“We’re connected, Wulfe,” she said quietly. “Beyond the channel key. I don’t understand it, I just know that it’s true. From the start, you’ve protected me. You won’t hurt me. I know that. And just as you’ll protect me, I’ll protect you.”
“Natalie . . .”
“Trust me, Wulfe. Far more importantly, trust yourself.”
Wulfe stared at the water tripping down the rocks, his heart pounding because the Ferals’ needed a miracle. But how could he possibly pull this off? How could anyone? If he lost control of the darkness, he could become the instrument of the world’s destruction.
Goddess, he prayed silently. I beg of you, don’t let that happen. I know you’ve been disappointed in me. I know you punished me for my vanity and my mistakes all those years ago. I’m reminded every time I look in the mirror. His hands gripped Natalie’s tight. I’m sorry. Please don’t make Natalie pay for my sins, too. Please protect her through this. And protect my brothers. If a life must be forfeit, let it be mine.
He felt a soft cheek rub against his shoulder. “I won’t let the darkness take you, Wulfe. I promise.”
With a shudder, he pulled her around in front of him, until he could hold her precious face in his hands. Her eyes were so calm, so sure.
“How do you have such faith in me?” he asked with wonder.
“Because I know you.” She placed a slender hand over her heart. “In here.”
As he stared into those gray eyes, alight with conviction, he felt a calmness beyond reckoning, a joy without bounds. “Goddess, how I love you.” Pulling her close, he kissed her, drinking of her essence, her strength, even as he shared his in return.
Slowly, they pulled apart. He caressed her cheek, subconsciously tracing the line of her missing wound, until he realized what he was doing. Strome’s words came back to him, that in order to pull the primal energies for himself, to open the channel fully, he had to give Natalie back the wound he’d taken.
“How could I ever intentionally hurt you?” he whispered, tracing that invisible line down her cheek.
Her hand covered his. “You won’t be hurting me, Wulfe. You’ll simply undo what you did before and give me back the cut that was always mine.”
“I would take a hundred to keep you from suffering that one.”
“It’s a small price to pay to save the world. Besides, I’d kind of like a rakish scar. A battle scar.” Her smile turned impish. “I rather like yours, Shifter. I rather fancy having one of my own.”
He shook his head, then snorted, remembering her as he first knew her—with her hair unwashed and tangled, that jagged wound across her cheek. From the very start, she’d never been anything but beautiful to him. From the first moment he’d spoken with her, that calm poise and courage of hers had shone through so brightly that her imperfections had faded to obscurity. He’d fallen in love with her then, wound and all. No simple scar would ever change that. A hundred scars wouldn’t change it.
And he finally understood that it was the same for her. His scars truly meant nothing to her, nothing but a chronicle of past events. As hers, if the day ever came that he felt driven to return it, would become a sign of her courage and a mark of battles fought.
“You humble me.” He stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her, caressing her lips with his, sliding his tongue into her sweet mouth, pulling her tight against his heart as he loved her. As she loved him in return. But as their tongues stroked one another, voices began to whisper in his head, and he jerked back, freezing.
My lord, it is done. My sorcerers have accomplished the impossible. They’ve created the unascended Radiant’s blood needed to open the Daemon Blade. All but two Feral lights have been doused, and the last two should be choking out any minute.
Gather your Ferals.
Done. The moment the true Ferals are no more, the ritual will begin. You will be free at last.
“What’s the matter?” Natalie asked, her expression worried.
“They’ve done it. They have what they need to open the Daemon Blade. We’re out of time.”
Wulfe grabbed Natalie’s hand and started running toward the Ilinas’ castle. “Melisande!” he shouted.
A second later, the petite Ilina materialized in front of him, her expression battle ready. “What happened?”
“Get us back to Feral House, now.”
Chapter Twenty
Wulfe raced into the Feral dining room through the back door, Natalie and Melisande close behind. Paenther, Fox, and Zeeland sat at the table.
“Roar!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, knowing his chief could be anywhere in the house. “Foyer!”
