Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(31)

As the dishes were served, conversation remained on saber-toothed cats and speculation that others marked by the seventeen lost animal spirits might start coming forward. Maxim's voice plucked at Hawke's nerves all too often. Faith's, he never heard.

The interminable meal was nearly over when Lyon's cell phone rang. He excused himself and took the call in the hallway. A few minutes later, he returned, beaming, or as close to beaming as Hawke had ever seen the Chief of the Ferals. At least, when his gaze wasn't wholly captured by his mate.

"Another new Feral?" Tighe asked, his voice rich with anticipation.

Lyon smiled. "Two."

"Hot damn!" Jag crowed.

"That was Kieran, a Therian Guard stationed near Dublin."

"I know him," Olivia exclaimed. "Oh my god, Kieran a Feral Warrior? The entire female population of the planet is about to get heart palpitations."

"As if they don't already whenever they look at one of our guys," Delaney said.

Olivia lowered her voice to a bare whisper, but Feral hearing being what it was, Hawke heard, as did every male at the table. "You haven't seen Kieran. He's . . . golden. Utterly beautiful and an Irish charmer of the first order." She laughed. "He's a doll, but . . ."

"But you only have eyes for me." Jag hooked his arm around his mate's neck and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her temple.

The look Olivia turned on her mate started out teasing, then melted into one of such certainty, such devotion, it made Hawke's chest ache a little.

"I will only ever have eyes for you." She kissed him back on the mouth, then pulled away slowly. "But Kieran's a good friend, an excellent fighter, and, despite his unnatural beauty, doesn't take himself too seriously. I think he'll fit in well here."

Several pairs of eyes cut toward Maxim as if all shared the same thought . . . unlike their new sabertooth.

"Good," Lyon said. "Kieran just realized he'd been marked though he doesn't know when it happened. His feral marks aren't where he could see them. He got into a fight with another guard just now, and they both went feral. Shocked them both and everyone watching."

"Who's the other one?" Olivia asked.

"He didn't say. He wanted to know if such a thing were possible, and I told him to get both their asses on the next flight. I'll have to notify the heads of the Therian councils to spread the word." A satisfied smile lifted his mouth. "It seems that at least some of the seventeen have returned. At long last."

"I can't wait to see these new animals," Kara murmured.

Olivia made a sound of agreement. "I want to know when we're going to see our sabertooth."

"Now." Maxim - Hawke refused to give him the honor of his Feral name - rose from his seat with an exuberant burst that had Hawke's fingers flexing around the handle of his fork.

"In the gym," Lyon ordered, as Maxim stepped back a few feet from the table.

But the newest Feral had yet to learn to follow the dictates of their chief. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes and began to sparkle with a thousand colored lights. As the large saber-toothed cat materialized, most at the table rose, those closest moving away, those on the other side of the table coming around for a better look until the great sabertooth stood at the center of a large semicircle.

Hawke glanced at Faith. She was staring at the cat with an awe that pricked at his nerves. As if the creature were the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen. And he probably was.

Maxim lifted that massive head and gave a roar unlike any of the other cats - a deep, rumbling staccato, almost like a series of barks. A sound not heard in six hundred years. And not heard in nature in twelve thousand. With his jaw opened fully, he was a sight to behold, those fangs gleaming in the light from the dining-room chandelier.

Vhyper grunted. "Fairfax County Animal Control is going to shit in their collective pants if they ever get an eyeful of this one."

Closing his mouth again, fangs hanging down nearly to his chin, the great cat began to pace in a circle, closer and closer to the other Ferals and their mates, swinging his head from side to side as if he longed to snatch one for dessert.

The mated males all angled themselves between their women and the huge predatory creature. Across the room, Faith backed up against the far wall. Alone.

Everything inside Hawke demanded he go to her, protect her as the other males protected their women. He took a step, then paused as he felt Lyon's hand on his arm.

"Don't," Lyon said quietly.

But every muscle in Hawke's body tensed with the need to protect.

Mine.

No. She wasn't. He forced himself to stand down as that great head swung toward Faith, as the great cat slowly stalked her.

Lyon's grip on his arm tightened. "He won't hurt her." Not the woman he intended to make his mate.

The problem was, deep in his gut, Hawke didn't believe it. His own animal screeched in his head, demanding he act, but he forced himself to remain rooted, watching as the cat bumped his head against Faith's hip playfully, if roughly, making her stumble a couple of steps sideways.

Faith laughed, her hands pressing against the cat's large forehead. But Hawke could sense the primitive fear in her warring with the fascination, and he suspected Maxim could, too. And like any bully, Maxim enjoyed that fear.