A Love Untamed (Feral Warriors #7)(68)

“I’ll never hurt the Ferals!”

“You’ll have no choice.”

Fox could feel the young man’s anguish, his fury.

The flashback shorted out with a burst of pain, leaving Fox reeling even as his mind spun from all he’d learned.

The shivers, the Cub had called them. And with a slam of understanding, he knew the same thing had happened to him. Always before, he’d felt goose bumps lift on his forearms seconds before his gut delivered him a truth. He’d thought the sudden shivers were merely a change in his gift thanks to his becoming a Feral. Now, he knew better.

He wished he remembered which of his intuitions had been preceded by shivers. But he knew, didn’t he? The ones that had led him, or tried to lead him, into traps. And almost certainly the one that had led him into the warding with Melisande and Phylicia behind him. Bloody hell.

And, unless he was mistaken, the flashbacks were the doing of the fox spirit, the good one who struggled against the dark enchantment. It was his way of warning Fox, of teaching him what had gone before. And the flickering and shorting out? The darkness trying to stop him.

All this time, he’d thought himself lucky that he hadn’t been marked by one of the infected seventeen animal spirits. Now, it seemed, his own animal wasn’t just a carrier of dark infection, but in a battle of its own.

Just a few days ago, the Shaman had checked him for dark infection and found nothing. But perhaps the Shaman hadn’t been able to sense the darkness in the animal spirit. Fortunately, his animal didn’t have any real control over him. The darkness could only send him false signals from his gut. Signals he’d already learned to ignore.

The animal spirit should not be able to harm him any longer.

But goose bumps broke out over his arms, presaging a true moment of intuitive insight. One word.

Wrong.

Kara woke to find Polaris striding through the doorway of her small cell. She pushed herself up, her hand going to her damp forehead. Yeah, still not feeling good.

“Come, Kara. There’s another new Feral to be brought into his animal.”

Oh, hell. And now she felt a hundred times worse. “Ewan,” she began, using his real name, praying the good man was still in there somewhere. “Help me get out of here. You know how evil Inir is. And I know you’re a good man.”

As if to refute her claim, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and hauled her to her feet. “I am Polaris,” he said coldly. “Inir is my master until Satanan rises. Until the High Daemon rules us all.”

His grip on her arm too tight, he led her out of the prison block, down the long hallways, and up the stairs to the main castle. Inir’s stronghold was simply, but richly, decorated with high ceilings, wood paneling, and an abundance of leather and dark woods. Servants scurried through the castle as if they feared for their lives, while Mage sentinels walked with the cold-eyed calm of the soulless.

Ahead, Inir stood talking to half a dozen of his soldiers, his voice ringing clearly through the great hall. “Four more have breached the warding. You will bring them to me once they are caught.”

Kara’s pulse sped. New Ferals? Or her Ferals? While she prayed it was the latter, the thought terrified her, too. The more new Ferals she brought into their animals, the less the good Ferals’ chances of defeating Inir and his evil army. How could she live knowing she’d helped turn the tide against those she loved? How would she ever survive without Lyon?

Inir looked up and saw her, then turned and headed for the back door. Polaris steered her after him. Together, they followed Inir down to the large rock where she’d performed the last Renascense, and found five men waiting—Croc, Witt, and Lynks, along with the wolverine and a man she’d never seen before, one who had the dark good looks of a Spaniard.

The sound of a child’s moan had Kara’s gaze flying to a rocky ledge off to the side. As she stared at the little girl Inir had cut earlier, she sickened. The child lay on the rock in nothing but her panties, her abdomen stitched with a hundred stitches. The girl watched them with eyes dark with pain and bright with fear. Kara lurched and only remained upright thanks to Polaris’s too tight hold.

“Refuse this time, Radiant, and I’ll take off her ears, one at a time, then her nose, then her lips.”

The little girl began to cry with panicked, gulping sobs.

Shaking with horror, Kara jerked her arm free of Polaris’s grasp. “I won’t refuse.” Lyon, forgive me. He would understand.

As she went radiant, Polaris told the new man, “Stay back, Estevan.” Minutes later, the ritual complete, Estevan, stood on the rock, a black bear.

A wave of sick pain rushed over Kara, making her tremble and sway as her flesh suddenly felt cold and bruised, her knees too weak to stand. Her vision narrowed to nothing. And she went down.

Sometime later, perhaps an hour later, Fox shivered. The prelude to a false intuition. He tensed, waiting. Wondering. Moments later, his “gut” told him they had company waiting for them outside. To remain hidden.

Which meant, contrarily, that there was no one outside and the safest thing for them to do was to leave the cave. Now.

“Melisande,” he called quietly. She woke instantly at the sound of her name and, three seconds later, was on her feet, her hand on her sword hilt, her eyes only slightly hazed with sleep and confusion.

“Are they here?”