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Vladik pulled her to him in a deep, brain-blistering kiss that left her with a dopey smile on her face. She was still dazed when he opened the door to a room and led her in. A man was sitting on a bed, reading a book. He looked like Vladik in ten years’ time. Zori had to admit the sight wasn't bad at all.
"Baby brother, you should have warned me you were bringing a guest," he grumbled in a deep voice and ran a hand through his thick hair.
"Misha, this is Zori," Vladik said and took a seat on one of the plush chairs.
Light danced in Misha's gray eyes. "Ah, my savior. Now I know why Vladik was so bashful when he talked about you."
"I don't know about savior, but I'm glad to see you on the mend," Zori said with a smile. "It's nice to finally meet you in person." She went to sit down on the spare chair, but Vladik pulled her into his lap instead. She struggled half-heartedly, and his grip only tightened.
"Let her breathe, Vladislav. You don't have to be marking your territory," Misha said with a disapproving look at his brother.
"Yeah, Vladislav," Zori added cheekily.
"Excellent! You are all here," a deep voice boomed, making them all jump. A tall, broad man strode into the room. He had silver hair, a salt and pepper beard, and bright hazel eyes. Zori sat up a little straighter at the easy authority radiating off him. He put his hands on his hips and looked down at Misha. "You look like shit, my boy."
"Thanks, Aleksandr. I appreciate that," Misha replied with a sigh.
Aleksandr poked him. "Are they feeding you enough? I'll talk to Olena and get her to put extra meat on your plate."
"Don't bother her, old man. I'm fed well enough."
Aleksandr's hazel eyes whipped to Zori, and she had to force herself not to shrink inwards. He surprised her by bowing deeply.
"Zoria Nikolaeva, it is an honor to meet you. I see you have found a throne already, my princess."
"Ah, he wouldn't let me sit anywhere else." Zori blushed vividly. "And I'm just Zori, not a princess."
Aleksandr raised a brow. "Yes, you are. Vladislav, what else haven't you told her?"
Zori had thought that Kaspian had called her princess as some kind of nickname. She turned to look at Vladik.
"I didn't want to overwhelm you. It's only a title," he said, as if it explained everything.
"But Irina is a high priestess, not a tsarina," Zori pointed out.
Aleksandr shrugged and sat down on the other chair. "It's the same thing in Kitezh."
"If you rule the gargoyles, does that make you the tsar?" she asked.
Aleksandr's laughter boomed around the room. "Goddess, no. I keep the rabble in line. We are a matriarchal society, blossom. Irina is the boss, not me. Speaking of which, she told me to bring you both home for dinner tonight."
Zori tried not to pout. She had wanted to stay with Vladik that night but clearly her grandmother had other plans.
"Now, Misha and Zoria, I want you to tell me everything you can about Maxim and his tower of horrors," Aleksandr said. The cheerful fatherly vibes were gone, and suddenly a general was in its place.
"He's a dead man walking," Vladik growled.
Aleksandr's smile sharpened. "I know that much. I want to know how he'd mostly strike against us."
Misha fidgeted with the corners of his battered paperback. Zori didn't feel like talking either. Unlike her, Misha had only seen the violent and vicious side of Maxim. Dark magic rose within her, stars blotting out her eyes.
"Zori?" Vladik asked, but she couldn't answer him.
Zori's hand moved against her will and took Misha's. She held it tightly, her mouth opening. "Tell them everything, dearest child of stone. I need you to get strong once more and fight for me. Find my lost daughters, Mikhail, and I promise, I will help you get revenge on all they did to you."
The stars and darkness cleared, and Zori shuddered back to herself. She was still holding on to Misha's hand. The three gargoyles were staring at her, their eyes as wide as saucers.
"What the hell was that?" Misha whispered, pulling back from her like she was going to bite him.
