A Love Untamed (Feral Warriors #7)(50)

Finally, he returned to her, brushing against her hip with his side, delighted when her fingers dove into his fur, stroking him.

Ah, that feels good, pet.

“I’m thinking you’re the pet.”

He grinned at her. Keep your hands on me like this, and I’ll be whatever you want me to be.

He tensed slightly, worried his words would drive her away after what happened in the windbreak, but the look she gave him was one of wry amusement and her hand continued to stroke him.

“I like the feel of your fur. It’s incredibly soft.”

Her hand moved to the top of his head and he pressed into her touch, loving it.

“Did you find the trail?” she asked.

Aye. Castin’s scent doesn’t extend beyond this small area. It’s as if he appeared at the site of the pit and left this world immediately following the battle with the Mage.

“Perhaps that’s what happened.” She moved to the front of him, running her fingers along the side of his neck as he melted from the sweet feel. “Or perhaps the labyrinth is messing with us just as the mountain did. If the labyrinth is part of the mountain’s magic, it probably is.”

Aye.

“So, what now? Someone is bound to come after us again. Maybe Mage.”

I agree. I suggest we stay close to the beach, where we’ll have plenty of warning of anyone’s approaching. In a spray of sparkling lights he shifted back to human form. The sensual energy he always felt upon turning human in Melisande’s presence hit with a blast of desire that nearly drove him to his knees. Goddess. He found her with his eyes, saw the answering flare of heat, and he had to fist his hands at his sides to keep from hauling her into his arms. The need to touch her, to taste her, to mate with her was burning him alive.

With an audible groan, raking both hands through his hair, he turned away and started toward the beach. Melisande fell into step beside him. He eyed the ocean, wondering if it was cold enough to douse the fire in his loins. As they walked, he curled his hands into fists, fighting the natural inclination to hold out his hand to her. Touching her in any way was a bad idea right now.

“Do you see anything living?” he asked, trying to shift his thoughts to something other than the fire burning in his blood. The sun, now fully out, beat hot on his scalp and shoulders adding to the sense that he was burning alive. “I’ve seen no wildlife, not even a seagull.”

“There was a goat in the seaport, but he was tied to one of the carts.” Melisande’s voice sounded as strained as his own, her words laced with a huskiness that did nothing to ease his discomfort. “So is this an ocean without fish? And if we had a boat, how far could we sail before this world ended? Would we hit the edge of the warding and burn? Or slide right through into yet another world?”

He didn’t answer. He’d barely heard her questions through the need pounding through his body. From the water’s edge, he turned back, observing the landscape, to all appearances, a deserted island.

But he knew it was more than that. It was a trap. Another stop along the gauntlet.

While his warrior’s brain constantly logged senses and impressions, searching for threats of any kind, his man’s brain was wholly on the woman at his side. A woman so ripe with need for him that they were both shaking from it. Yet she was a woman who wouldn’t . . . couldn’t follow through.

“Melisande, was your capture by the Therians part of the reason the Ilinas faked your extinction a thousand years ago?” He was treading on delicate ground, but he wanted to understand.

“No. They had nothing to do with one another. My capture by the Therians happened lifetimes before the Mage attacked us. We never intentionally faked our extinction, by the way. Not at first. A thousand years ago, Ariana and Kougar fell in love. The Mage feared the Ilinas and Ferals would join forces and sought to keep that from happening. Up until then, the Ilinas had stayed out of the war between the shifters and the Mage. We tended to prefer the more virile shifters in our beds, but we’d never fought beside them, not since the Daemon Wars. And never against the Mage.

“The Mage . . .” She stopped abruptly. “They attacked us,” she said harshly. “Their poison killed ninety-six Ilinas, more than two-thirds of our number, leaving the rest of us clinging to life for several centuries. When we emerged again, we realized the immortal world thought us extinct, and finally understood why the Mage had not finished us off as they could so easily have done. They’d tapped into Ariana’s queen’s power and had fed the poison to the rest of the race through her. And they still possessed that ability. It became critical that the Mage poison master not learn that Ariana still lived before I could hunt him down and kill him.”

“And did you?”

“No.” The word was filled with acid. “The poison had some kind of magic in it that kept me from ever finding him no matter how close I got. Ariana and Kougar finally tracked him down not long ago. And they killed him.”

Fox frowned. “I don’t understand. If Kougar and Ariana were mated a thousand years ago . . . did Kougar know what had happened?”

“No. He thought their mating bond had severed. He believed Ariana dead all that time.”

He’d never heard of a mating bond severing without the death of one of the pair. “Then how . . . ?”

She scowled and turned away. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”