A Love Untamed (Feral Warriors #7)(77)

He kissed her softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He rose to his feet, pulling her up with him, and they were off again.

Keeping to the trees, hiding, dodging the sentinels’ more rigid paths they avoided Inir’s troops, who were scouring the area. But as they reached an open space between the forest’s trees and those hugging the rocks, three Mage sentinels approached.

Melisande and the two Ferals ducked behind the nearest trees. Her heart thudded in her chest, the tree bark biting into her back as she listened for any indication they’d been spotted, and heard none. The sentinels’ footsteps didn’t change tempo at all.

The flash of sparkling shifter lights drew her gaze to where Fox once more shifted into his animal, but this time he downsized quickly and did not appear to be in distress.

Did you do that on purpose? she asked him mentally.

Aye. We’re going to have to silence these three, I’m afraid. The weather will turn on us, but just knocking them out is too risky. They could come to at the wrong moment.

Like just as they were attempting to escape with Kara. Assuming they ever reached Kara. At the thought of killing one of the Mage, the memory of the bodies they’d left in the snow came back to her, blending once more with the memory of her sisters writhing in their death throes.

As if he heard her thoughts, the small fox turned to her. Pet, I don’t want you using your sword unless it’s for self-defense. Not yet. Promise me.

The thought of sitting by while her companions fought disgusted the warrior in her. But she was still badly shaken by her emotional implosion, and the last thing any of them needed was a repeat of that event.

All right, she told him. And she was relieved because that old, old part of her, the Ceraph, recoiled from the thought of killing.

Are you still a dead aim with your knives, Castin? Fox asked.

I am, but I only have one.

Keep an eye on me, then. Take out the third when I go after the second. Then, without further talk, the small fox trotted across the clearing, diving into the bushes not far from where the Mage approached. Two of the sentinels walked side by side, but a third trailed them by several yards.

As Melisande watched, Fox shifted directly behind the trailing man, covered his mouth, and yanked him into the bushes. Moments later, the small fox trotted out of the bushes, following the remaining pair. A bolt of lightning tore across the clear blue sky.

Out of the corner of her eye, Melisande saw Castin twirling his knife between his fingers. She was still reeling from his words, his claim that he’d never betrayed her, that he hadn’t even known what happened to her. All the years of her captivity, he’d been a slave to the wolverines.

And she believed him. Not once had she seen him in all the time she was a captive though she’d cursed his name often and loudly. So much hatred. Wasted. If there was a good side to all of this, at least she’d found him when she couldn’t mist and couldn’t easily kill him. Because, apparently, he’d never deserved to die.

Deep inside, something eased, righting itself. For so long, she’d castigated herself for being duped, for believing him a good man. Perhaps she hadn’t been wrong at all.

As she watched, Fox suddenly shifted and took one of the Mage from behind. At that exact instant, Castin threw his knife, burying it in the other sentinel’s chest.

Castin turned to her, motioned with his head for her to join him. Together, they ran to Fox, and as dark clouds rolled in overhead and began spilling rain, pulled the two dead Mage into the bushes, where they wouldn’t be spotted by their brethren. The sudden deluge ensured that any trace of blood would soon be washed away.

Melisande rubbed her chest, right over her heart where it was beginning to ache. She’d thought killing Castin, completing her vengeance, would return her to her cold, unfeeling state. Now she knew that refuge was lost to her. There was no way to go back. Only forward. But to what?

Who was she if not the emotionless warrior or the kind Ceraph? As both of those women, she’d had a place, a purpose. She had neither of those anymore, not as long as her Ceraph self balked at the need to kill.

Fox curved his hand around the back of her neck, a protective, tender gesture that melted something inside her and reminded her how much she’d missed when she couldn’t feel. No, she didn’t want to go back to that, not really. What she wanted was to be able to continue to do her job as Ariana’s second. And she wanted . . . Fox.

He glanced at her, a wealth of affection and caring in his eyes. Love for him welled up until she feared it would overflow. Yes, she wanted to be with Fox, for as long as he wanted her in return.

Assuming they made it off this mountain alive.

Once the bodies were hidden, Fox began to lead the way between the brush and the rock, disappearing suddenly. A moment later, Melisande knew why. He’d found the tunnel.

As the three ducked inside, Fox turned to her, stroking her cheek. “Wait here. Hide, Mel. Don’t try to defend the entrance, just hide.”

She scowled at him. “I’m not helpless, Feral. Besides, you need me. What if you get stuck in your animal again?”

“I don’t want you in danger.”

In his eyes she saw a softness, a caring, that stirred the feelings for him that had been growing within her until she thought they would burst from her chest, too big to contain. She would protect him as he sought to protect her. Because if his animal spirit shut him down inside Inir’s stronghold, he was a dead man.