Page 14 of Dark Hope (Dark Carpathians #38)
Chapter 14
Benedek found that the door to the house opened on its own before he raised a finger to the bell. Both women were seated in their favorite sitting room. There were low flames in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The house gave off the feeling of peace. He found the atmosphere soothing, even though he rarely went into a human home.
He had never liked to be cooped up. He’d always preferred the outdoors, the mountains and forests. He knew he always would, but he also knew he had to adapt to more modern ways. The wilderness areas were dwindling, and his species had to work harder to hide themselves.
Silke’s home was a surprise with the safeguards pressed into the stone. It was cool in the heat and warm in the cold. The natural stone and ancient wood spoke to him. Everything about the house called to him, even though it had been modernized from the original build.
Silke sat in a comfortable chair, wrapped in her mother’s handwoven shawl. It was really a long cape with a hood. Her hands were in her lap, and she passed the material through her fingers, rubbing the threads as if drawing comfort from the covering.
“Fenja,” he greeted with a slight bow. “I trust you are feeling well.” He knew she wasn’t.
Fenja might be able to hide the pain she was in from Silke—although he doubted it. She couldn’t conceal her health problems from him, and he hadn’t even examined her. He glanced uneasily at Silke. She knew. She was doing her best not to react, but her fingers were twisting together in the shawl. He had the unexpected urge to gather her into his arms and sit holding her while he discussed with Fenja whether she would allow him to aid her.
“This time of life is always a little difficult,” Fenja admitted. “The shedding of one’s physical body is never easy, I’ve found.”
Silke brought her hand up to her throat. “You are a witte wieven , then, a spirit walker.” Her voice came out strangled. She choked on the statement.
Be courageous for her, Benedek advised gently. This is very difficult for her because she doesn’t want to transition now that she has you.
Silke didn’t look at him, but he felt her in his mind. Clinging to him. Turning to him for strength. He wanted that from her, even needed it. She was very independent and acted as if she could handle life on her own. She most likely could. He had wanted that—at least he had until he met Silke. He surrounded her with warmth, holding her close in his mind, giving her what he could when they both needed to face the truth with her mother.
Fenja’s nod was slow in coming. “I prefer wise woman or healer. I take care of ailments, whether they are spiritual, mental or physical. I dedicated my existence to that end. After walking the earth for centuries, I was ready to go home, but then you came along, Silke. My greatest joy. You have made all those years of serving others worth it, my beloved daughter. Every transition, the long days spent living in new eras, learning new ways.”
She looked across the room to Benedek, her gaze sharp and assessing. He could see the wise woman. The woman who had spent her life aiding others. She had walked the land, seen things only familiar to ancients. War. Troubles between species. The dwindling of those species lost for various reasons.
“I know you. Your tenacity and strength of will. I would not give my daughter to just any man. She’s extraordinary, and her partner needs to understand that about her. They need to see and appreciate her strengths but also see her vulnerabilities.”
“Mother,” Silke said softly.
Benedek heard the ache in her voice. Felt it in the region of his heart. There were tears in her mind, but she didn’t show them to her mother. That soft protest was her way of telling Fenja she was embarrassed to be described in such glowing terms.
She is right about you. I have discovered these things on my own. I came here determined to walk side by side with you, but I didn’t think there would be emotion involved. I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling emotion for anyone. I feel it for you.
“No, child, let me talk to Benedek. This is important to me. I know he is Carpathian. I know he has suffered betrayal of the worst kind. I saw what was done to him and his iron will to survive it. I knew he lived to bring others to justice, Carpathians and vampires and any others who took advantage of the weak.”
“It was you,” Silke said. “The shawl. That long beautiful shawl I am wrapped in right now. I feel you when I have it around me. I’m never lonely when you tuck it close. You were wearing it when you went to Benedek’s aid.” This time there was awe in Silke’s voice. “He showed me the memory of what those horrible people did to him. I couldn’t understand how he lived through such a horrific attack.”
“We heard his call for aid. He sent it on the ancient pathway, not the Carpathian one. He used the ancient forest, the trees and the mushrooms running beneath the ground. He called to Mother Earth, and we were close. We are seers and we knew we would be needed.”
“I thank you for saving my life. You and the others returned often and called to me to give me blood. Your kindness was remembered throughout the centuries.”