The three at the table leaped up and followed as he grabbed Natalie’s hand and ran down the hall. All the Ferals, hearing his shout, converged in the foyer within a minute.
“They’ve created unascended Radiant blood,” Wulfe told them. “Inir says only two of us can still shift. He’s preparing his Ferals to open the blade the moment they can’t. We’re out of time.”
“I’ve still got my animal,” Falkyn said.
Fox nodded. “As have I.”
Lyon’s gaze snapped toward the basement door. “Grizz and Lepard?”
“I’ll check,” Melisande said, and disappeared. Four seconds later, she was back. “They both lost theirs within the past hour.”
“So Inir was right,” Fox muttered. “We’re down to two.”
Jag’s hands fisted. “Let’s go kill that bastard.”
“Wait!” Olivia said beside him. “The Therian Guard should go after Inir. You’re still mortal. Let us try to capture him and bring him to you.”
“Not a chance, Red.” Jag hauled her close. “This is our fight.”
Olivia turned on her mate, her expression warrior-hard. “Kara saw hundreds of immortal sentinels. Too many for you to take on in this condition, Jag, and you know it. And that’s if you can find your way through the warding again.”
Fox joined the argument. “The Guard is unlikely to have any better luck breaching that warding, Olivia, and you know it.”
Ariana appeared suddenly in the midst of them, frustration in her Ilina eyes. “I finally know what went wrong with the ritual to restore your animals.” Silence dropped like a blanket over the foyer as all heads turned her way. “The ritual requires the blood of the one who made the charm. The Shaman has felt Inir’s magic in it from the start. We need Inir’s blood.”
“Bloody hell,” Fox muttered. “So there’s no fecking way out of this. We’re attacking that stronghold just as we are, as nonshifting mortals.”
Vhyper shrugged. “Better nonshifting than dead.”
“We attack Inir’s fortress immediately,” Lyon snapped. “The ten Ferals will head out first along with Zeeland and Olivia and however many Guards the Ilinas can take. The rest will follow as quickly as the Ilinas can get them there. Say good-bye to your mates, grab food, and arm yourselves well since you won’t be shifting.” He turned to Ariana. “Once you’ve delivered us close to the warding, the same place you did last time, return here with your Ilinas to protect our women. Mist them out of here if you need to.”
“We’re all going?” Tighe asked.
“Do you see an alternative?”
“No. We’re going to need every man. What about Grizz and Lepard? They delivered themselves back here, knowing we might kill them.”
“They stay in the prisons. Trusting them is a risk we can’t afford.”
Wulfe had to agree. As much as they could use Grizz’s and Lepard’s help, Grizz was a time bomb with a short fuse. If Inir found a way to turn him against them, he could kill two or three of them before they realized what was happening.
“Gather your weapons and meet back here immediately,” Lyon commanded. “The Ilinas will transport you as you arrive.” Lyon swept Kara into his arms and ran up the stairs.
Wulfe took Natalie’s hand and followed. The moment he ushered her into his bedroom, he gathered her close and kissed her with all the worry and frustration that battled inside him.
Finally, he pulled back, cupping her face. “You’ll stay with the other women.”
“If Satanan takes control of me again?”
He tipped his forehead to hers. “I pray that doesn’t happen.” Lifting his head, he met her gaze. “It’s far too dangerous to take you into battle.”
Her jaw hardened, a warrior’s strength shining in her eyes. “If you need me, send for me. Don’t hesitate, Wulfe.”
He stroked her creamy cheek, then pulled away to arm himself, strapping his knife-laden hunting belt around his waist and two swords across his back, one for each hand. Finally, he slid a pair of knives into his boots.
As he straightened, shouts and whoops blasted suddenly from the foyer two stories below.
“Goddess, please let this be good news for once,” Wulfe muttered. Grabbing Natalie’s hand, he ran.
Zeeland stood in the foyer, surrounded by the Therian Guards, Olivia, and Fox, the shouting in his ears and the hands slapping his back barely breaching the shock as he stared at the claw marks that had erupted on his forearm seconds ago, four parallel marks, each several inches in length, that looked like long-healed scars.
