Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(73)

"Dammit!" Lyon grabbed him when swayed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Hawke didn't answer. His jaw felt welded shut.

"Let me see your feral marks," his chief demanded even as he turned him and yanked his shirt up his back, exposing his right shoulder. "They're fading."

Hawke's heart sank as the last hope that he and his hawk would ultimately heal died. As his jaw slowly released, he turned to face Lyon. The grief in his friend's eyes punched him hard. Lyon had known him since the day he was born. He'd helped raise him. They all had.

But when Faith came to him, wrapping her arms around him, it was the tears and grief in her eyes that slew him. Who would protect her when he was gone? Who would champion her?

Who would love her as she deserved and needed to be loved?

He'd known he was getting worse, known that if he and his hawk didn't reconnect, he'd eventually die. But until that moment, he hadn't felt it deep in his gut. Now he did. His fading feral marks were proof.

His immortal life was nearing its end.

"We have a plan," Ariana announced several hours later.

The nine were gathered around the war room's huge conference table along with their wives. And Faith. Hawke glanced at her, seated beside him. Her face was flushed, her hair damp and curling slightly at her temples, her scent the delicate musk of clean sweat, making him think of slick, hot bodies rolling in the sheets . . . or clinging to one another in the library. But the workout he'd been putting her through for the past few hours hadn't been sexual. He'd designated himself her personal trainer and had been running her through the house, ordering her to drop and do push-ups, sit-ups, whatever he could think of, until she was glaring at him as if she were about to start throwing knives again. This time at him.

Which was okay. He wanted her strong and ready when the time came to prove her worth to Lyon and the others. Even if she hadn't been the one meant to be marked, he suspected the Ferals would ultimately accept into their permanent ranks any of the new Ferals who could prove themselves to be genuine assets. And Hawke was determined that Faith would do that. It was the one thing he wanted before his time was up. To leave her safe.

"The Shaman remembered an ancient ritual performed long ago by one of my Ilina predecessors. Since I possess most of the memories of the Ilina queens who came before me, I've been searching for the right one. We think I've found it, but it's going to take a special magic - a magic that can only be accessed in the Cave of the Mystics."

The Shaman was grinning. "That cave was lost millennia ago. At least to those of us who can't turn to mist. Ariana assures me that she and her maidens can take us there."

"Ilina travel? I'd rather regrow my legs again," Jag muttered. He and Paenther had gotten back about an hour ago, good as new.

"What about your cock?" Vhyper asked.

"No." The word sounded strangled. "Not that. I'd take misting back and forth all day before I'd go through that again."

"Where is this cave?" Lyon asked.

"African Sahara." The Shaman folded his hands on the table in front of him. "The cave and its power are as old as time. If we can access it, I believe we can cure the new Ferals of this dark magic."

Lyon nodded. "Good."

Vhyper grunted, tugging on his earring. "Do we want to cure them all? Sabertooth sounds like he was a nasty piece of work long before he was marked." Hawke was no longer the only one who refused to give Maxim the respect of his Feral name. No one referred to him as Catt anymore.

"A valid question." Lyon paced. "The Georgetown enclave is working on digging up information on the men who were marked. They've already sent me what they've found on Lynks and Grizz. Lynks has been a member of his French enclave for twenty-two years, mostly in the capacity of cook. He's well enough liked and puts a lot of time into the local human community, working with children. Grizz is a little more problematic. He's portrayed as a loner with a reputation for causing trouble, which comes as no real surprise."

"Hey." Jag shrugged. "Someone has to cause the trouble. This place is going to get dull with me all happy and shit."

Fox snorted. "You just got chomped in half by a gator fighting beside a saber-toothed cat. If this is dull, I'd hate to see exciting."

Lyon cleared his voice. "Unfortunately, the kind of trouble Grizz causes isn't the verbal kind. He leads with his fists."

"Who are his targets? Humans or immortals?" Tighe asked.

"Both." That kind of force from an immortal tended to be deadly against humans.

"He may have a good reason," Kara said.

Lyon nodded. "I agree. But he's not just a man anymore. In addition to being a Feral, he's a dangerous grizzly when he chooses to be. That could work to our advantage or to our detriment. Even clear of the infection, I don't know if he can be trusted to protect our backs. I don't know if he can be trusted with our women." He rubbed his hand across his mouth, his tone and body language as undecided as Hawke had ever seen them. "I'm putting this up for a vote. We either cure him, welcome him into our ranks, and trust him until proved wrong. Or we kill him. Tonight. And let the grizzly spirit mark another."

Silence fell over the room. To Hawke's knowledge, such a vote had never been taken, certainly not in recent centuries. But never before had they had reason to doubt that the right Therian had been marked to be a Feral.