Desire Untamed (Feral Warriors #1)(23)

But the wildness inside him tossed its head in denial. He wanted Kara. Not just in his bed, but by his side. Sharing her thoughts and doubts, gifting him with a smile, and in time, maybe even laughter.

Mine. His beast's claim raged through him, demanding he attack every man in the room and protect what was his. But he was not a beast tonight. He was a man. And the ritual would reveal the truth he would live with.

Kara turned, the firelight catching in the hair that brushed her shoulders, turning it to spun gold. The diaphanous gown whispered over her skin, revealing hints of the woman beneath. Passion rode her skin, ripe and seductive, making Lyon sweat.

Goddess help him, he wanted her. As did every other man in the room. He could see the hunger in their eyes.

Kara's gaze found his, clung to him as if he were her lifeline. Even from where he stood, a good ten feet away, he could see the pulse pounding thickly in her throat. She was afraid. It was all he could do not to goto her.

Kougar, the oldest of the Ferals and the ceremonial head of the circle, pulled out his switchblade, flicked it open, and slit a vein in his wrist. Tighe, standing beside him, handed him the ceremonial bowl that had once been the top of the skull of an ancient and long-dead shape-shifter. Kougar let his blood seep into the bowl, then passed the bowl to Tighe, who did the same. One by one, the warriors added their blood to the bowl until it was Lyon's turn. As the chief, he was last. He slit his own wrist, ignoring the searing pain. Moments later, when blood no longer flowed from the quickly healing cut, he handed the bowl back to Kougar.

Intoning the ancient chant, Kougar moved into the circle. Kara watched the warrior with wide-eyed wariness as he dipped his fingers into the blood and dripped it onto the ground as he circled her slowly three times. Finally, he returned to the main fire, where he poured the remaining blood. The fire spit and rose, turning as blue as the fingertips of the man who would ultimately be chosen tonight.

Kara's gaze flew to Lyon. The gazes of every man in the room turned to him as well. He was Chief of the Feral Warriors and it was his place to go first… or turn the honor over to another.

Mine, his beast raged. Lyon clamped down hard on the wildness of his animal, but he was nearly out of control.

"Paenther," he called, his voice tight with the effort. He would not touch her until he was certain he could kiss her and back away.

"Roar?" Paenther questioned. "Are you sure?"

"It's my right to choose the order," Lyon snapped. "Go." He clenched his fists at his sides as the beast within him railed at the betrayal, and his body shook with the need to have her.

As Paenther strode forward, Kara's gaze locked on Lyon and he could see plainly that his beast wasn't the only one who felt betrayed.

Paenther stopped in front of her in his black leather pants, his black hair loose about his shoulders. Tentatively, Kara turned to face him, her shoulders tight, her arms trembling at her sides. The warrior reached for her and she reared back.

Only Paenther's quick hands on her forearms kept her from falling. "Easy, Radiant. I won't hurt you."

"I don't like this," she murmured, her pleading gaze flying back to Lyon.

His chest tightened, yet he steeled himself against her silent plea.

"This is the way it is done," Paenther said, his voice low and tight.

Jealousy curled deep in Lyon's gut as Paenther covered the soft flesh of Kara's shoulders with his hands and pulled her against his chest, skin to skin, slowly leaning forward to kiss her.

Rage tore through him, his beast ripping to get tree. Mine!

Paenther pulled back and stepped away from her, holding up his hands. Hands that held no blue flame within their tips.

Lyon was shaking. He couldn't do this. He couldn't stand here, watching, as the others kissed her, wondering if she was somehow meant for him.

"Me next?" Tighe asked.

"No," Lyon growled. He wanted this over with. Either she was his, or she wasn't, and he wasn't waiting any longer to find out. If she wasn't, he'd at least get a last kiss. And if she was? No one was touching her ever again. Ever. Again.

The relief and welcome in her eyes as he approached nearly drove him to his knees. His hands shook with the need to pull her into his arms. For once he didn't have to fight the urge. He cupped her bare shoulders and pulled her against him, his passion igniting and flaring into a wildfire with the first brush of his heated flesh against her silken skin. Her br**sts pebbled against his bare chest. Her scent rose up, clouding his mind, ensnaring him in a haze of lust that was almost too thick to breathe.

When he covered her mouth, reason fled. Her sweetness drugged him, stealing all thought but the certainty she was the only sustenance he would ever need. His hands pressed against her back, pulling her closer as her own hands swept up to catch in his hair, holding him tight.

His tongue swept inside the lush cavern of her mouth, seeking its mate, drawing small moans from her throat that grew in force until she was rocking against him. In a far, distant corner of his mind, he remembered where they were. Remembered they stood within the circle of his fellows. He should let her go and step back.

But his beast roared, Mine! and he increased the pressure of his tongue strokes instead, marking her, his beast daring the goddess to ignore his claim. In a trembling rush, Kara came apart in his arms, clinging to him as soft whimpers escaped her throat.

Lyon continued to kiss her, drinking in the heady taste of her release until the torrent passed, and she clung to him. Slowly, regretfully, he released her mouth and held her tight against him until she could stand on her own.