Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(38)

Her gaze flicked to one of the hallways that led off the foyer, then the other, but she saw no sign of him. Where was he?

"Told you he was beautiful," Olivia said with a grin, giving Kieran a big kiss on the cheek. "He's a god, aren't you, Kieran, my love?"

The big blond grinned, his smile as movie-star perfect as the rest of him. "I'm a god." But his expression was deadpan, his voice, lightly dusted with an Irish brogue, ironic, the laughter in his eyes pointed clearly at himself.

"Adonis in the flesh." Olivia moved to his side and introduced him to Lyon first. Once the men had slapped forearms, she took Kieran by the elbow and turned him to Jag, then slipped from his side to Jag's, sliding her arms tight around Jag's waist. "This is my mate."

Faith tensed, certain she was about to witness another explosion of male pride and jealousy, certain the two big men were about to go feral. But Kieran grabbed Jag's hand and shook it hard, his expression close to awe.

"I never thought I'd see the day that Olivia took a mate. A thousand men have tried to win her, and failed. You must be one hell of a man."

Jag snorted. "I might decide I like you, Pretty Boy."

Kieran laughed, the sound as beautiful as the rest of him. "One of these days, you'll have to tell me your secret."

Jag cut his eyes at Olivia, his tone turning soft and loving. "That story's not mine to tell."

Kieran nodded with approval. "I just might decide I like you, too, boyo."

Jag clapped the newest Feral on the shoulder, and the three started for the living room and the third welcome reception in as many days. Three new Ferals in addition to Maxim, and another five on the way. So far.

As everyone started toward the living room, Kara slipped through the crowd to join Faith, eyeing her curiously. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

Kara's gaze flicked to Maxim and back again. "Good. I'm glad. Jag, Olivia, and I are going shopping later. We need more sheets and towels. Most of the rooms on the third floor have never been used, but if new Ferals keep arriving, we're going to be filling them all. Would you like to come shopping with us?"

Oh, she would! She'd love to see something of America other than the airport and Feral House. Going on a shopping adventure with Kara and Olivia would be wonderful. But before she could open her mouth to say yes, something clicked in her mind. I belong with Maxim. She found herself shaking her head. "I'm going to stay with Maxim."

Kara gave her a curious look, then smiled. "Okay. Maybe another time."

As Kara turned away, Maxim took Faith by the arm and steered her toward the stairs. Toward his bedchamber. A stab of fear bolted through her mind, her pulse beginning to race, her skin growing damp. What was wrong with her? They were only going upstairs. Clearly, Maxim didn't feel like suffering through another social gathering.

Her feet dragged, her gaze darting back to the foyer, seeking Hawke. The need to see him welled up so thick and so suddenly that her eyes began to sting. The litany in her mind continued. I belong to Maxim. I belong to Maxim.

But her heart cried out for Hawke.

Chapter Eight

Four days later, Hawke stood with Lyon and Kougar in the doorway of the media room, observing - babysitting - six of the newly marked Feral Warriors, who sprawled across the room, cheering on one team or the other, leaping, shouting, and shoving one another. So far, no blood had been spilled, but the soccer match was only twenty minutes old. Since they'd started showing up five days ago, there had been nearly constant fights, constant arguments, the testosterone thick as tar. If the past five days were anything to go by, the blood would start spilling soon enough. They'd already destroyed all the televisions in the media room and two of the sofas. Kara had forced a couple of them to accompany her and Wulfe in hunting down replacements at local yard sales.

"There's no sense in bringing in new ones when they'll only wind up at the dump in a couple of days," she'd said reasonably.

The walls were a mess, holes in the plaster the size of fists, of heads, and occasionally of entire bodies.

"I've seen new Ferals arrive in groups before," Lyon muttered, "but I've never seen it this bad."

"It may be the spirit trap," Hawke said. "I heard the animals in there, their cries of pain. Centuries of that has to be screwing with them. And, in turn, the men they've marked."

Kougar grunted, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. "Every one of you arrived at Feral House raging with testosterone. Paenther nearly dug Lyon's heart out. Jag didn't want to be here. Both Lyon and Wulfe went feral on anyone who looked at them sideways." He glanced at Hawke, his eyes narrowing. "You kept it bottled better than most, but it was there. Raw anger tempered by raging grief." He shook his head. "I was concerned about you, worried you were going to erupt before it was over, but you got it under control."

Hawke nodded. "Then." He sure as hell wasn't in control, now.

Kougar leaned closer until their shoulders touched. "You'll do it again. I have no doubt you'll come through this as you did the other, Wings. No doubt at all."

"That makes one of us." Everyone had tried to help him with no success - the healer Esmeria, the Shaman, Skye with her enchantress's gifts, and over and over again, Kara. The second time Kara had given him radiance after his thirty-seven-hour free flight, he'd felt flat-out pain, like he'd touched something electrical that he shouldn't have. It had been all he could do to hang on and not reveal his weakness. But like the last time, it hadn't gotten any better. And he'd declined radiance ever since.