Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(41)

No instinct reared up to block her, so she stepped back, letting him in, then closed the door behind him.

"Turn on a light, Faith."

"Do I have to?" She could see him well enough in the moonlight filtering through the trees outside. At least she could see his shadowed form. And she preferred the dark these days. In the dark, she was safe.

"I want to see you."

With a sigh, she flipped the switch, illuminating the bedside lamp, then turned away from the light that blinded, turning her back to Hawke.

"Look at me, Faith." His words were velvety soft, achingly gentle despite the thread of steel that told her he would not take no for an answer.

"I'm blinded," she grumbled.

He chuckled, the sound holding little humor but a wealth of tenderness. "You'll get used to it soon enough."

The ache beneath her breastbone swelled and spread. In some corner of her mind, she knew that Hawke could banish the nightmares if only she remembered them. If only she didn't belong to Maxim.

Slowly, she turned to face him. He stood a few feet away, his hands now shoved into his front jeans pockets, his eyes watching her, probing as if he could look inside her, all the way down to the soles of her feet.

"What's happened, Faith? Where has your light gone?"

She swallowed, caught in the power of his gaze, her pulse hammering, her emotions in turmoil. "I don't know." She wanted to cry, to dive into his arms, to turn and run.

"What's he done to you?"

"Nothing."

"He's hurt you."

"No! He would never hurt me. Maxim loves me."

He shook his head, his face a mask of disbelief. "That's the cry of abused women everywhere! They hide it, even from themselves, justifying their men's behavior."

"I'm not!" She rounded on him. "I've been helping abused girls for decades. I would never . . . never . . . allow a man to treat me that way. Never! I'm not justifying." Tears began to threaten, and she dashed at one that escaped her eye. "He. Is. Not. Hurting me."

Pain tightened his features, and he turned away, tipping his head back. For long moments, she watched that rigid back, aching with a need to comfort him, trembling from the battle raging inside her - the longing for one man and the devotion to another.

"I love him, Hawke," she said softly.

Finally, he turned back, his eyes filled with misery. "Then tell me why you're so sad."

Why was she? She didn't even know.

You know, her heart cried. It's because you need Hawke, but it's Maxim you belong to.

"I don't know." If only she'd never left Warsaw. If only . . . "I want to go home."

He stared at her for long seconds. "You're homesick?" After a moment, he sighed, a big exhalation, the tension draining from his shoulders. "I guess that might do it." But he didn't sound convinced.

"I miss the girls I've been trying to help, Paulina and Maria." The words started and wouldn't stop because Hawke would understand. "Maria's so young and too old for her age, but she still has this wonder inside her, this belief that life is good. Paulina knows better. She's so bitter, but she has this brilliant artistic talent, and if she ever got her hands on paints and canvas, all that angst would come pouring out and maybe, just maybe, heal her." She caught her breath, then sighed. "I wonder if they're all right."

"Maybe Catt will let you go back to visit them."

"He will." This she knew with utter assurance. "We'll go back in a couple of weeks."

"There you have it." Despite his words, Hawke watched her as if he wanted to continue arguing, as if he still weren't entirely convinced. His gaze dipped to the floor, then back up, giving her a small, sad smile. "You'll be happy here once you get used to it. Once everything settles down."

"I'm sure you're right."

He nodded again, then glanced unenthusiastically toward the door. "I guess I'd better go."

"Yes. Good night, Hawke."

He reached for the door handle, then looked back, meeting her gaze, his eyes at once gentle and sad, and a little bit fierce. "If you ever need me, I'm here for you. You know that."

"Yes, I know."

"Good night, Faith." Then he opened the door and left, closing it behind him.

As she stood there, staring at the closed door where Hawke had been moments before, she began to tremble, then shake. The tears that had threatened moments before began to flow in earnest as the nightmare's shadows flayed her mind, memories that remained just out of reach. Horrible, terrifying memories.

The tears turned to wracking sobs.

Hawke, I need you. I need you.

She slid to the floor, curling into a fetal ball on the rug.

Don't go.

"Spirits rise and join," the Ferals chanted upon the goddess rock an hour before dawn. "Empower the beasts beneath this moon. Goddess, reveal your warriors!"

Thunder rumbled in the moon-bright sky. The rocks began to tremble as the eight new Ferals disappeared in a flash of sparkling lights, animals appearing in their places.

Hawke stared at the incredible sight, goose bumps rising on his flesh. An unnaturally large fox now stood where Kieran had a moment ago, which made sense since Kieran didn't seem to be suffering the testosterone overload some of the others had. The fox spirit had never been in the spirit trap. Mountain Man, the one with anger-management issues, had turned into a grizzly. Just what they needed. Ewan was now a polar bear. On either side of him paced two other animals more suited to arctic climes than Washington, D.C. suburbs - a snow leopard and a huge white tiger. The last three were a lynx, a crocodile, and an eagle. Finally, he'd have some company in the skies. If he were ever able to fly again.