Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)

Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3) Page 28

She clung to the love in his voice and in his words. "I'd never do anything to hurt them. Or you."

He pulled back to look down at her. "I know that."

With her fingertips, she traced his mouth. "You've become my life, Paenther. I can't let you suffer if I can help you. I can't let you die if I can do something to save you." I can't live without you. But the last she kept to herself. Because, despite his declarations of love, she realized now that not once had he talked about the future, most importantly, a future that included her.

He stroked her damp cheek. "Lyon has called the Shaman to unbind your magic. We'll do the power raising as soon as you're ready."

"Lyon agrees?"

"He does."

"That's good." But a host of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She'd wanted them to give her a chance, but now that she was getting it, she was suddenly overcome with doubts of her own. What if she couldn't pull it off?

Paenther looked at her quizzically. "What's the matter?"

"What if I forget the words?"

He kissed her forehead. "I remember them. We're going to make this work. Together."

A head pushed between them, that of a big black Lab looking for attention.

"Jealous thing," Skye scolded fondly, laughter in her voice.

Ignoring the dog, Paenther kissed her one more time, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, as she savored the heady taste of him. But the dog refused to be ignored, and she started to laugh.

With a chuckle, Paenther released her and stepped back. "Go ahead. They deserve a little of your time, and the Shaman won't be here for at least an hour. Not with the sudden turn of bad weather."

She saw the glimmer of humor in his eyes and laughed. How was it possible to love another person so much that she honestly wondered if her heart would simply stop if his did? As she turned to her animals, her joy flickered and died beneath the weight of her fears.

What if she couldn't help Paenther at all?

Chapter Twenty-one

Two hours later, the Ferals and their mates trudged through the snow-blanketed woods. As they climbed down to a broad, flat stone, the goddess stone, Skye stared down at the glory of the raging Potomac River far below.

Though the snow had ended a while ago, the wind still whipped, cold and biting.

Paenther pulled her against him. "We'll call a Feral Circle to enclose the magic and keep out prying eyes."

Lyon joined them. "Kara's going to pull the radiance to melt the snow so Skye's feet don't freeze." His hand went to Paenther's shoulder. "Wish you could join us, B.P. Maybe if this works..."

Skye shivered, and Paenther pulled the leather coat he'd loaned her tighter around her. All she wore beneath was a thin, flimsy sleeveless silk gown. A ritual gown, Kara had called it. Kara and Delaney had taken her aside to dress her, choosing a beautiful gown of a vibrant blue they said brought out the color in her eyes.

"Once we're ready, we'll call down the power of the panther." Lyon looked at her. "I want you to wait outside the circle with Kara and Delaney until I call you. Then you can do...whatever it is you do."

Skye nodded, leaning back against Paenther as she watched the other Ferals gather around Kara, the five huge males dwarfing the woman. Lyon took Kara's hands while the others touched her neck or arms or ankles.

Skye had seen this once before, in her prison cell, and looked for a repeat with anticipation.

"Ready?" Kara asked.

"Do it, little Radiant," Lyon replied quietly.

Just like that, Kara lit up as if she'd swallowed two dozen lightwicks. The effect was even more amazing outside beneath the clouds. She looked like an angel come to Earth. Or the sun in human form.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Delaney breathed, standing beside her, the collar of her own coat turned up against the wind. "I'll never get used to this stuff."

Skye met the other woman's gaze, seeing warmth and intelligence, a strong soul and friendship in those dark eyes. She smiled warmly in return. "It is amazing."

Around Kara's and the men's feet, the snow melted as if someone were warming the stone from within. When Kara's light went out, the men stepped back, stripping to the waist. Golden armbands wrapped around thick arms glowed dimly beneath the heavy clouds. To a man, the Ferals were beautifully built, powerful and strong. But the only one who set her heart to racing was the one at her back.

