Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(29)

The eight stepped forward, closing around Kara. As Hawke's fingers curled around one slender wrist, power surged into him, a rush of blessed energy. Around him, the others gripped one of Kara's hands, her other wrist, or knelt to grasp one of her ankles. Lyon stood behind her, stroking her slender throat before pressing his palm tenderly against the side of her neck.

Kougar released Kara first and turned to Maxim. One by one, the others followed, Hawke bringing up the rear. Kougar pressed his bloodied palm on top of Maxim's fist. Lyon pressed his atop Kougar's, Paenther's atop Lyon's. One by one they added their blood until only Hawke remained. As he pressed his palm to the top of the pile, his gaze met Maxim's. Hatred arced between them, a live wire of threat shooting both ways. Deep inside, his hawk gave a cry of anger, a cry not directed at him. The bird didn't like the new feral any better than the man did. For once, they were in complete agreement.

Kougar began to chant, switching to English as the others joined in. "Spirits rise and join. Empower the beasts beneath this moon. Goddess, reveal your warrior!"

Thunder rumbled in the cloudless sky, the sound of powerful magic. Beneath Hawke's feet, the rock trembled as if in anticipation of this first shifting of the newest fox.

Maxim threw his head back, a look of bliss racing over his features as he disappeared in a flash of colorful, sparkling lights, shifting into his animal.

Hawke froze, blinking with shock. The huge, strange creature standing within their circle was no fox.

"Holy shit," Jag breathed.

Hawke's jaw dropped as he stared at the cat in their midst. His pulse began to hammer. The animal was nearly the size of an African lion, though far thicker, probably weighing close to twice what Lyon would in his animal form. Its legs were stocky and muscular, its tail bobbed. And from its mouth hung huge twin fangs like seven-inch blades.

The men exchanged shocked glances, uncertain what had just happened.

"A saber-toothed cat," Hawke said out loud, his voice rough with awe and confusion.

"One of the seventeen." Kougar's voice was triumphant. "Ariana must have accidentally freed the animal spirit when she pulled us out."

Understanding arced across the group like a jolt of electricity. Raw excitement filled the mystic circle as the full import crashed over the warriors.

The great cat, its natural cousin long extinct, swung his massive head around until he was staring straight into Hawke's face, threat in his eyes. Hawke pulled his knives. The red haze began to lick at the edges of his vision and rise, showing no sign of stopping. Whatever force sometimes seemed to help him keep it at bay was absent.

Lyon stepped between them, his voice deadly calm. "Shift back, Maxim."

For once, Maxim did as he was told. As Hawke fought back the anger, the cat began to shimmer. Once more, Maxim stood, fully clothed, a look of pure triumph on his arrogant face as he turned to the others.

"Not a fox," he said simply, then threw back his head and laughed.

"Praise the goddess," Jag said. "Maybe this is just the beginning. Maybe they all escaped that trap."

Kougar shook his head. "It's too soon to know." But his eyes gleamed like diamonds.

Around the circle, his brothers' faces shone with joy, relief, wreathed in grin after grin. Hawke got it - this was the break they'd needed, the miracle they'd been waiting for - but it still annoyed the hell out of him that Maxim was the center . . . the cause . . . of such rejoicing.

Beside him, Tighe laughed out loud. "This almost makes it worth being caught in that hell." His gaze met Hawke's, apology, then concern, tightening his features. He reached for him, his hand going to Hawke's shoulder. "You okay?"

The physical contact helped Hawke pull it together. "Yes."

Tighe nodded, but he kept his hand on Hawke's shoulder, his smile gone.

Hawke wondered if they shared the same thought, that the most physically powerful animal belonged to the one among them they couldn't trust.

Kougar's voice rang out. "Henceforth, you will be known among us as Catt."

"How about Tooth?" Jag asked.

Jubilation had shot the ritualistic atmosphere to hell, and no one seemed to care.

Wulfe grinned. "Fang."

Vhyper snorted. "Bob."

Jag shot the snake a comically disbelieving look. "Bob?"

"For his bobbed tail."

Jag groaned, then snorted. "Glad to have you back, Snake Man, oddball sense of humor and all."

"You're one to talk." But even Vhyper's tone held laughter.

Lyon eyed Vhyper with a nod of satisfaction, then pulled Kara back against him as the circle dissolved into backslaps and handshakes, euphoric roars echoing over the rocks. They were nine again, and once the new fox showed up, ten. Maybe more. Maybe, ultimately, twenty-six.

It was a day for celebration. And wary caution. His rival had just gained a strength Hawke could never hope to match.

The men and Kara returned to Feral House to the smell of roasting meat and baking bread, and glasses brimming with bubbly champagne or whiskey. Paenther had called Feral House the moment the ceremony was over to share the news, and they'd returned to a full-fledged celebration.

Still in the foyer, Tighe thrust his glass into the air. "To the full return of the seventeen. May we be twenty-six once more!"