“Others were not so kind,” Fenja recalled. “There was a young woman being trained as a medicinal healer. She apprenticed under one of the other spirits who provided for you.”
“The betrayer,” Benedek said. He spoke in his usual low voice, the rasp pronounced. Inside, where rage burned beneath the glacier, hot glittery fury leapt like magma from a deep pool. He saw in splashes of red and had to take a deliberate breath. “She came very close to getting me killed that day.”
Fenja nodded. “I remember. She sold your resting place out to a group of vampire hunters.”
“She knew the difference between vampires and Carpathians,” Benedek said. He kept his tone mild. “She wanted their money and the trinkets they offered.”
“Yes, but she wasn’t the only one to blame that day. Her mentor was a seer. How did she not know that Evangelica would betray all of us? She not only told the vampire hunters where your location was, but she also implied to them the medicine women were worshipers of the vampire and his servants.”
“I was unaware she had betrayed you as well,” Benedek admitted. “I was awakened by Mother Earth and heard them digging above me. The sun was still up and I was in the paralysis of our kind.”
“How did you escape them?” Silke asked.
Benedek shrugged, looking more casual than ever, when he didn’t feel that way. He had memories. Those memories should have faded. He had been in enough conversations with his brethren to know their memories were long gone. There were no childhood vignettes running around in their minds to haunt them. He didn’t know which was worse, remembering every betrayal or losing all memories of one’s family.
“Benedek?” Silke prompted.
“Mother Earth delayed them. Earthquakes made it impossible for them to dig. While the earth trembled, she constructed solid rock around me. I was encased in that rock their shovels couldn’t break to get through to me. They were in a frenzy, seized by a kind of madness. That was when I understood true fanaticism. There would have been no talking to them. They only had the desire to kill. They believed me to be vampire, and they were determined to find me.”
“How did you escape them?” Silke asked her mother. “They must have come after you.”
“They did. They murdered Colleen first and then Maeve. Evangelica’s mentor was Sabine. I believed her to be involved in the conspiracy to kill us all. When I tried to see her and her motives, she deliberately muddied the images. She was very adept. I was new to that world and not yet so strong. I ran. I tried to get to the meadow to warn you, but they were already there, with Evangelica urging them to dig faster, to beat the setting sun. Then the earthquakes began. Creatures came out of the forest and attacked the men who were digging. I left those lands, but I already knew you would escape.”
“You saw that in the future?” Silke asked.
Fenja nodded. “Yes, I saw the sunset and his attack on them. Even as weak as he was, he managed to kill them all. And Evangelica. She tried to sneak up behind him with a shovel, and he brought down the lightning. Even though I wasn’t present and just had the vision, I felt satisfaction in knowing she died. She had killed two of my friends.”
“What of Sabine?” Silke asked.
“I ran across her years later,” Fenja said. “She didn’t live through our meeting.”
Benedek felt Silke’s shock.
Witte wieven do not kill. They are healers, Benedek, gentle souls who save lives, not take them.
“When you met Sabine again,” Benedek said, “did she try to kill you?”
Fenja sent a small smile. “How did you know? I knew before she made her try what she was doing. She must have forgotten that medicine women are often seers. I have a strong gift. I guess that she didn’t. She came at me with a knife. She waited until my back was turned, but I knew what she intended because I saw it in a vision.”
“It was still taking a chance with your life, Mama.”
Benedek couldn’t help looking at his woman. She sounded distressed, as if Fenja had just met the woman instead of the meeting taking place years before Silke was born. In another life. Silke couldn’t conceive of being centuries old. Fenja had transitioned several times, unlike him. He had simply lived his life, the centuries passing, time meaning little. Fenja had chosen to return as a witte wieven to serve others.
In their way, all three of them had chosen a life of duty to others. All lived by a code of honor. The one other person Silke was close to was Tora. She also had chosen a life of service and lived by a code of honor.
“Not so much of a chance,” Fenja said. “I knew I would transition. I wanted to come back. I foresaw my future and knew if I continued to return, my reward would happen in this life. You would come to me.” She sent Benedek a smile. “I knew you would arrive in time to help us defeat Lilith’s army. And that you would be perfect for my daughter.”
“You never said one word to me about Benedek,” Silke objected.
“You have to find your way, my little one. You always have. You needed to arrive at the truth, that you two were made for each other.” She sent Benedek a small smile. “She can be stubborn. Her best and worst trait.”
