Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(64)

Her own life might have gotten off to a rocky start, but she'd turned abandonment into a life's work, doing good on a level he'd rarely seen among Therians. What if she really was the one meant to be marked? Her heart was certainly big enough. And physical strength wasn't everything. Besides, the physical strength would come with the animal that had chosen her. Perhaps she'd never be able to take on a Mage in her human form, but as a bear or large cat or one of the other animals that had yet to appear, she could be formidable indeed.

He stroked her head as it lay on his chest. What if she really was meant to be one of the Feral Warriors? To live at Feral House. With him.

A thrill of excitement tripped his pulse, then quickly died.

Of course, any future with Faith depended upon his animal and him healing this rift in their bond, surviving this breach. Perhaps once the Shaman came up with a cure for the darkness, the cure would help him, too. A future with Faith also depended upon his convincing the others that she was meant for this role, that her marking wasn't a mistake.

His arms tightened around her as love roared through him. Hardest of all would be convincing Faith herself.

Hawke held Faith's hand as they descended the stairs midafternoon. She'd slept the sleep of the dead for hours, and he'd held her, dozing some, worrying more. When she'd awoken, he'd told her his belief that her marking was no accident. As he'd suspected, she didn't believe him, but he'd gotten a very sweet kiss for saying it. A kiss that had quickly heated to full-blown passion. He'd made love to her thoroughly, then carried her into the shower and made love to her again. He couldn't get enough of her body or that smile of hers, which bloomed every time he pleased her, or that darling, infectious giggle, filling him with a pleasure of the heart that rivaled the pleasure of the body, a joy of boundless proportions that made him want to throw his head back and laugh.

Every time with her was more incredible than the last. Making love to Faith was so different from sex with anyone else that he began to feel as if he'd never really done it before. As if his eyes had been opened for the first time to what lovemaking truly meant.

Just as he was fighting to hold on to his animal and stay alive.

As they reached the foyer, she looked up at him, worry in her eyes. He squeezed her hand, dreading the meeting to come. They had to tell Lyon that she'd been marked, and they both knew it.

The smell of roast beef and the rumble of voices told him where to find the others. As he suspected, they were gathered around the dining table, the wall of windows behind them fully repaired. Hawke seated Faith two chairs down from Kougar and took the seat between, grabbing a couple of plates.

"Can I serve you?" he asked her.

She met his gaze. "I'm not hungry." Her hands twisted nervously in her lap, matching, he suspected, the knots twisting her stomach.

"I'll just give you a little. You need your strength."

"I need a lot more than I can get from food."

"You already have a lot more than you recognize." He put a couple of slabs of warm roast beef on her plate and added two freshly baked rolls, then filled his own plate to overflowing.

As he ate, his brothers' conversation flowed around him, talk that ranged from adding defenses around Feral House to the need to track down the new Ferals.

"First, we have to find a way to cure them of this infection." Tighe reached for the roast-beef platter.

The Shaman looked up from his nearly empty plate. "I would like to speak with your mate, Kougar. I have an idea, but I'll need her help."

Kougar nodded. "I'll ask her."

Hawke caught Lyon's gaze. "Where's Kara?"

"Still sleeping."

Tighe cut his chief a sly look. "Something you're not telling us, Roar? Is my son going to have a playmate?"

Lyon shook his head. "She's not pregnant. Just tired." He frowned. "She hasn't been feeling right since the Renascence. Since Maxim's, apparently. Too many new Ferals pulling energy from her."

"It may be the darkness," the Shaman murmured.

The Chief of the Feral's gaze snapped to the much smaller man. "What do you mean?"

"Darkness is always hungry for power, for energy. If the new Ferals hadn't been infected, I doubt they'd be draining her like this. Perhaps with most of the infected Ferals now gone, she'll recover soon."

Lyon nodded. "I hope you're right."

Hawke set down his fork. He didn't see any easy way to lead up to what he needed to say, so he didn't try. "Faith has been marked."

All eyes swiveled his way, his brothers' expressions a mix of shock and confusion.

"Marked?" Tighe asked.

"To be a Feral Warrior."

Lyon set down his fork, his brows lowered, his gaze pinning Faith. "When?"

Tension ripped through Hawke's body.

"I don't know," Faith said beside him, her voice clear and sure despite the fear she had to be feeling.

Hawke didn't turn to watch her. He wasn't taking his eyes off his brothers. Or his chief.

"I didn't have any idea. Not until last night." Her voice wavered only slightly before evening out again. "I told you I escaped Maxim before he could cloud my mind. What I didn't tell you is that I went feral. It shocked us both, giving me a chance to get away before he could stop me. I looked for the feral marks this morning and found them on the back of my thigh." Her calm evaporated in a trembling draw of breath, and a whispered, "I didn't know."