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Luka’s hands framed his head as he leaned up and kissed Vasily’s forehead. “It will be all right.”
Shit, he could hide nothing from this man.
Still, he tried. Again. He even managed a smile, or at least, his mouth felt like it was tilting upward. “Maybe he’s meant to be both of ours.”
“Maybe.” Luka’s smile looked just as forced. “We won’t know until we get him out of there. It’s pointless to worry about it until he’s out, right?”
“Right.” All true. But logic didn’t rule over emotions.
If Vasily had a time machine or seer powers, he would have used them in a heartbeat just to find out one way or another. But for all the magic he had access to, this wasn’t one of them. All he could do was wait.
And pray.
Vasily slipped into the water in his dragon form as quick as a seal. He slithered over to Luka, who was also in his dragon form, though only his head was peeking above the waves, like an overgrown caiman escaped from the Amazon River basin. Swishing his tail back and forth, he glided to Luka and bumped their noses together. Vasily honestly could not help himself. Luka in dragon form was an incredibly beautiful sight. All ice dragons leaned toward the silver, white, and light blue spectrum, but Luka was so pale he looked like crystallized snow, like a sculpture given life by magic. His mate let out a huff and nuzzled him before motioning toward the shore.
Evora stood on the grassy bank in a black one-piece bathing suit. Her arms were folded over her chest while a small waterproof plastic bag dangled from a cord wrapped around her wrist. A frown tugged at the corners of her lips and even her nose wrinkled slightly as she eyed the murky water.
Her mate’s expression wasn’t much better. The usually dignified Thiago was pouting. He glared at the water as if it had personally insulted him, his mother, and his entire clan.
“I don’t understand why I can’t accompany you as well,” Thiago grumbled. By Evora’s answering sigh, it was clear this was not the first time Thiago had complained. Vasily dipped lower into the water to hide his smile as he swam toward Evora.
The head of the Valerii mages turned to her mate and pressed a kiss to the point of his chin. “There’s a good chance this mage has been down there for more than five hundred years. The magic protecting him could be fragile. The fewer people traipsing through there until I can get an accurate read on the situation, the better. It’s for my protection as well as the mage’s.” She leaned in to kiss his chin again, but Thiago dipped his head in time to capture her lips.
When they parted, the rigidity had slipped from his shoulders and he nodded. “Just be safe.”
“Luka and Vasily are more than capable of protecting me. We’ll go slow, I promise.”
“You have everything you need? Spell ingredients? Cell phones for pictures?”
Evora chuckled softly, the sound low and throaty. “I have everything.”
Vasily jerked his gaze away from the happy couple as a ripple of unease washed through him. Evora was normally a chilly, standoffish person who maintained a facade of unflappable control and calm. But when she was with her mate, the world caught glimpses of another side to her. Someone surprisingly warm and cuddly, indulgent and passionate.
Sam, meanwhile, was arguing with Dimitri about going in with her. Vasily had absolutely no interest in getting into the middle of that argument either.
When he looked at the shore again, he found Evora carefully wading into the shallows. She winced as she searched for solid footing.
“How far of a swim is it?” she asked as Vasily drew close.
“A good distance. But now that we know where we’re going, it should take less than a minute to reach the grotto.”
Evora sniffed. “As if I’m going to hold my breath the entire time.” The water lapped at her knees as she opened the plastic bag and dug around the contents for something. “We will approach carefully. You and Luka will stop outside the entrance to the grotto to give me a chance to look things over. I’ll signal when we are to continue inside.”
“It didn’t look like there were any wards on the exter—” Vasily stopped talking at simply a look from the mage. He cleared his throat and dipped his head toward the water’s surface. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled. The only people who argued with Evora were King Rodrigo, her mate, and those who didn’t value their lives.
The mage pulled a tiny piece of thin paper from the bag and closed it again. It looked like a piece of pale blue tissue paper, or maybe one of those breath strips. She placed it on her tongue and whispered a word he didn’t catch. Pursing her lips, she blew out as if she was blowing a bubble with gum.
