A Love Untamed (Feral Warriors #7)(12)

She tore her gaze away, leaving him breathless, his heart hammering in his chest. As tempted as he was to stop, to just stand near her, he forced himself to keep going, to continue across the foyer to the hallway leading to the dining room. Melisande and Ariana were here for Lyon, not for him.

He nodded as he passed the two beauties, then headed back toward the dining room and his lunch. He needed food. And a cold beer. Maybe several. But as he reached the hallway, he glanced back, unable to resist one last glimpse, and found Melisande staring after him with a hard mouth and eyes filled with confusion . . . and desire.

It was all he could do to keep going when his feet wanted to turn back and close the distance between them. Now wasn’t the time to pursue the woman, he knew that. Not with Kara missing. Not with half of the new Ferals turning against them. But, goddess, what she did to him.

Sooner or later, she was going to be his.

Melisande tore her gaze away from the now-empty threshold, shaking her head, stifling a groan, hating that she kept reacting to that male. Her pulse was pounding, her body flushed and damp, and all from merely looking at him. But, heaven help her, even with his shirt ripped and blood everywhere, he was a sight to behold with those piercing blue eyes and that fine, fine chest. At least this time he hadn’t tried to flirt with her, though for a moment, his eyes had flared with heat, and she knew he was as affected by her as she was by him. Dammit.

She tried to force her attention back to the foyer and to Paenther as he spoke to Ariana, beside her, but she found herself shifting restlessly from one foot to the other, too aware of the feel of her soft tunic where it touched her skin, skimming now-taut ni**les, caressing her arms and back and shoulders. What would it feel like to have Fox’s hands on her instead?

The question popped unbidden into her mind, and she shoved it away with a scowl. By the mist.

“I want Ilina eyes on Feral House at all times,” Paenther was saying. “If anyone comes near—anyone other than those who live here—I want to know about it immediately.”

Ariana nodded. “Tell me how many warriors you need, Paenther, and they’ll be at your disposal.”

“Half a dozen, preferably in mist form so they won’t be seen by passing humans. Is that possible?”

Ariana nodded. “Yes, if they’re careful.”

“Good.”

The front door opened, sunshine pouring into the foyer as Hawke and Faith strolled in. No, she was Falkyn now, the first female Feral in centuries. Exhaustion and defeat lined both of their faces. The hopeful tension that had risen in the foyer at their appearance released in despair.

“Any news?” Hawke asked, closing the door behind him.

“None.” Paenther’s voice was hard as stone.

Melisande didn’t envy the Mage who’d taken the Ferals’ Radiant. They wouldn’t survive the Ferals’ retribution. And if there was one thing she understood very, very well, it was the need for vengeance. Castin was still out there somewhere, the shifter who’d betrayed her all those years ago, leading her and seven of her Ilina sisters into a trap that would see her friends dead and her damaged beyond repair. He still lived, she could feel it in her bones, and someday their paths would cross again. And on that day, she would cut out his heart.

A trip of sensual energy danced over Melisande’s flesh, making her gasp, pulling her gaze to the threshold where Fox had disappeared a short time ago. He stood there again, some twenty feet away, one shoulder propped against the doorframe, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. That sky blue gaze caught hers, snaring her in a velvet grip, accelerating her heart rate. The barest of smiles lifted his mouth, a smile that stirred the traitorous attraction. A softness entered his eyes, wrapping around her, stroking over her flesh like a warm, gentle touch, igniting a longing she didn’t understand.

And didn’t want.

She wrenched her gaze away, once more breathless and unsettled, perspiring in a room gone suddenly too warm. Damn him!

“We’ll be going,” Ariana said beside her, then shared a brief, tender kiss with Kougar, her mate.

Melisande ignored the mated pair, struggling to get her traitorous pulse under control even as she fought to keep from looking at the man who’d set it to flight in the first place. Stars in heaven, it had been so long since she’d felt anything like this, since she’d felt virtually anything at all. And she didn’t want to be feeling now.

She liked who she was, what she was—a warrior capable of doing what must be done to protect her queen and her race. Some called her cold, even heartless, but she was fine with that. Better than fine. It was exactly what she wanted.

Feelings made a warrior soft, made her lose her edge. And that was something Melisande refused to allow.

Fox watched Melisande disappear, misting out of the crowded Feral House foyer, leaving him feeling solar-plexed. Every time he came anywhere near her, he felt a buzz of desire unlike anything he’d ever experienced, a shadow of the pleasure she’d blasted him with the first time, perhaps, but incredible, all the same.

He’d been attracted to her from the moment he first saw her. She was so small, so . . . perfect. And he had to admit, that hard-ass attitude of hers turned him on, probably because no other woman had ever shoved such blatant stop signs in his face. She was a challenge, without a doubt. But she was more than that.

Each time their gazes met, he felt as if he were being sucked into a whirlpool. And he wondered if perhaps she felt the same, if some of her anger wasn’t simply a determination to resist.