Hunger Untamed (Feral Warriors #5)(16)

He'd lost all sense of feeling, of sight, of sound. And the sense that he'd never landed was messing with his mind.

As was the fact that he had no idea where he was. Or how to get out. Inside him, his hawk let out a fierce and angry cry, clearly not liking this any more than he was.

Tighe had been right there beside him as the earth opened. Had he, too, fallen?

Tighe? Tighe! Lyon? Anyone?

They'd only be able to hear his telepathic call if they were in their animals. Would he be able to hear them if they responded? He couldn't even feel his body, though he knew his heart must be pounding, rivulets of sweat running down his neck. Everything primal inside him roared with a need to escape this forbidding darkness.

But he refused to panic. The same thing had happened inside the Mage stronghold in Harpers Ferry, from what he'd heard. Those Ferals who'd been caught inside had been unable to communicate with anyone. But they'd gotten free, and he had to believe he would, too.

Goddess help him if there was a Daemon in here as there had been in that other place.

Goddess help them all if the other Ferals had fallen, too. He'd only seen Tighe go down, but that didn't mean others hadn't been caught.

If only he could feel his body. Feel something.

He got his wish as sudden, searing pain tore through his mind. Not an external attack, but a pain that originated from within and radiated outward like a bomb going off in his brain.

Even as he ground his teeth against the raw agony, he welcomed the proof that he was still alive.

Sounds brushed his mind, the odd sound of a horse's whinny, and the growl of what sounded like a bear. Farther away, he heard other animal sounds. The low roar of a jungle cat and the cry of another bird of prey.

He listened with confusion until realization dawned. Animal spirits. Icy shock splayed across his mind.

The spirit trap. The very trap that had swallowed the seventeen.

His heart stuttered. It wasn't possible. The seventeen had disappeared in Scotland, not West Virginia. But what if that vortex hadn't been the trap itself but a wormhole to the original?

Dread curled deep in his mind.

Ferals didn't come out of spirit traps alive.

The seventeen had walked into one centuries ago and died, their bodies spit out days later. Their animals had never again returned to mark another.

Now he knew why. The animal spirits were still here.

And if he and Tighe didn't find a way to escape, their animals were about to meet that same terrible fate.

Chapter Four

Ariana's pulse pounded as Kougar's powerful body, dressed in all black, crowded hers, not quite touching her, but close enough that his heat called to her on the most primitive level.

She stood with her back pressed against her living-room wall, manacled, her body flushed and ready, desperate for the feel of him inside her even as her careening emotions threatened to sweep her away. The thought of him taking her in anger, in hatred, destroyed something inside her, yet on a purely physical level, her body reacted to his as it always had. Opening, turning moist and hot. She wanted him. Desperately.

That kiss . . .

She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be gripped by the powerful essence, the passion, that was Kougar, caught in the vise of his strength, drowning in his warm, masculine scent, a scent she'd never forgotten.

His kiss had left her shaking, bringing back all those old feelings in a rush of memory. A pleasure that rushed through her body, opening her, strengthening her, making her blood sing and her body long for his. But the storm of feelings he'd dredged up were so much more complicated.

She'd loved this man with an intensity that had left her blind to the danger, to anything but keeping him in her arms. It was that love for him, the insanity of their being together, that had brought such destruction. Such death. Such catastrophic joy.

He watched her, his pale eyes burning with a cold, carnal light as he plotted her seduction. I'm going to f**k this body of yours, he'd said. A chill danced over her skin, a fear that he'd see her bracelet. Because she was all too afraid he knew about red moonstones, that they kept an Ilina from turning to mist. If Kougar saw her cuff, he'd be furious.

Which meant she had to make certain he was too focused on getting inside her to notice anything else. Her true goal was to get him to free her hands. And the moment he did? She'd call on the transport magic woven into that cuff and be gone.

He reached for her, his fingertips trailing down her neck, sliding slowly, sensuously with a gentleness she knew he didn't feel. But the memory of how he'd once touched her in just this way, with aching tenderness, sparked a longing inside her for those lost days. The feel of his warm fingers on her skin sent tremors of desire vibrating down into her body.

He'd always given her such pleasure. She needed that again. The mere thought of his thick erection sliding inside her had her body melting, wanting. Five minutes in his company, and all she could think of was taking him inside her again.

But not like this, not for the reason he intended. Always in the past, as she'd climaxed around his swollen shaft, as he'd pumped his seed inside her, she'd turned to mist. It had been glorious for them both, a true melding of body and spirit.

That's all he wanted from her, now. To force her to turn to mist. He had no feelings for her anymore. Goddess, he thought she was soulless. He hated her.

And he'd hate her even more when he realized she would never save his friends.