Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(30)

A loud cheer erupted as the Ferals and their mates all joined in.

Maxim stood at the center, thrusting his glass into the air. "To the sabertooth!" With his free hand, he pulled Faith against his side, nuzzling her neck, making her squirm. His gaze cut to Hawke, a malicious gleam in his eye.

"Ignore him," Tighe said quietly beside him.

Hawke forced himself to look away, throwing back half his whiskey. He couldn't let Maxim get to him. He had too much to lose.

"Bringing him into his animal doesn't seem to have improved his manners," Delaney said under her breath. "If anything, he's even more obnoxious."

The thought of spending a lifetime with this prick, watching him paw Faith . . . Dammit, this was his own fault. If he'd hidden his interest in her, as he should have, Maxim wouldn't be trying to provoke him.

Delaney moved away to grab the stack of T-shirts on the hall table, all black, all XXL. As she handed them out, the men set down their glasses and pulled them over their heads. They might be half animals, but they ate their meals with shirts on. And the celebration feast would soon be served.

"Why are Feral celebrations so . . . tame?" Maxim demanded, taking the T-shirt Delaney offered with a look of distaste. "We need music, revelry!"

Hawke forced himself to look elsewhere because if he looked at Maxim, he'd just see Faith.

"In the old days, the celebrations were anything but tame." Kougar's quiet words silenced the group as nothing else would have short of a sharp command by Lyon.

"The old days?" Maxim asked.

Kougar nodded. "Five thousand years ago. Before the Sacrifice. Though I can only speak for the cougar clan." A hush descended as all heads swiveled toward him, every expression intrigued. Only very recently had Kougar begun to talk of the past.

"In those days, when all Therians were shifters, a celebration began with a friendly, if bloody fight, generally in our cats, males and females alike. A fight that quickly turned sexual in nature."

"An orgy?" Jag asked with relish.

A small smile lifted the corner of Kougar's mouth. "Unlike any orgy you've ever imagined. Several dozen cougar shifters copulating in both flesh and fur, shifting back and forth with abandon. The lights and energy from the shifting fueled the sexual excitement, building until we were crazed with lust."

With all eyes focused on Kougar, Hawke risked a glance at Faith. Their gazes collided, his pulse leaping then plummeting at the look of unhappiness in her eyes. Resolutely, she turned back to Kougar. Hawke could feel her discomfort, could see the tense lines of her body and knew she was frustrated by this war that wouldn't end and embarrassed by Maxim's public displays of . . . ownership. Not another woman in the room squirmed away from her mate's touches. Even Jag treated his mate with respect and tenderness. In a room full of celebration, Faith wasn't happy. And he wanted her to be. Fiercely.

"When the majority were sated," Kougar continued, "we'd take off on a wild hunt of real game, killing and feasting in our cats."

If he pretended he no longer had any interest in her, would she turn to her intended mate and find true happiness there, as she'd believed she would? He had to give her that chance. He had to pretend well enough that he started to believe it himself.

"We were much closer to our animal natures back then, almost entirely lacking in human inhibition."

All were silent for several moments, absorbing Kougar's words and the vision he'd painted of a far-more-primitive time.

"It might be time to open a few windows," Vhyper drawled, earning a few chuckles. "They're starting to steam."

"Food's up, Dudes!" Xavier called from the hallway leading back to the kitchen and dining room. The young human had been caught by the Daemons in the same battle that had sent Hawke and Tighe into the spirit trap. Now he'd been snared in a different kind of trap, unable to leave Feral House until or unless they found a way to steal his memories of that night as they had the two women who'd survived along with him. The problem was that Xavier was blind. And memories could only be stolen through the eyes.

Beside him, Wulfe muttered, "Dudes," with a resigned shake of his head. "Always Dudes."

"Wulfe?" Xavier called.

Wulfe grimaced guiltily. "Yeah, X-man? I'm right here."

"Any news of Nat?"

"Who's Nat?" Hawke asked.

Wulfe glanced at him, a funny look in his eyes. A hint of soft longing that had Hawke's curiosity spiking. "Natalie. Xavier's sister. She was one of the ones the Mage had staked around the vortex you fell into."

"Shit."

"She's fine. Now. It took us about a week to clear her memories and free her." Wulfe turned to Xavier. "I haven't heard anything in a few days, X. That's good news though. If there were a problem, the reporters would be all over it."

Xavier's face fell drastically. Being blind, he had no concept of hiding his emotions. "Let me know if you hear anything, will you, Dude?"

Wulfe rolled his eyes, meeting Hawke's gaze. "I will, Dude."

They filed into the dining room, gathering around the huge table. Though he usually sat in the middle, Hawke joined Lyon and Kara at the opposite end from where Maxim seated Faith, on the same side, so he wouldn't even be tempted to look at her. Part of him wanted to avoid the meal altogether, but that was the worst thing to do if he wanted to start making everyone believe he didn't care.