His heart pounded, goose bumps rising on his flesh as understanding slowly penetrated his stunned mind.
“Lyon!” Olivia shouted beside him. “Zeeland’s been marked!”
Marked. To be a Feral Warrior.
His jaw had dropped and still hung open as he met Fox’s grin. Fox held out his hand and slapped forearms with him in the Ferals’ traditional manner.
Julianne flew into his arms, and he held her tight against him as he buried his face in her hair.
A Feral Warrior. At last.
But was the animal who’d marked him one of the seventeen who’d been infected? It might be one of the two who’d been infected and died, an animal spirit that should be clear of Inir’s poison this time. There was no way to know.
Would the Ferals imprison him now, too?
Goddess.
He looked up to find Lyon at the top of the stairs, joined in quick succession by most of the other Ferals and many of their mates.
“Is it true?” Lyon demanded.
Zeeland held up his arm.
“Hot diggity damn!” Jag crowed.
“Praise the goddess,” Hawke said starting down the stairs, Falkyn beside him. “Roar, I’ve known this male since he was a child. I would stake my life and that of my mate on Zeeland’s being the best of the best. There’s not an ounce of darkness in him.”
“I agree,” Fox said from beside Zeeland. “I’ve worked with him for decades, and he’s as honorable as they come.”
“This is what we’ve been waiting for,” Tighe said. “A sure thing.”
The Ferals were all streaming down the stairs, now, all but Lyon. When Hawke reached Zeeland, he slapped forearms with him, his grin wide and delighted. “Bringing a good Feral into his animal will reverse the damage done to Kara.”
“You’re our ace in the hole.” Wulfe extended his arm to him, too. “The moment we bring you into your animal, we halt Inir’s ability to perform the ritual to free the Daemons.”
“Time for a Renascence, boys and girls,” Jag said, slapping Zeeland on the shoulder as he extended his arm.
“The goddess stone, ASAP.” Lyon’s voice boomed down the stairs, and Zeeland looked up to find him carrying Kara down. “Ferals only. And Julianne. Olivia’s in charge here.”
Kougar looked up. “Roar, it’s still daylight. There will be humans all over the place.”
“Go. Raise the warding. The rest of us will arrive by Ilina.”
Groans peppered the foyer, but Kougar nodded as Ariana turned to mist beside him. A moment later the pair disappeared. The rest of the males stripped off their shirts, many laying knives and swords of every length into a pile against one wall. Pulling away from Julianne, Zeeland did the same, then kicked off his boots. In a few minutes, he’d be shifting, and he had no idea if he’d be able to hold on to his clothes and weapons.
The chills raced over his skin. Shifting.
“No!” Falkyn cried.
Hawke grabbed her as she swayed. “Faith?”
“My falcon. She’s gone.”
The Ferals’ exchanged ominous glances. They were down to one.
Two minutes later, Ariana was back. “He’s ready.”
Zeeland grabbed Julianne’s hand, meeting her bright blue gaze and the love and pride in her eyes. She grinned at him, slaying him all over again as she did every single time she smiled. Goddess, but he loved this woman.
As Ilinas appeared out of nowhere, all around the foyer, he released Julianne’s hand and, a heartbeat later, was swept into a tingling, scratchy cloud that spun until he was sick with dizziness. Almost as soon as it began, the ride ended, and he found himself on the rocks overlooking the Potomac, retching his guts out. All around him, the other Ferals were doing the same. He finally understood why they complained so much about Ilina travel. What a miserable ride.
Ariana joined Kougar and began chanting, while the rest of the Ilinas gathered close to the short rock face farthest from the river below.
As Zeeland rose to his feet, he found Julianne and went to her. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head with a rueful smile. “Quite a trip.”
He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and pulled her close. The sun was low in the western sky and would be setting soon, the day warm and bright. A perfect day to turn into a shape-shifter. His grin escaped, and he kissed his mate soundly, needing to share his joy with her.
