Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(14)

Could her escape have gone any more wrong?

Sure, it could have. Other shifter females or males might have been hurt during her breakout. That would have been intolerable.

As almost silent footsteps sounded, her ears pivoted. She smelled the air, but the wind was wrong, blowing her scent toward whatever was coming.

A naked man stepped out of the brush, sniffed, and his gaze fixed on her hiding place.

On her.

Cold terror flooded her. Run! She leaped out of the hollow toward the thickest underbrush. Pain stabbed into her wounded legs, and she hissed. Gathering herself, she leaped toward the—

A cougar smashed into her, knocked her onto her side, and came down on top of her. He was heavy, so heavy, and more pain shot through her.

Her claws emerged, and she twisted to bring them to bear.

A terrifying growl reverberated in her ear. Teeth closed on the back of her neck, and each time she moved, his jaws bit down. The animal could sever her spine if he wanted.

Panting in dread, she went limp.

Her worst fear had come true—the Scythe had sent the shifter-soldiers.

Tell them. She had to tell the males about the trackers right now. Her paws twitched as she tried to trawsfur back to human.

Nothing.

She lay still under the male and trembled.

The naked human walked out of the brush. He was tall with short brown hair and a square jaw. His lack of clothing indicated he was a Daonain shifter and not human.

“Conclusions, Owen?” the male asked. “If she’s not fighting you, I’d guess she’s not feral?”

The cougar holding her down made a chirrup-purr of agreement.

When the naked shifter drew closer, the teeth on her neck tightened to ensure she couldn’t attack the unarmed male.

“I smell blood. Did you damage her?”

The cougar made a low growl of no.

Keeping his distance, the naked male circled her and made a grunting sound. “Her right hind and foreleg have infected wounds. Got a bloody graze across her right ribs deep enough to show bone. Either she has been poking herself with sticks or someone shot her. More than once.”

The rumble of anger from the heavy cougar filled Darcy’s brain, and she flattened her ears, wishing she were as tiny as a mouse. A mouse might have a chance.

The naked male stared down at her. “You need to trawsfur to human so we can figure out what to do.”

The order was like a kick to her belly. Everything in her surged forward, trying to do as he asked…and failing again. The sound she made was more of a kitten’s whimper than a cougar’s snarl. Her shivering increased.

“By the Lady, we don’t have time for this.” The male frowned at her. “Now, female.”

The teeth clamped on her neck released her. As magic tingled in the air, the cougar on her back was replaced by a huge male in human form. He rose to his feet.

The shorter male put his hands on his hips. “Got a suggestion, Owen?”

Darcy tried to stand.

“Don’t move, female.” Even in human form, the one named Owen had a growl that shattered her courage. Several inches over six feet, he had straight, rich brown hair to his shoulders, dark stubble along a strong jaw, and thick, dark brows. He looked…mean.

When moonlight glinted across a blade-shaped scar on his cheekbone, she went still. Every Daonain knew the symbol for a cahir—a warrior of the Daonain.

He looked at the other male. “Tynan, I don’t think she can shift.”

“Of course she can shift. She’s fully grown, not some thirteen-year-old girl.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure if you explain that to her carefully, she’ll trawsfur right back.”

Tynan gave the cahir a narrow-eyed look before turning his attention back to her. “You can’t change to human form, lass?”

Darcy shook her head from side to side. If they were Scythe, they wouldn’t talk with her. Although maybe their friendliness was a trick. If only her brain were working better. Still, why would they bother to talk? They wore knives and could simply cut her throat. Or bite through her spine. No discussion needed.

“Getting a wounded cat past the dogs and hunters will turn into what Calum’s mate calls a clusterfuck.” The annoyance in Owen’s low, rough voice was oddly reassuring…because he was on her side.

“No choice.” Tynan’s voice had the lilt of an Irish accent. “Cosantir’s orders.”

Cosantir? Darcy pulled in a breath of relief. A Cosantir, the God-empowered guardian of an entire territory, would never work for the Scythe. These males couldn’t be Scythe shifter-soldiers. Whatever were they doing in a city?

Oh, if she could only talk with them.

“Are you going to come with us nicely, female?” Owen’s question was blunt.

There was nothing she wanted more…but this was wrong. They couldn’t get her past the Scythe guarding the exits. She’d tried. The thought of putting these males into danger made her heart hurt. But she couldn’t speak and explain.

More importantly, they were offering her a chance to save the other villagers. She had to let them try. She nodded to Owen.

And if she died trying to escape? By the Mother’s sweet blessing, she would die in the company of her own kind.

“You know the area. Shift and lead us out, Tynan.” Owen trawsfurred and waited for the female to follow the wolf before bringing up the rear.