A Love Untamed (Feral Warriors #7)(18)

“You could say that,” Zeeland said darkly. “I’m not leaving her side.”

“Ariana would never harm one of her own.” Kougar turned to Julianne. “You’re one of hers, now, whether or not you choose to acknowledge the connection.”

“It’s not Ariana I’m worried about,” Zee muttered.

Kougar nodded toward the other hallway. “We’re meeting in the war room. I’m afraid it’s a closed meeting, but you’re welcome to await Ariana in the dining room. Pink will be happy to serve you refreshments.”

Before Zeeland had a chance to reply, half a dozen Ilinas materialized in the foyer, Ariana among them, along with Phylicia, Cressida, and Melisande.

Fox’s gaze found her in an instant, energy and desire sliding over his skin like the soft caress of feminine fingers, sending his pulse into overdrive and the blood flowing hotly through his veins. Even with that hard warrior’s expression, she was inexpressibly lovely, her features even and pure, her jaw proud, her body lithe and lovely.

Her gaze zeroed in on him, that same mix of anger, confusion, and desire swirling in sapphire eyes. But as she jerked her gaze away from his, turning it to the others, she froze. Her eyes narrowed, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword as her body tensed, as if for battle.

Fox took a step forward, driven by an inexplicable need to protect her. But Hawke put a hand on his arm, holding him back as Kougar placed himself squarely between Melisande and Zeeland.

His old friend had shoved Julianne behind him and was drawing his own knife, a low sound of fury rumbling from his throat.

Bloody hell. He’d been right about Melisande’s being the one responsible for the deaths of Julianne’s parents. And Kougar had clearly anticipated the confrontation.

“Put the knife away, Zeeland,” Kougar said calmly.

“You defend her?” Zeeland demanded.

Melisande stepped to the side, where she could see Zeeland, no remorse in her expression. Instead, she wore a hard look that said, bring it on. But as Fox watched her, something happened. Chaos flared in the cold depths of her eyes, and she swayed ever so slightly, her skin turning pale as new snow. With a hard breath, she seemed to gather her wits, her shields slamming down until nothing showed but that cold warrior’s façade.

It all happened so quickly, he wondered if he’d imagined it. But she was still pale. And if he were to touch her, if she were ever to allow that, he knew he’d feel tremors rippling through her slender form.

As Ariana stepped close to Melisande’s side, Kougar crossed his arms and faced Zeeland fully. “Melisande is no danger to you or your mate, Zeeland. Unless you attack her. And then, if you survive, you’ll answer to me.”

Zeeland’s disappointment in Kougar’s position was patently obvious, but he was a soldier first. He sheathed his knife, but his expression made it clear that Melisande had better keep her distance, or he would happily cut out her heart.

At Ariana’s touch of her arm, Melisande slowly sheathed her own blade and didn’t look any happier about doing so than Zeeland had. As Fox watched her, she glanced at him, and in those glorious, sapphire eyes, for the breadth of a heartbeat, emotion flared once more. Accusation. Disbelief. Fear.

Why?

The woman baffled him. It was as if she wanted the world to think her a cold-blooded killer. But the fact that Kougar defended her told him it was just a façade. There was more to the story, more to her. Much more.

Every time he saw her, he became more intrigued. She stirred his most basic instincts—to possess, to protect. And he became more and more convinced it would take a concerted effort to break through those walls of hers. But he had all the time in the world.

He hoped.

Melisande strode down the hallway to the war room beside Ariana. Her chin was high, her back straight even if she could feel Zeeland’s gaze like a dagger in her spine.

She was shaking.

Stars in heaven. As she’d faced Zeeland’s fury, as she’d met the hatred in Julianne’s eyes, for one horrible moment, emotions she’d thought long dead rushed up, threatening to strangle her. Sorrow, regret. She’d fought them back, and they’d slunk away as quickly as they’d appeared, but they had not closed the door behind them. Even now, she could feel them swirling inside her like sharks beneath the ice. Awakening. And it could not be borne.

The stirrings of desire for the Greek god were bad enough. But she would not feel remorse for something she had no reason to regret. She refused. For centuries, she’d kept her eye on Julianne’s mother, the only half-Ilina in existence, hoping she’d never turn to mist and learn of her true nature. But she had, and Melisande had revealed herself to her, warning her never to tell another soul. Ever. The survival of the entire Ilina race depended upon it. But the woman had ignored her, spilling her secret to a lover. And Melisande had had no choice but to silence them both.

Like mother, like daughter, Julianne had done the same, revealing her secret to Zeeland. If not for Kougar’s interference, they too would have lived out their last few days in the Crystal Realm.

She refused to feel guilt for that. Refused.

And she wouldn’t feel guilt, she wouldn’t feel anything if not for Fox, damn him. If only she hadn’t tried to blast him. Something had happened when the pleasure she’d inadvertently thrown at him rebounded on her. The part of her that had been locked so firmly away for centuries was beginning to push free again. Her breath caught, a sick knot forming in her stomach as everything she’d worked for, everything she was, threatened to slip through her fingers.