Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(92)

Her small cries turned frantic; and then she was coming, her expression pure bliss, her cries turning to gasps and moans, her gaze fixed on his, love blazing in her eyes.

And he came and came and came, pouring his seed and his heart and his soul into her.

His body thoroughly emptied, his heart full to overflowing, he sank down onto her, bracing the bulk of his weight on his forearms even as he dropped his for head lightly against hers, his eyes closed at last. When he could move, he lifted up to look down at her and met her exhausted smile.

"That was perfect," she murmured.

"I agree." He stroked her hair back from her face. "You're perfect." Taking her with him, he rolled onto his back, cradling her against his chest, his c**k still buried deep inside her. "I never want to leave you."

Goddess. He cupped her precious head in his hand and kissed her hair. I will do anything . . . anything . . . if only you can help me repair this break with my hawk. And stay with this woman who has my heart.

But the goddess couldn't help him. This he had to do himself.

And he didn't know the way.

Faith lay with her cheek against Hawke's damp chest, listening to his heart hammering beneath her ear as quickly as her own beat in her chest. Being with him, making love with him, was every bit as thrilling as her first flight. Breathtaking, mind-shattering. Perfect.

She kissed his chest, feeling her eyes burn with unshed tears as the awful fear that she was going to lose him pressed down on her.

He kissed her one more time. "Get up, Smiley. Let's go home."

She lifted off him, letting him slide out of her, then stood while he rose and handed her the T-shirt. They dressed, then Hawke pulled out his cell phone and started pressing buttons.

"It's me. We'll meet you by the gas station." When she lifted a brow, he mouthed, "GPS." A moment later, he frowned. "What else is new?"

Shoving his phone in his pocket, he met her gaze with a sigh. "According to Lyon, there's trouble. Again."

Chapter Nineteen

"Hawke, Falkyn," Wulfe said, as Hawke handed Faith into the cab of the wolf shifter's pickup. "I'm glad to see that you both . . . made it back into your skins. I assume Falkyn's cured?"

Hawke nodded. "Right as rain. What's the trouble?"

"Lyon hasn't said. We're meeting in the war room as soon as we get back."

When they were on the road, Faith leaned forward. "Am I really going to be called Falkyn all the time, now?"

Hawke glanced back at her. "I'll call you whatever you'd like in private. You'll always be Faith to me." A smile gentled his eyes. "Or Smiley. But yes, your Feral name is Falkyn, now."

She didn't want to offend, but . . . "Why?"

"Tradition," Wulfe said.

Hawke nodded. "I was just talking to Kougar about the names a few days ago. He says it goes back to the time of the Sacrifice, when most Therians lost the power of their animals and the ability to shift. Realizing that only one of each animal would be able to shift at a time, many tried to kill the shifters, hoping to take that power for themselves. Those first Ferals banded together for their own safety. But they were each from a different clan. They didn't know one another, but battle positions needed to be assigned by animal. The wolf was the tracker, the birds acted as recon. Rather than try to remember the names of each of his men, the first chief called them by their animals for simplicity's sake, and it stuck. It was easier for all of them to remember and to assimilate one another's strengths. Later, as each new Feral was marked, giving him or her a new name - a warrior name - became a symbolic rebirth. Since some of those early newly marked Ferals had been part of the bands that had tried to hunt down the original Ferals, that rebirth was particularly important. It acted as a forgiveness by the originals for past acts against them.

"For millennia, the names have been chosen by Kougar. He says he sees the name in his mind as the Feral shifts, and he says it, and, if requested, spells it for the new Feral the way he saw it."

She liked the name Falkyn, actually. And the idea of being someone new felt right. Faith, she was beginning to realize, had never really believed in herself. Part of her had always felt that if she'd been a better daughter, her mother might have loved her, and her enclave wouldn't have left without her. But Hawke had changed all that. As had the falcon spirit when she'd informed Faith her being marked had been no accident. Falkyn was a Feral Warrior. A woman who believed herself worthy, as Faith never had.

But it was Faith with whom Hawke had fallen in love. Faith who'd fallen in love with him.

"Are you ready to be Falkyn?" Hawke asked her softly.

"Yes. Faith was my past. Falkyn is my future."

He smiled. "Faith is your heart, Smiley. Your sweetness to Falkyn's strength. Don't lose her. As you told me that I must find a way to integrate the two halves of myself, you must do the same. To me, in private, you'll always be Faith." His smile died, his eyes tightening.

Always might be a very short time.

Kougar and Jag were crossing the foyer when Wulfe, Hawke, and Faith walked through the front door a short while later.

"War room," Kougar said. "We have trouble."

Hawke nodded. "So I heard, though I'd love to go one day without hearing those words."