A Love Untamed (Feral Warriors #7)(4)

He’d find out soon enough.

As the original Ferals gathered around Kara, Lyon turned to the newcomers. “Stay back until we come for you. If you touch Kara when she’s radiant, without an armband, she’ll kill you.”

“You should see her when she glows,” Ewan said quietly, leaning close. “It’s a sight you won’t forget.”

Kieran grinned. “It’s a sight we’ll become well used to.”

Ewan chuckled, his excitement matching Kieran’s own. “That we will.”

As Kieran watched, Kara lifted her arms and literally began to glow as if she’d swallowed a small piece of the sun. She was such a sweet thing, pretty and quite young, not even a true thirty yet. She wore a slinky ritual gown and flip-flops, her hair in a ponytail. And he liked her immensely.

Lyon watched his mate with the devotion of a truly besotted mate, at once fiercely protective and tenderly in love.

Ritual words were spoken, blood was let, and suddenly Kieran felt a blast of energy power through his body in a euphoric rush. Lights sparkled all around him, and he found himself standing at knee level, on all fours, his snout protruding from his face. Excitement burst within him, then joy as he turned his head, eyeing his red fur, bushy tail, and very foxlike body.

He was now surrounded by a polar bear where Ewan had stood, a crocodile in place of the Welshman, a grizzly, snow leopard, white tiger, lynx, and even an eagle.

“Shift back,” Kougar told them.

Kieran imagined himself once more standing on two feet, and in another shower of sparkling lights, in another euphoric rush, he found himself a man once more.

“Henceforth, you will be known as . . .” Kougar’s straight arm came down, pointing from one new Feral to the next, starting with him. “Fox, Grizz, Polaris, Lepard, Witt, Eigle, Lynks, Croc.”

Ewan slapped him on the back. “What do you say, Fox?” He laughed heartily. “The ladies will love that.”

Kieran . . . no, he was Fox now . . . grinned and slapped the polar bear shifter on the back in return. “I’d say it’s a fine night, Polaris. A fine night indeed.”

As Ewan turned to congratulate the others, Jag approached, slapping forearms with Kieran in the traditional Feral greeting. “Welcome to the pack, Fox-man.”

“Kara!”

At Lyon’s alarmed tone, Kieran and Jag whirled, watching as Lyon swept a fainting Kara into his arms. None of the other new Ferals seemed to notice, but the originals and Fox all gathered close.

“What’s the matter with her?” Fox asked.

Kara, rousing, curled her arm around Lyon’s neck. “I’m okay. It’s just . . . the rituals. It’s like they’re sucking me dry.”

Nine collective breaths released at once.

Lyon tipped his head against the Radiant’s. “You scared me.”

Smiling softly, Kara pressed her hand to her mate’s cheek. “I love you.”

“My heart.”

Kieran . . . Fox . . . watched them, wondering at the courage . . . and foolishness . . . it took to care so much, to love so deeply. A mistake he refused to ever make himself.

Chapter Two

Two days ago

Fox strode through Feral House, his boots clicking on the hardwood floor, the golden fox-head armband that had appeared during his first shift tight around his upper arm, his mind in turmoil. For days his gut had continued to whisper that same fecking word. Wrong.

And now he thought he knew why. Hell, everything was wrong. The situation at Feral House could not be worse.

Last night, the new Ferals, those who’d been marked by the lost animal spirits, had risen up against the rest of them, attempting to slaughter them. Jag and Paenther had been badly injured, badly enough that all had feared for their lives, but they were pulling through. One of the new Ferals, Eigle, was dead. And the rest were gone. Even Ewan . . . Polaris.

It was all too clear that the evil Mage were behind this. Somehow, the Mage had freed the trapped animal spirits and infected them with some kind of dark magic that had not only kept them from marking the best of the line but had somehow managed to control the resulting Ferals, turning them into their own evil Feral army.

The good Feral Warriors were in a hell of a mess.

Thank the goddess he’d been marked by the fox and not one of the seventeen lost spirits. As he strode down the hallway, he saw Kougar coming out of the media room.

“Any news?” Fox asked. Kougar was a cold-eyed warrior with a mustache and goatee that made him look more than a little unapproachable. But he’d welcomed Fox warmly and given him no reason to think he wouldn’t share whatever he knew.

“Jag and Paenther will be returning soon. And we may be able to cure the new Ferals of that dark infection.”

“That’s brilliant. Then the Mage plot will have failed.”

Kougar plucked at his goatee. “Not entirely. Not all those marked were the best of their line. Perhaps none of them were.”

While Fox had the highest respect for Ewan and hated that his friend had been caught up in this mess, he could only feel relief that the ass**le Welshman wasn’t actually meant to be marked. His faith in the Feral Warriors as a whole, and his pride in being one of them, had been restored.

“The Shaman believes that my mate, Ariana, may have the solution buried inside the wealth of knowledge in her head,” Kougar continued.