Paenther gave her a squeeze, then released her to turn her in his arms. The warmth of his hands seeped into her bare flesh beneath the coat's leather. "Are you ready?"

The warm scents of leather and male cut through the cold air, heating her blood. As she stared into his dark eyes, she told him the truth. "I'm scared that I might not help you. Otherwise, I'm ready."

He squeezed her shoulders. "You're going to do the best you can, Beauty. That's all any of us can ask."

"Ready, B.P.?" Lyon called.

Paenther kissed her, a quick peck that sent his soft black hair sliding against her cheek. Then he released her and pulled off his shirt, and went to join the circle.

Kougar led the chant as the Ferals cut their chests with a sharp knife, one after the other, slapping their palms to the bloody wounds. Finally, Paenther cut his own chest, bloodied his hand and shoved his fist into the air. One by one, the other Ferals slapped their hands on top of his in a savage ritual of blood and power.

"Skye, join us," Lyon called.

She shrugged off the long leather coat and handed it to Delaney, then stepped out of the borrowed boots. Taking a deep breath for courage, she walked barefoot across the wet rock to enter the circle and stand before Paenther.

He stared down at her, his gaze falling to her knees and rising again, slowly, male appreciation warm in his eyes. Then he tilted his head back and yelled to the clouds, his deep, strong voice ringing out over the rocks and wind, "Spirits rise and join. Empower the beast beneath this sky." The others joined in, the words drifting and sliding around her. Thunder rumbled. The rock beneath her feet began to shake.

"Dance, Skye." Paenther threw back his head, and roared, "Empower the spirit of the panther!"

As the energy flowed around her, Skye closed her eyes and spun, her feet moving as she chanted the words Ezekiel had taught her.

"Stop!" Paenther's voice barked in her ear as his rough hands clamped onto her shoulders, stopping her abruptly. Her eyes flew open and she stared with horror at the Ferals around her bent double with pain.

She jerked free of Paenther's hold and spun to face him. "What happened?"

"Those are not the words Ezekiel taught you," he growled, his own face a mask of pain.

"They were." Her trembling hand went to her forehead. "I thought they were." She whispered some of the syllables.

"No. Those are the words I heard in the cavern."

Violent quakes tore through her body and she covered her face with her hands. This was the very thing she'd feared! That she'd hurt them. That Birik and his darkness had stained her soul.

"Shh..." Paenther's strong arms went around her and he pulled her against him, holding her too tight, his body strung taut with pain. Soft in her ear he said the words he'd heard as many times as she had last night.

Skye began to whisper the words with him, over and over, louder as she pulled out of his hold and turned. The Ferals straightened, their faces slowly clearing of the terrible discomfort.

Deep within her she felt the power begin to rise. Praise the Mother. But as she spun, the pain attacked her instead, a sudden searing wound through her chest as if someone had stabbed her with a dagger. She clutched her chest, forcing her feet to keep moving, but the pain intensified until it was a searing mass of fire and she couldn't breathe. She stumbled, gasping, dizzy with pain.

Paenther gripped her shoulders, holding her upright. "What's the matter? I could feel it working."

"My chest." And suddenly she understood. "The cantric. It won't let me..." she gasped. "Damn him. Damn him!" She looked up. "Help me. Say it with me."

"No. Not if it's going to hurt you."

"Say it!"

His jaw tightened, but he said the words with her, helping her dance when she could barely stand upright, when her vision threatened to fail. When she could hardly speak.

She felt his panther fighting to get back to him. But the harder she struggled to keep going, the worse her own pain became.

Paenther stopped her. "That's enough, Beauty."

"No! It's not." His panther growled, demanding her help. And she would help him!

"That's enough, Skye. I feel better. Stronger. It's enough."

The panther inside him howled with frustration.

"It's not enough! He's trying to reach you. I can help him reach you."

His face went hard and he hauled her against him, pinning her to his body. "No. This is killing you. I'm okay."

