A Love Untamed (Feral Warriors #7)(82)

His arms shook, his eyes burned as he inhaled her sweet scent, as he felt her beloved heart beat fast and strong against his.

“I love you, Lyon.” Her words thickened with tears. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve been lost without you, little one. They took my heart when they stole you from me.” He pulled away, studying her, touching her face, her hair. “You’re pale.” He growled. “They hurt you.”

Her mouth tipped up in the sweetest of smiles, the tears still running down her cheeks. “You’re here. I’m perfect, now.”

Her sweet words fell like healing rain onto his parched soul.

The battle was over.

As Lyon swept Kara into his arms, Fox shifted back into a man and swept Melisande into his. Holding her tight, he kissed her soundly, then tucked her against his side as he turned toward the others. Wulfe’s arm was bleeding, he noticed. And bleeding. With a frown, he looked at the others and found a cut on Lyon’s shoulder that didn’t appear to be healing, and another on Kougar’s thigh. So it wasn’t just him. And what did that mean?

As Jag sauntered over to them, Melisande grinned at him. “Hello, Jag.”

Jag stopped abruptly. “What did you do with Miss . . . ah . . . ?”

“Miss Bitch?” she asked saucily. “You’ll be happy to know, she’s gone. I think. Unless you start making Fox genuinely angry, then you’ll see her again in all her bitchy glory.”

A smile began to curl at the edges of Jag’s mouth. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Let’s go.” Lyon’s voice carried to them, low and urgent.

“We going after Inir?” Wulfe asked.

Lyon shook his head. “Feral House. Priority number one is getting our Radiant safe and secure. If we get ambushed before we escape this mountain, it could take every one of us to protect her. We’re not splitting up. Besides . . .” He glanced at his shoulder. “We’re not healing, and I want to know why. The Shaman should be able to tell us.”

“There are hundreds of sentinels within that fortress,” Kara said softly.

Lyon continued, “I’m aware that we may have trouble reaching the stronghold a second time. Inir may move his forces altogether though I think that’s unlikely. But we have an advantage they may not be aware of. Wulfe.”

At Fox’s curious expression, Jag elaborated. “The Wulfe-man has Daemon blood. He can see the warding.”

Holy shite.

“Roar, I’d be happy to . . .” Kougar began.

Lyon shook his head. “No discussion. We’re returning to Feral House to regroup. All of us. We will keep Inir and his evil army from freeing Satanan and his Daemon horde. But not today. Now let’s find that warding and get out of here.”

Wulfe motioned with his head. “The warding is closest this way.” He turned and started running up the hill, veering from their original path on a forty-five-degree angle.

Fox grabbed Melisande’s hand, and together they ran after him, the warriors surrounding their chief and their Radiant as the rain and hail pummeled them and lightning tore across the sky.

Fox squeezed Melisande’s hand. “You fought brilliantly, pet.”

She looked up at him with eyes shining with battle lust, and love. “I had no trouble,” she said wonderingly. “It helped that they were soulless, Daemon-raising scum. But inside, I’m all right, I think. The Ceraph and the warrior are coming to terms. It’s still going to take some time to process all that’s happened and to work through the guilt issues. But I feel . . . good.” Her eyes softened. “Better than good.” But a second later, she bit her lip, worry creasing her brow. “Or I will once we get through that warding.”

Feck. The warding. He squeezed her hand tightly. “I’ve gotten you through it twice, now. I’ll do it again. I won’t let anything happen to you, Mel. I swear it.”

She smiled. “I believe you.”

“Fox?” Lyon called.

Fox steered Melisande to Lyon’s side. As they ran abreast with the Chief of the Ferals, Lyon gave them both a nod, his gaze meeting Fox’s and holding. “I have no words to express my gratitude. To both of you. You honor all of us by being one of us, Fox. The animal spirit chose well.”

Lyon’s gaze shifted to Melisande. “Did I hear you say you’re a Ceraph, Melisande?”

“You’re an angel?” Jag crowed. There was no speaking too low for Feral hearing, not in this tight group.

But Melisande only smiled, a serene smile flashing with steel. “I was, millennia ago. Soon after the Sacrifice, I was captured by shifters trying to get their animals back. I lost that part of me and everything soft in the months they tortured me. I lost my heart. But Fox has helped me to reclaim it.”

Lyon nodded. “A mated pair?”

Fox looked at her, meeting her gaze, and realized he had no doubt it was what he wanted. None. “Yes. If she’ll have me.”

A sweet, loving smile crossed her lovely face. “There’s nothing I want more.”

Fox grinned, then let out a laugh, his joy uncontainable. Melisande’s sweet laughter melded with his.

“The transformative power of love never ceases to amaze me.” Lyon smiled. “Welcome, Melisande. I have to admit, I much prefer calling you friend than enemy.”