The edge of his axe caught Tatyana’s arm, which was covered by the thick fur-lined riding coat. She felt the edge of the blade against her skin, but the cut was shallow. Within seconds she had pulled the axe from the man’s fumbling grip, spun around, and struck, taking his head off with one stroke.
Ludmila, still on the ground, grinned at her with lethal fangs.
“Knyaginya,” she muttered with a smile.
“Come on!”
“Tanya!”
She heard Sándor’s voice in the snowstorm, but she didn’t stop, running toward the growing glow of fire that was lighting up the darkness.
She leaped over fallen warriors in bloody coats. She swung out at anyone who came after her with a blade, and Sándor flew at her side, diving down with his curved sword, slashing Ivan’s men and knocking them to the ground where Tatyana and Ludmila finished them off.
When she reached the perimeter of Oleg’s fire, she froze in awestruck horror and wonder, the snow around her turning to steam as it reached the heated vortex of his flames.
There was a ring of fire surrounding her mate, his shirt had turned to ashes, and steam rose from his bare shoulders.
The swirling snow around him vaporized as he stalked across the field. The ground beneath him was thick mud. Vampires and humans screamed and ran in terror as he approached.
The tents set up for spectators caught on fire, and wagons and carriages were already burning.
“Ivan!”
There was a black mark on Oleg’s chest where the arrow had turned to ash, but even as he walked, the ground beneath him rocked and rolled with the combined energy of dozens of earth vampires on the attack.
Tatyana saw Hazar and white-coated vampires darting through the snow-covered forest, flashes of bright red blood falling like rain to the ground.
“Ivan!” Oleg roared his brother’s name again. “You send your sons to fight your battles?”
Tatyana drew as much water around her as she could manage as she walked toward him; an arrow that flew over her shoulder turned to ash when his fire caught it midair.
“Oleg!” she cried out, and he turned to her.
Their eyes met, and Tatyana nodded and raised her axe.
Oleg’s fangs cut his lips when he smiled. “My queen.” He pointed at Ludmila. “Do not leave her side!”
As he spoke, an axe flew through the fiery perimeter, the shaft burning away but the head flipping end over end, flashing in the bright red and gold flames, making straight for Oleg’s skull.
Chapter 31
Oleg
That fool.
Oleg turned from Tatyana—who had Sándor hovering over her and Ludmila at her side—as he batted away the axe-head Ivan had thrown his way. Now he knew what direction Ivan was coming from.
He turned to stalk toward the source of the attack, his fire devouring the snow around him until he was trudging through bloody, rippling mud.
His brother’s loyalists were losing momentum as the few soldiers in Rudov’s company who had turned on the guests along with Ivan’s clan were cut down by the combined forces of the Kievan Rus and the Poshani. There were shouts of confusion as the majority of Oleg’s empire turned on them.
“What did you tell them, brother?” Oleg shouted into the night. “Did you lie and say that the others would follow their lead?”
As Oleg stalked through the snow, he threw a bolt of fire toward any of the red-coated vampires wearing Truvor’s crest.
“Did you tell them you would be king?”
One by one, the soldiers wearing Truvor’s crest fell, either by fire or axe as those loyal to Oleg sided against them, wrested their weapons away, or trapped them with elemental power.
