vasi is your wife, does that mean you claimed her with the ritual binding words without my consent?” Andros suddenly demanded.
“We are lifemates. She is my wife, and she was claimed properly with the ritual binding words. The only consent I needed was Vasilisa’s.” Technically, he hadn’t needed her consent. The ritual bindingwords were imprinted on him before birth. When he found his lifemate, he was bound by their laws to say them to her.
“I am the head of her household. It is my consent you needed, and I did not give it.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Andros.” Grigor threw his arms out to encompass his sister and Afanasiv. “I think it’s a little too late to chastise them. It isn’t going to do you much good to try to play king to some man who is a few hundred years old, either. He’ll laugh at you.”
“Thousand,” Afanasiv corrected. “I am one of the ancients from the monastery. Have no fears that your sister is in good hands. I am quite capable of protecting her.”
Grigor exchanged a long look with his twin. “Thousand years. There you have it.”
“And since we owe both Vasi and Siv our lives, I suppose we could be a little grateful instead of wanting to sentence him to the firing squad.” Garald sounded amused.
“Is that so?” Andros whirled around and faced his brothers. “Do you have any idea what’s going on here? The Sacred Circle has been slowly making a comeback, infiltrating our people and turning them against one another. Forcing them to choose sides. Vasilisa isSange rau. Your sister. For all I know, so is...” Andros gestured toward Afanasiv with disgust.
Afanasiv remained silent. Andros did have a problem. He understood that. All the railing at Vasilisa wouldn’t solve it. Being upset and angry at Afanasiv wouldn’t stop it.
“Dimitri has been our friend for years, and yet he is slowly being ostracized by the very people he has helped to protect over the years. Why? Because he is alsoSange rau. For all I know, all of them are, including Zev Hunter and his lifemate,” Andros continued.