Desire Untamed (Feral Warriors #1)(79)

Kara stripped out of her clothes as she watched him, her love for him stronger than anything she'd ever felt in her life. She was sure of what she was doing. They had to be able to reach their animals.

But she wasn't positive she was going to live through it. Deep in her soul, she knew Lyon was the love of her life, but whether the Earth knew that was another matter. And if the Earth disagreed, she was dead. But this death would be different than the one she'd faced before. This time it was on her terms. For the right reason. In the arms of the man she loved.

Lyon came to her with a blue gown, its sleeves long and full. She lifted her arms for him to put it over her head.

"Not yet," he said. He tossed the gown on the bed, yanked off his shirt, and pulled the silver armband with the lion's head off his arm.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as he hooked it around her upper arm, squeezing it tight. "I thought you needed that."

"This is the way it's done." He picked up her gown and she lifted her arms for him to slide it over her. The dress fell to her ankles in a soft, silken cloud, the wide sleeves brushing the backs of her hands.

Lyon pulled his shirt back on, then gripped her shoulders, his hands steady and firm, his eyes dark, deep, and pained. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever known." His hands slid to frame her face. "I love you, Kara. If there was any way but this, I would choose it. But this is the way it has to be."

She covered his hands with her own. "I'm not going to die, Lyon. You're my mate. I know it's you."

He kissed her softly, then pulled away, closing his eyes as if he couldn't bear for her to see the pain in them. "Let's go."

As they went out the back door, she looked at the dark sky with trepidation. "What about the draden?"

"We have a sacred circle in the backyard. The men have already raised the Feral Circle. We'll be as well protected here as on the goddess stone."

The sacred fires were already lit and the flames cast shadows over the faces of the three men waiting for them. Tighe, Paenther, and Jag stood barefoot, divested of jackets and belts, but otherwise fully clothed. She suspected they usually shifted in the nude and was glad for Lyon's intervention. It was hard enough to accept what she was going to have to do in front of them, but to watch their bodies reacting to it would have been too much.

No, she amended. It would have been uncomfortable, but that was all. She was more than prepared to do whatever she must to give these men the power they needed to defeat Zaphene and save the world.

Lyon squeezed her hand. "Don't call the fire until I say." He pulled her into the center of the circle and into his arms. His mouth covered hers in a fierce kiss of love and possession and aching loss.

He thought he was going to lose her. She could feel it in the way he held her, could sense his sorrow in every touch. He thought she was going to die.

But when she tried to pull away to reassure him, he held her fast. His tongue slid against hers with frantic strokes, sending fire pouring through her body until she was clinging to him, moaning with need, a second away from release.

He pulled back, leaving her wanting, and gripped her head, his gaze boring into hers. "I love you. I've lived more these past days with you than I have in seven hundred years. Live for me, Kara. You have to live."

She smiled, tears gathering in her eyes. He loved her. What's more he knew it. "I'm not going to die," she whispered, despite the fear beginning to lap at her courage.

"No. You're not."

He shoved his tongue into her mouth once more, nearly sending her over the edge, then pulled back and turned her around to face the three men.

To her surprise, Jag leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

Paenther did the same on the other side. "Stay with us, Kara." He pulled out his knife. "I'll make the cuts shallow. Give me your hand."

He made a tiny cut in her palm, then a mirroring cut in Tighe's. Tighe held out his hands to her. "I'll hold you steady." When she placed her hands in his, he kissed her forehead. "This is going to work, Kara. We're not going to lose you."

Jag and Paenther knelt on one knee on either side of her. Paenther sliced each of their palms, made small cuts in each of her ankles, then tossed the knife into the grass.

Kara looked over her shoulder, needing to see the man she loved more than life, meeting Lyon's gaze for perhaps the last time. His eyes caressed her and loved her as hers did him.

"Turn around, sweetheart," he said softly. "Tighe."

While Lyon gripped her hips, Tighe stepped back, forcing her to bend over.

Paenther murmured odd words, intoning the ritual chant.

Her pulse began to race with an odd mixture of embarrassment, excitement, and fear. Lyon's hands squeezed her hips gently, reassuring her, sending a cascade of warm, damp need to her throbbing center.

"Call the fire, Kara," Lyon said softly. "But don't go radiant. Not until I say."

Tighe squeezed her hands, telegraphing his tension, a tension she suspected they all shared. She didn't want to die. Not now. Not when she'd found her place. Her heart.

She took a deep breath, finding her courage, then concentrated on pulling the fire.

"Done," Tighe said. Tendrils of blue flame leaked out between their clasped hands.

The sound of Lyon's zipper sliding and the faint rustle of clothing behind her sent her pulse into orbit. She felt him lift her dress, felt the cool breeze waft over her bare flesh. Lyon's fingers curled around her hips.