He could hear the love in her voice. It was stark and very real. She knew her fate and was doing her best to prepare her daughter.
“Do you plan to transition again?” If he could help Silke to accept what was happening with Fenja, he would do so.
“I would very much like to have grandchildren of my own,” Fenja said. “To do so, I must transition.”
Silke gasped and leaned toward her mother, pulling the shawl closer around her. “Are you certain?”
“I have repeated this cycle several times, Silke. I knew my body was wearing out, but I was determined to see you settled before I went. I want to know you’re safe and happy. I wanted to see it for myself.”
Benedek felt Silke’s sorrow. It weighed on him, a pressure in his chest. His every instinct was to go to her, gather her close and hold her in his arms to give her as much comfort as possible. Merged as he was in her mind, he could feel her silently weeping. That was worse to him than if she had sobbed aloud. She held herself rigid, putting on a brave face for her mother yet feeling as if she were breaking apart inside.
Sivamet. He whispered the endearment into her mind, calling her his heart because he realized she was fast becoming just that. He might not have known what love was, but he’d found it in a woman. I am with you. He surrounded her with his strength. Sent her waves of the emotion he felt for her. Love? Who knew? He didn’t. He only knew she would always be his first priority. He knew that with every fiber and cell of his being.
This is shattering me, she admitted, the little sob catching in the voice merging in his mind. I’m breaking into little pieces and I’ll never be whole again.
You will, Silke. I will find every single piece and put you back together. Hold you close to me. Keep you safe. She will return. Fenja has a will of iron, a trait she has given to you. Be happy knowing she will leave this world and shed the painful physical body she has and return to you and our children without that burden. She’ll be free to enjoy her grandchildren.
Silke turned her head to look at him, letting him see the heavy sorrow she kept from her mother. She didn’t want to add her grief to Fenja’s burden. Will we have children for her to enjoy? Will we be where she can easily find us? I don’t know the Carpathian ways.
He felt the anxiety in her and he couldn’t take it. He did the unthinkable, his body moving of its own volition. He rose and went to her, crouching down in front of her, framing her face with his large hands.
“ O jel? sielamak , we will prearrange a place to meet your mother again. Have no fears. She is a traveler, a spirit walker. She has done this numerous times and will have left herself markers. Wherever she needs us to be, we will be. And we can give her dozens of grandchildren.”
Fenja laughed aloud, and immediately Silke swung her gaze to her mother, clearly astonished by the laughter breaking up the tension.
“Well, really, Silke,” Fenja said. “Dozens? I think your man might need to rein his ambitions in just a little bit.”
“Multiple births are common in my family,” Benedek announced with a straight face.
Silke’s gaze swung back to him and then she laughed, dispelling the last of the tension in the room. Filling it with her magic. Her sunshine. Her moonlight.
“You don’t remember your birth family. That is a blatant and very outrageous lie.”
He found himself smirking. “Tomas, Lojos and Mataias are triplets. Multiple births. They may not be related to me, but I do know a few twins and triplets. It could happen with my rather astounding prowess.”
Silke turned bright red. “You did not just brag in front of my mother.”
“She said she wanted to ensure you were in good hands. Well taken care of.” He did his best to sound saintly and pious as he returned to his chair.
“I did say that,” Fenja admitted.
“Don’t encourage him,” Silke said. “He’s already thinking he’s all that.”
Deliberately he leaned back in the chair, sliding one arm in a casual drape over the wide armrest. “I am all that. It’s good for you to know your lifemate is capable of providing anything you want or need.”
“Providing dozens of children might just be over the top,” Fenja said.
“Don’t say dozens ,” Silke protested. “He might fixate on that number.”
“We will have centuries to produce many children,” Benedek pointed out with total confidence, teasing her. He’d never teased anyone in his life, and he found he was enjoying himself despite the situation. “Although we’ll need to have a few for Fenja to dote on right away.”
“I’m about to fight off demons. Hordes of them. I don’t think getting pregnant will be helpful.”
Benedek raised his eyebrow, looking to Fenja for confirmation. “Wasn’t it just a few centuries ago when women strapped their babies to their front and went to war? I am certain it was a common practice.”
“I’m armed,” Silke reminded him.
