Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(90)

She looked up at him, pain darkening her eyes. "You're giving up."

He released a frustrated sigh. "I don't know how to do what the hawk wants me to do. You tell me to trust him, yet he digs his talons into my head trying to claw my brains out."

"He's trying to hold on to you, not hurt you."

"You can't know that."

For a moment she was silent, her eyes unfocusing as if she listened to a noise he couldn't hear, as if she were listening to the voice of the falcon.

"The connection has been splintering. That's the pain you feel. He yells at you to help him, to do something, and he clings to you to keep the splintering from getting worse."

Hawke stared at her in stunned silence. And felt the truth of her words wash through him. That initial, lightninglike pain he always felt was the connection fraying. The hawk's cries were of anger, as he'd suspected. But maybe not for the reason he'd believed. If what Faith said was true, he was mad that Hawke did nothing to fix the damage. And he'd been trying to do it himself.

Slowly, the band that had been squeezing his chest began to loosen, that feeling of betrayal. He'd thought the hawk had turned against him. He'd thought he'd been trying to punish him. Instead, he'd been trying to save him.

"The falcon says that the only way for you to reconnect with your animal spirit is to give up control. Become one mind, one will. But you must do it soon, Hawke. Your connection to him is nearly gone. One more tug-of-war between you, and it'll snap." She looked up at him, her eyes dark with misery. "If that happens, why can't he just mark you again?"

"It doesn't work that way. There is no re-marking."

Pain lanced her eyes. "Hawke." She stilled again. "The falcon says she wishes she could help you, but this is something you have to do on your own."

He lifted a brow. "She?"

"Her voice is female."

He stared at her. "You're really speaking to your animal spirit."

"Not in words, not exactly. Certainly not in English or any human language. But she communicates with me in perfect thoughts. And she hears mine in return."

"That's incredible."

An intoxicating gleam entered her eyes, the gleam of certain confidence, as a smile of self-assurance lifted her lovely mouth. "She chose me. She told me that she fought hard to claim me, that we'd be magnificent together."

Part of him wanted to discount her claim as fiction - never had he known a Feral whose spirit animal spoke to him. But he felt the truth of her words, knew them in his heart. The tiny pinch of jealousy washed away in the gratitude that rushed through him for the falcon spirit.

"You weren't chosen by mistake." Though he'd told her that over and over and tried to believe it himself, wanted to believe it, the evidence had been overwhelming otherwise. But having watched her zip through the trees and shift as she landed, he no longer had any doubt.

Faith stood before him in the oversized blue T-shirt he'd put on her in the prisons, her legs and feet bare, her blue-tipped hair uncombed. On the surface, he'd never seen her look more like a street kid, but one look at her strong stance, at her certain face, at the confidence shining from her eyes, and he knew the waif was gone. A Feral Warrior stood in her place.

He kissed her. "You are magnificent," he murmured against her lips as his hand slid down her back, over her bu**ocks, to the hem of the T-shirt. Having put it on her, he knew precisely what she wore underneath. Absolutely nothing. If his life was almost over, there was only one thing more he wanted. To make love to this woman he loved more than life.

Tears glistened in her eyes as if they'd shared the thought. "Love me," she said softly.

"I do. I will."

He kissed her, savoring the sweet taste of her mouth and the feel of her soft lips against his. His hand slid beneath the hem of the T-shirt, finding the bare silken flesh beneath. Fire pounded through his blood, turning him hard and ready as he caressed her, digging gently into the soft flesh. She moaned and pressed against him, rocking her hips into his, brushing his already-swelling erection. He hissed in a breath, lifting one of her sweet thighs against his hip and settling himself into the vee of her body.

"Tell me I didn't hurt you before. Or that you don't remember."

"You didn't hurt me. I remember it as a whirlwind of wild pleasure. Intense. Incredible. But . . ."

"It'll be gentle this time."

"Yes."

He kissed her slowly, tenderly, taking his time, brushing her lips with his, sliding his tongue between them to stroke the crease. She opened for him, but he took his time coming inside, wanting to savor every moment, every sweet taste of her. He slid his tongue across one soft lip, then the other before melding his mouth with hers and sliding his tongue deep inside. She melted against him, a moan escaping her throat, and his heart and mind overflowed with love.

Pulling back, he stripped off his shirt and enjoyed the sight of her watching him, admiration lighting her eyes.

"You are so beautiful," she murmured. She met his gaze with a wicked, darling grin and reached for him, sliding her fingers over his pecs and up to his shoulders, then down his arms, exploring, a sensual look of pleasure on her face even as that small smile remained. "I can't believe you're mine."