Desire Untamed (Feral Warriors #1)(19)

"It's not a mating, if that's what you're thinking. The purpose is to determine the one…the only one… who can safely see you through your Ascension. Your biological match. There's magic in our world that humans can't reach and don't understand. Our rituals call forth that magic. You have to trust me. And we don't have much time."

"You want me to just… get naked?"

Yes. No. He wouldn't survive such an assault on his senses. "Put a towel around you."

"Lyon…"

He could see her uncertainty even as he could smell her blossoming arousal. The purpose of the preparation was to ready her body, cleansing and opening, so that when she entered the Feral Circle, her passion would rise to the surface of her skin. But the mere suggestion of baring her flesh to him had done the trick. What would happen when he touched her, as he must? Where he must?

Goddess give me the strength to carry this through.

"I have to rub drops of ritual oil into your body in seven key places."

"Where?"

"Get ready first. And put your hair up. I'll explain as we go."

When Kara retreated to the bathroom, Lyon pulled the ritual oil from the drawer where he knew Beatrice had stored it and removed the stopper. He took a whiff of the erotic substance and immediately wished he hadn't. There would be no slaking his own desire. No slaking hers. She must come to the ceremony with her passion ready to rise from her skin. Unfortunately, she was going to enter with her body more than ready. As would he. His body was already as hard as the hilt of a sword.

Moments later, Kara emerged, clinging to the thick royal blue towel wrapped around her with a charming self-consciousness. His gaze rose from her perfectly shaped legs over the slender curves hidden by the towel to the gentle swell of br**sts and the sweep of her silken shoulders.

The breath caught in his throat as heat spiraled low inside him in a raw, pulsing ache. And he hadn't even touched her.

I can't do this. But when his gaze rose to her eyes he saw an odd combination of uncertainty and trust. It was the latter that did him in. She trusted him to do what must be done. The least he could do was trust himself.

He motioned her to stand by the bed. "We'll make this as quick as possible." Which wouldn't be nearly quick enough. He lifted the oil jar into his hand and poured a drop onto his palm. Rubbing it between his thumbs, he closed the distance between them.

Her sweet scent rose up through the floral scent of shampoo, wrapping itself around him, swamping his senses.

"The first is your temples. The opening of the mind." He slid his fingers into her hair, gripping her small head as his thumbs slid over her temples in a circular motion, rubbing the oil into her beautiful skin. She was so near, the warmth of her flesh ignited his own as she watched him with luminous eyes framed in gold lashes. His gaze slid lower to the light dusting of freckles on her pert nose and the lush curve of her lips parting with her quickening breath.

Her sighs slid over his skin, the need to taste her becoming almost a physical pain. He began to chant softly in the language of the ancients, a chant designed to call her passion. But her need rolled over him in a wave of heat that almost buckled his knees.

"Sweet goddess. No more chanting. Talk. Questions. Ask me questions." The oil was a must, but the passion was going to drown them both if he didn't change the direction of their thoughts.

How in the hell was he going to survive what was left to come?

* * *

Chapter Six

Questions?

How did he expect her to think of questions when she was standing in nothing but a towel, so close she could feel his breath in her hair? Kara's gaze caught on the small triangle of hair in the open vee of Lyon's shirt as his masculine scent sent a river of heat flowing between her legs.

He stepped back and poured a dab of oil into his palm, then dipped his fingers into the oil and traced the scar on her left breast.

"The opening of the heart," he murmured, pressing his fingers into the sensitive flesh and rubbing.

Her chest rose and fell against his fingers in a quickening movement as she pressed into his touch, wanting more. So much more. She looked up into his face and saw her thoughts mirrored perfectly in the passion-filled amber of his eyes.

"Ask me a question, little Radiant," Lyon begged, his voice pained.

Kara struggled for a thought besides the heat swirling through her veins. "I thought…" she breathed, triumphant over the lust that held her in thrall. "I thought you said there were only nine shape-shifters. Pink makes… ten, right?"

"Pink's not actually a shape-shifter so much as a half-animal. When a Feral dies, his animal flees to another within his line. The strongest. Usually it's an adult male. Occasionally a woman or a child, though children are rare in our society. Pink was an identical twin. In Pink's case, we believe the animal flew to her shortly after conception, just before the egg split. The animal became trapped between the two girls. They were both born half-human, half-flamingo. Pink's sister was killed in the belief doing so would free her half of the animal spirit, allowing the entire spirit to go to Pink. But it didn't work. Pink has been trapped within that half-animal body for nearly six hundred years."

"Six hundred?" The true realization of what it meant to be immortal nearly lifted her out of the sensuous haze. "I saw Pink in the dining room. I'm afraid I reacted badly to the sight of her. I need to apologize."