Fenja laughed again. Benedek could see where Silke got that magical quality in her voice. He’d thought she’d been born with it, but she had Fenja’s laugh. Silke’s tone was more compelling, but the lightness and invitation to join in was there in her mother’s voice. He hoped their children would have that same laughter.
“You have a little time, Benedek,” Fenja said, sobering. “I want to stick around long enough to see you both through the coming war with Lilith’s army.”
He felt Silke go on instant alert. What is it?
She is a seer. If she is determined to stay with us through the war with Lilith’s army, there is a good chance she has seen something in the future that she wants to prevent. That would be like her.
Benedek leaned forward in the chair, no longer with the pretense of being casual or amused. “Fenja, are you concerned that Silke won’t live through the coming war?”
Fenja appeared flustered, disconcerted to be so openly called out. She wasn’t used to anyone being direct with their demands, and it showed on her face.
“There can be no question that Silke will live. If she lives, you must as well. I have seen visions of how you battle the enemy, Benedek. You have no regard for your life. You are capable of brilliant strategies, but you prefer to face your opponent in brutal physical combat.”
“To destroy a vampire, one must be able to remove the heart. That necessitates being close to one.” He was unsure of having the conversation in front of Silke. She hadn’t been worried about him, certain of his abilities. Fenja was casting doubts on the outcome. He had thought she had been referring to Silke making it through the coming war alive, but perhaps Fenja was concerned with his ability to stay alive. Had she seen his death? Would she tell him?
“Does it?” Fenja asked. “Is it really necessary to stand in front of such creatures with them tearing the flesh from your bones, ripping you apart with poisonous teeth and claws? You risk becoming infected by their parasites. The acid in their blood burns through your flesh, your muscle down to the bone. The wounds you and your friends sustain are severe and could easily incapacitate or kill you.”
Benedek heard the reprimand in her voice as if he were a foolish boy choosing combat with monsters for the fun of it.
Is that what you do? Silke caught his thought.
His first inclination was to protest. He was a Carpathian hunter without emotion. He had been doing his duty for centuries. The idea that he was intentionally risking his life for fun was ludicrous and somewhat insulting. He remained silent, his gaze burning over the old woman.
There was silence in the room, other than the crackling of the fire. No one spoke. Fenja sat very straight in her chair, her thin body nearly transparent. She had lived lifetimes, perhaps not the way he had, but she had seen the changes in the world and adapted to them. She had to. She lived her life surrounded by others.
Benedek didn’t pay much attention to modern ways. He took information from people’s minds and learned rapidly, keeping up with the times. But he didn’t live around others and had never had a desire to do so. He knew he was a dangerous, aggressive man. The human men he’d encountered were often ones he considered petty and childish or perverted men who needed to be removed. He’d been bringing justice for so long in his society that it was difficult not to do the same in the human one. His solution had been to avoid them as much as possible.
But to say he was purposely endangering his life when he didn’t have to?
You aren’t protesting or explaining further, Silke pointed out. Her voice was gentle. Compelling. An invitation to a discussion.
Benedek found himself turning inward, examining his motives. His true characteristics. He hadn’t changed the way he fought vampires other than to become more aggressive. Fenja was right in that he sought them out and faced them without thinking beyond the combat. The battle. That rush he had gotten once the whispers of temptation had ceased and he’d spent centuries in a gray void.
He’d killed too many times, taken all those lives. It may have been a life of duty that he’d chosen and lived with his code of honor, but one didn’t take lives without repercussions. He had been aware of that all along. His brethren in the monastery discussed the topic often and how they had all gone over that line. He knew when he began to feel the rush in combat, that he often prolonged the battle to keep that feeling going. He also knew the scars on his soul were irreparable.
He hated to admit that Fenja was right. He hadn’t tried to find alternative ways of destroying the undead because he wanted—even needed—to feel that rush. To feel something. He had become addicted to that brief moment in time when his world was no longer simply a void.
I have you to consider.
“Perhaps if you came up with different methods of fighting the undead, there would be fewer injuries to your fellow hunters as well,” Silke said aloud. “That would enable you, especially in the war with Lilith, to be far more effective.”
He didn’t need her to tell him that, and she knew it. She was speaking out loud for the sake of her mother.