"Paenther..." Slowly, the pain in her chest ebbed to a throbbing ache. "I need to heal you."

"Look at his eye," Tighe said.

"Your Feral marks are back, B.P. See if you can shift on your own again."

Skye pulled back and looked up into Paenther's face. The scars across his eyes were indeed back. She released him and stepped back as he shed his pants then, with a flash of sparkling lights, shifted into the panther. A moment later, he returned to human form and donned his pants.

Lyon's voice rang with quiet satisfaction. "Thank you, Skye."

She nodded, but deep inside Paenther, his animal continued to charge at her frantically, begging her to continue.

She'd helped him.

But not enough. Not nearly enough.

"It's not working!" Paenther growled, hours later. The rage inside him twisted and turned like a living thing.

He and Skye were back in the Blue Ridge, standing behind the Market with Tighe, Delaney, Hawke, and Wulfe. It was nearly dusk, the gray sky growing dark. Vhyper, Jag, and Foxx only had a handful of hours left. But try as they might, they couldn't get through the warding.

He'd found the Market as he'd known he could, but getting up the mountain was proving impossible. Three times Skye had tried to lead them and each time, just past the place where he'd made love to her that day, things had started to fall apart. They started becoming disoriented. Confused. Hawke had shifted and tried flying over the warding, only to wind up spiraling to the ground, breaking his wing.

The last time, he and Skye had gone alone, but it was no use. Unless she could carry him, and she sure as hell couldn't, she wasn't going to get them into that cavern. Unlike some of the other Ferals, he had no ability to change the size of his animal. When he shifted, he was a large, full-sized panther. Period.

Tighe, Delaney, and Hawke sat on the remains of a discarded sofa. Kougar leaned against the brick wall of the Market while Skye sat beneath the trees on the hill, surrounded by the creatures of the forest.

Paenther paced. "Ideas?" he threw out to the group.

"There's one," Skye called softly, then rose and came down to join them. "I remember the counterspell. I can go in alone and try to free Jag and Foxx."

"No."

"If they escape, Birik probably won't bother to sacrifice Vhyper. The death of one Feral won't be enough for what he wants."

"You're not going in there alone."

She looked at him helplessly. "I can't get you in."

A chill slid down his spine. "You can take me in the same way you did before. Enthrall me."

Tighe growled. "Don't even think about it, B.P. You'll just wind up sacrifice number four."

He met his friend's gaze. "It's a chance."

"A hundred things could go wrong."

Skye stared at him, her eyes alight with worry and misery. "Tighe's right."

"It may be our only chance. Can you unenthrall me once we get inside?"

"Not easily or quickly." She clasped her hands together in front of her. "I had to open your mind to unenthrall you when I helped you escape from the cavern. Sex with an enchanted man isn't quick, and Birik will know I'm back as soon as I walk through the warding on the doors. I doubt I'll be able to get you up and off before someone finds us. And I'll have lost any way to pretend I've returned on my own. We'll both wind up in chains and be of no use to anyone."

"So the only way is for me to go in as your prisoner."

Shackled. Again. Fury threatened to rage through his body at the thought of it, but he had to get in there, dammit. He had to save his men.

Yet his only chance at success was if Skye went with him to get him out of the shackles. He stared at her, memorizing every line of her face. If he failed, she'd go back to being a captive and slave to that monster.

Skye slid her hand into his. "I don't like this plan, Paenther. But it may be the only one."

He pulled her around and cupped her shoulders. "I can't give you back to him."

"He won't kill me." She reached for him, pulling his head down where she could kiss him. He let her, feeling the soft, tender brush of her lips before she pulled back. In her eyes he saw his future and his past.

"I know what will happen if you hold back and do nothing," she said softly. "If you let Vhyper die when you might have been able to save him, you'll die inside, little by little, until there's nothing left." She stroked his cheek. "I can't be the cause of that. We can do this, Paenther. Trust me to do my part. I'll give you the chance you need to do yours."