Mikhail glanced at Gregori. There was no getting around the Lycan council leader. He had made up his mind and there would be no changing it. Rolf was not only grief-stricken; he was weighed down with guilt.

“Put the word out to our people. There is trouble coming and we’re leaving.”

“Zev isn’t going to leave the Lycans,” Gregori said. “He’s been their protection for years and it won’t matter that Rolf is being stubborn about this. Zev was born into their culture and, although from a protection standpoint he’d like to get them all out of here, he understands. His brothers will stand with him. Ivory and Razvan as well.”

Mikhail nodded. “I would expect nothing less. If it wasn’t for my responsibilities to our people, I’d stand with them as well. Xavier nearly pushed our species into extinction. Xayvion has nearly done so with the Jaguar race. Xaviero is determined to ruin the Lycans. They have to be stopped.”

Gregori inched Mikhail away from the Lycans. Two more council members had come to honor Arno and with them, their guards. Leaders or representatives of many other packs had arrived as well. Gregori used the common Carpathian path to warn their warriors of the coming danger Dimitri and Skyler had observed in the forest.

Mikhail and Gregori made their way to Zev. Mikhail shook his head sadly when Zev raised an eyebrow. He stepped forward and gripped Zev’s forearms in the traditional way of Carpathian warriors. He was pleased when Zev instinctively gripped his. “You are prepared?”

Zev nodded slowly. “We’ve tried to think of everything that might be thrown at us. I think we’re as prepared as we can be.” Who could ever be fully prepared for mage magic? Not just any mage, but a High Mage?

The sense of urgency in him was growing. He wanted Mikhail gone, far away from the clearing and the fog Dimitri had warned him of. If nearly all Carpathians were wiped out, there would be hope as long as Mikhail lived. Mikhail might chafe the bonds that held him prisoner of his people occasionally, but he knew his duties and Zev could see that he wouldn’t argue with either him or Gregori. He was leaving.

Can you hear them? That’s not just our wolves, Zev, that’s the wild ones. I’ve sent them away.

I hear. The ceremony has started. What is happening out there? Zev stayed calm. Panic caused one to lose the ability to think. He was responsible for the council members, their Lycan guards and all the alphas and representatives that had come from many of the packs.

He motioned to his elite hunters. Daciana’s eyes were swollen and red, something he’d never witnessed in the long years they’d been together. He couldn’t blame her. Losing Arnau was wrenching and adding his father Arno’s death to the mix only added to the sorrow—and guilt.

The fog here is unnatural and not made by any Carpathian, Dimitri reported, using the common Carpathian path. It has a foul feel to it. Skyler says she detects a darker spell within the mist. All wildlife, including birds are retreating from it. Insects are pouring out of the ground.

Smoke rose in the air, the purifying leaves burning white and giving off the sweet odor of jasmine in preparation for the burning of the bodies. Arno and Arnau lay within the flowers and branches of the funeral pyre, high up where their spirits would have an easy ascension.

Daciana, Makoce and Lykaon joined him.

“We’re going to be attacked. Rolf and the others won’t listen to anything I say. They’re insisting on completing the ceremony. Be ready. Stay close to the council members. Any other guards you really trust, warn, and get them to surround the council.”

They didn’t ask questions. He’d known they wouldn’t. He was alpha of their pack and his word was law. They nodded and moved into the crowd surrounding the ceremonial pyre.

Branislava reached out to him, settling her fingers around his wrist as he came up to her. “He’s here, Zev,” she whispered, leaning into him. “I feel his presence.”

Just her light touch made him feel as if he had a home. A haven. She had a way of looking at him that made the world right, even when everything around them seemed to be falling apart.

“We knew he would come, Branka, if for no other purpose than to see the grief his handiwork caused. We knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself.”

Branislava looked around at the precautions and intricate safeguards the Carpathians had used to protect the Lycans as they gathered for the service. “He’s here for a purpose. Not just to thumb his nose and prove his superiority. I know you feel it, too. And now Dimitri has found the mist. It will come creeping out of the forest surrounding us, and there are foul things he could conjure up that can kill.”

“You know him better than anyone else, Branislava. You’ve done a study of these three mages for centuries when no one else knew of their existence. You’re our authority. Tell me what you think he’s going to do.”

He had faith in her ability to defeat Xaviero. She was every bit as skilled and she had the advantage. She’d seen him cast, knew his every spell, where he had never considered her a threat and hadn’t known the three mages were educating a very bright pupil. She just had to believe in herself. He knew she had to overcome the terror instilled in her from her birth.

Branislava chewed nervously on her lower lip. “He’ll want to get as close to the funeral pyre as possible. He would most likely want to give the talk . . .” She trailed off, her eyes meeting Zev’s. She shook her head hastily. “But he wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s exactly what he’d do,” Zev countered. “Can you imagine how smug he would be if he got away with it? Standing in front of Carpathian and Lycan alike and giving what essentially would be a eulogy for the two men he murdered? He wouldn’t need to exact revenge—that alone would reaffirm his superiority.”

Dimitri, how fast is the fog moving toward us? It was imperative to know Xaviero’s timetable. Zev needed to clear out the civilians and prepare the available warriors for battle.

It’s building very slowly. And thick. And very, very foul.

Branislava glanced nervously toward the surrounding forest. That’s not good. I don’t like that insects are pouring out of the ground, either. He’s up to something, something much deadlier than we first thought.

The fog started about a foot off the ground and is now winding up to the top of the trees like thick snakes, Skyler added.

Stay away from it, Branislava advised. Don’t let it touch your skin. And whatever you do, don’t get inside of it.