“I see your point, Fenja,” he conceded. “I believe modernizing the way we destroy the undead would be the intelligent thing to do. I’ll give it some thought. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
It was the right thing to say to Silke’s mother. He felt Silke’s instant caress stroking along the walls of his mind. When he rested his gaze on her, she had a look on her face that lit his world. She looked at him like he was a white knight, someone she admired and respected. Someone she was beginning to feel real affection for. He found he wanted affection from her. In the beginning, he thought having her loyalty and respect would be enough. Now he knew that wasn’t so. He wanted much, much more.
“I don’t know how you’ve managed, Silke, but you changed my life. My way of thinking.” He turned his attention to her mother. “Fenja, you raised an incredible person. She’s far more than I ever could have imagined.”
Silke blushed. He liked that faint rose color flooding her skin. She looked even more beautiful to him.
Fenja inclined her head. “I agree she is exceptional. But I can’t take the credit. I wish I could. She’s brought me more joy, more happiness and contentment, than I knew existed in this world. I know she’ll do the same for you.”
“Okay, you two, you’re embarrassing me. I’m not all that.”
“You’re all that to me,” Fenja said firmly. Again, she turned her gaze on Benedek. “She has all the confidence in the world when it comes to fighting demons, but she lacks it in other areas. You’ll need to be aware of her insecurities and help her.”
“Mother.” Silke pressed her hands to her rosy cheeks. “Seriously. Stop. You’re making me sound like I’m two. Benedek is here to examine you and see if he can help your physical state. I know you’ve said your body is wearing out. I accept that, but I would feel much better knowing you’re as comfortable as possible. I’m asking you to please allow Benedek to aid you.”
Fenja was silent for a moment looking at her daughter, her expression soft with love. Benedek might not know how to feel that emotion, but he recognized it when he saw it so plainly. It moved him when nothing over the centuries ever had. He had never considered the genuine love a mother would feel for her child.
He’d never known that kind of love. Not ever. He hadn’t known it existed.
“I have no doubt your birth mother loved you, Benedek,” Silke said aloud. Her tone was low, but very certain. “You may not have those memories, but you have a code of honor and great capacity to care, or you wouldn’t be the hunter you are.”
His gut clenched. Knotted. Where that well of rage was hidden beneath the ice-cold glacier, he felt his fury stir. He wasn’t the man she insisted she could see. Even with her influence, he doubted he would ever feel much for others. He trusted very few people. His trust was hard-won.
“Don’t think I have a great capacity to care, o jel? sielamak . You will only end up disappointed in your choice. See me as I am, not how you wish me to be.”
“I am in your mind, Benedek,” she reminded. “I see into you and read you, perhaps better than you read yourself. You tend to push all emotion aside, so you think you don’t feel it, but you do. You simply don’t acknowledge what you’re feeling. I suspect most Carpathian hunters are like you in that they don’t recognize their emotions.”
“Perhaps emotions are buried so deep you can’t find them, the way you can’t find the memory of your birth parents,” Fenja ventured.
Benedek shook his head, uncomfortable with the discussion. Any reference to his birth parents, even discussions he’d had in the monastery, made him uneasy. Guilty. Ashamed even. As a toddler, he had believed Marius was his father and Fawn was his mother. He had tried hard to be a good child so they would love him. It hadn’t occurred to him when he was a baby that they were damaged. That revelation came much later, when he was approaching his teenage years, and he’d given up pleasing Fawn. He had come to recognize the madness in her. It had taken longer with Marius. That disclosure came when he saw the brutal attacks and horrific demands on the villagers.
“You aren’t responsible for their deaths,” Silke said.
“Don’t go there.” He poured a firm command into his voice. His rasp was more pronounced than ever, a clue to his inner turmoil. Any of the brethren could have told her the raspier his voice, the more dangerous he became.
“Am I responsible for the death of my mother in childbirth? Had she not gotten pregnant with me, she would still be alive.”
Silke ignored his low warning. She had to be in his mind, witnessing the rising fury beneath all the glacier, but she persisted in ignoring his command.
“Make me understand how you could have possibly been responsible for them. I truly don’t see it.”
Why are you insisting on this discussion when I clearly have made the topic off-limits? He narrowed his eyes at her. You don’t want to hear your mother is close to death, he accused . You’re like a child refusing to acknowledge the cycle of life, and to do that, you want to use me, use a very sensitive subject, to get your way.
