Zev found himself smiling. His eyes met Mikhail’s. “The council has asked me to interrogate Lyall to find out why he’s committed such a betrayal of not only his lifelong friends, but all Lycans as well.”

Mikhail inclined his head slowly. “I am not a man who believes in torture.”

Lyall smirked. Randall snarled, a low, warning note that raised the hair on the back of Zev’s neck and had Mikhail’s guards whipping around to face the threat. Arno stopped pacing, his body rippling with the effort not to shift into the half man, half wolf that would signal even more danger.

Rolf held up his hand to stop his fellow council members from further action. “No one likes the torture of any being, not even a traitor such as Lyall, but to prevent war, sometimes things none of us like must be done.”

Mikhail shook his head. “It isn’t our way, Rolf, nor will it ever be.”

Randall leapt to his feet as if he would extract the answers needed from Lyall himself.

“I believe we have a satisfactory solution for both parties,” Zev said. “Branislava has offered to interrogate Lyall. She’ll get the necessary information without harming a hair on his head.”

Lyall’s gaze jumped to her face. He glared at her, but then looked rather amused. “A Carpathian can’t invade my mind no matter how hard they try. Do you think I’m afraid of her? Or that I’ll answer her questions because she’s beautiful? She might enslave Zev, but I’m stronger than that.”

Branislava smiled at him. Her green eyes glowed with the fire of the dragon burning so bright in her. She glided closer to Lyall. Her long, thick hair crackled with energy. Power radiated from her. Her skin had a radiance Zev had never noticed before. She was truly beautiful, and Zev couldn’t imagine any man resisting her, let alone the older Lycan who had spent a lifetime chasing women.

“Did you think I might sleep with you to get the information from you?” Amusement dripped from her voice like warm honey. “Aw, I see that you did. I have to disappoint you, sir, I only sleep with one man, and that wouldn’t be you.”

The chamber had gone utterly silent. Even Randall had ceased snarling and once more shifted back to his human form. Arno settled into his chair. All eyes were riveted on Branislava. Zev folded his arms across his chest, simply waiting. He had seen the power in his woman on more than one occasion. Lyall didn’t stand much of a chance against her.

“What then?” Suspicion settled on Lyall’s face. He scowled at her. “Do you think I’ll be so intimidated because you come close to me? That perhaps Zev can move fast enough to protect you if I choose to kill you instead of talk to you?” He held his hands straight in the air to show he was not bound.

“Have no worries,” Zev said. “I am Hän ku pesäk kaikak—guardian of all, and I have been for some time, Lyall. Each of the Sange rau you have sent to kill me or one of the others has failed. You’re a hypocrite to secretly use the very creature you publicly condemn against our people. None of them were faster. Are you mixed blood? I have seen you walk in the sun. If you were, you would be unable to do so. You cannot possibly be faster than me, should I choose to strike you down.”

Lyall sneered at him. “Why would you ever say such a thing to me? You walk in the sun as well. How is it you can when no other Sange rau can? Do you think to lie to me? That I would believe such nonsense? You are so arrogant, puffed up with your own importance.”

Zev had never asked himself that question. He hadn’t realized he had mixed blood for a very long time and when he had become suspicious, he’d dismissed the idea because he could carry out his duties in midday. He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to believe me, but if you’re considering suicide by elite hunter, I would not kill you, not before Branka has had the chance to question you.”

“He is Dark Blood,” Mikhail said. “The ultimate warrior. He is of Carpathian descent and the last of his line. Few could ever defeat a Dark Blood in battle, and the women who were their lifemates were every bit as fierce and as gifted. He can walk in the sun because he is Dark Blood.”

Zev felt Branislava gasp, but she didn’t change expressions or even glance at him. Still, he felt her touch, that hot slide of her palm against his chest—such a casual gesture but so intimate when his lifemate initiated the caress mind to mind.

Branislava smiled at Lyall, her soft, gentle, perfect smile, the one that lit up Zev’s world. It seemed to have an effect on the Lycan as well. He lowered his hands, twisting his fingers together, and stared at her with a look of admiration and puzzlement.

“Before you make your try to interrogate me, I wish to answer the charge Zev has laid against me. I have no idea what he’s talking about when he says I used the Sange rau against our people. I am not one of those abominations nor would I ever seek to align myself with one. Had I known Zev is what he claims, I would have issued the death sentence against him, commanding those loyal to our ways to have him killed immediately.”

“You sound so righteous,” Rolf said quietly, “yet you tried to assassinate the prince of the Carpathian people and kill all of us.”

“I follow the doctrines and principles of the Lycan race.” Lyall glared at Rolf. “To come here was wrong. We were warned never to mix with Carpathians. It is written in the sacred code and yet you, head of our council, agreed to such a meeting. You betrayed our kind, not me.”

Arno made a soft sound, a mixture of despair and anger. “You’ve been my best friend since we were boys together, Lyall, yet you were willing to murder me. You stood for me at my joining ceremony. I don’t understand how you could do such a thing.”

Lyall had the grace to look slightly ashamed. His gaze avoided Arno’s. “I tried talking to you numerous times over the last few years. You kept sitting on the fence.” His tone grew accusing. “You wouldn’t commit to doing what was right, even though you knew what you should do and how you should vote. The women’s issue was the clincher for me. And coming here, to this place, to these people.” His voice swelled with disgust. “You followed like a little lamb being led to the slaughter.”

“Do you think we don’t know about Xaviero?” Zev asked.

Lyall frowned. “I have no idea who or what you’re talking about.”

Branislava shook her head. “No, of course you wouldn’t. He would never go by that name. He would be an older man, but not too old because he would want the admiration of the women and girls around him. He would be very good-looking, and soft-spoken, but his word would carry great weight. He would be a man you admire greatly, perhaps the only man you look up to. He would not be able to hide his very distinctive eyes. They glow like silver.”