The minute he flung the ridiculous accusation at her, he knew he’d screwed up in a big way. He felt the flash of anger before her instant withdrawal. The room almost glowed red, the tension thick. She sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
He should have apologized instantly. He knew he was in the wrong, but she was just far too gorgeous and intriguing with that little spurt of temper. She couldn’t be perfect to live with him, yet she was exactly that—perfect. Everything about her appealed to him.
That was uncalled-for and disrespectful when you know I was trying to help you. Maybe I should have backed off when you told me to, but I didn’t deserve a nasty remark like that.
Benedek liked that she stood up to him. It would matter later in their relationship. He would never be able to handle a partner who didn’t think for herself or stand up for her convictions.
You’re right, o jel? sielamak, I was out of line. There is no excuse, so I won’t try to make one. I’ll work at being better. He was sincere in that promise and hoped she could see and hear his honesty.
“I knew your parents, Benedek,” Fenja said unexpectedly. “My first transition was in that region of the Carpathian Mountains. It was wild. There were a few scattered villages, and I had a mentor who would work with me. I knew if I went anywhere else, I’d have to acquire more knowledge on my own. I could do that, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fast and I would lose out on helping those who needed me.”
His heart contracted. His mouth went dry. He closed the fingers of his left hand into a tight fist but placed his right palm over his heart. He didn’t look at his lifemate. She would feel the emotions he was feeling. None of them were good. Why hadn’t Fenja led with that? She played everything close to her chest. He couldn’t exactly fault her when he was the same way.
I am with you. Whatever she tells you, I am with you.
Silke’s warmth filled every dark lonely place in his mind. It was strange not to feel alone after centuries of loneliness. He hadn’t recognized that he’d been lonely until she filled him up with light and warmth.
“Your mother was young. Her name was Aerian, and just as her name implies, she was ethereal. Beautiful. In those days there were no surnames, but Radut, your father, told me you came from two lineages that were legendary in your species. Ordinarily, Carpathians had their own healers, but the two lived far from others in the forest, up in the mountains. They had planned to have the baby alone, without help. That was done as well in those days.”
Fenja flashed Silke a small smile. “Not too far from what Benedek was saying about women having babies and taking them into battle. Aerian ran into trouble, and her lifemate put out a call for any healer to come at once and help.”
Benedek couldn’t take his eyes off the older woman. She was very sincere. Everything she said was the truth. He couldn’t remember his birth parents, but she held the key to unlock what little he had stored away.
“I knew of Carpathians but had only met the occasional hunter. Aerian was extraordinary. She felt light. Airy. She was in pain, but she was sweet and kind. She wanted the baby to live. She began bargaining with her husband. She told him she knew a Carpathian male would rarely survive the passing of a lifemate without going into a thrall and either following her or becoming the undead. She told him he had to be strong, that she knew he was strong, and we were to save the baby, not her, if it came down to one of them. He was to remain alive and care for their son. She had every faith he would do just that. According to my mentor, that was something impossible she asked of her lifemate, and yet she was certain he would love and care for their child alone.”
Benedek shook his head. “That would be impossible.”
“And yet he swore to her he would do so. He also made it very clear to us that we were to save both . He wanted his son and wife alive. We had a long, hard task in front of us, but Aerian was quietly determined. In the end, there was blood loss and terrible pain, which she endured stoically, but both patients lived. I never saw two people happier to have their child. You came from extraordinary Carpathians. Rest assured they both wanted you alive and well. They both fought hard, and it was a long, frightening battle.”
Fenja leaned forward in her chair to look Benedek directly in the eye. “Even you, an unborn babe in trouble, lent your strength to your mother. You had tremendous power even as an infant. Never think you weren’t wanted or that you in any way caused your parents’ deaths. Marius did that. He brought Fawn with him and she participated. They ambushed Radut and Aerian.”
Benedek could feel the fury rising. Marius had taught him that ugly emotion, but Radut and Aerian had given him the genetics to combat learned behavior.
“Radut would never have conceived that a Carpathian with a lifemate would attack them. Fawn often participated in Marius’ raids. Having her there only added to the feeling of camaraderie the two would have craved,” Benedek acknowledged.
Before he could say anything else, Fenja sent him a determined look. “I’m ready for you to examine me and see if you can aid me to keep from transitioning until after Lilith’s army attacks.”
“Anything I find, I will not keep from Silke,” he warned.
Fenja nodded. “That is acceptable.”