Hunger Untamed (Feral Warriors #5)(22)

Jag and Wulfe shifted into their animals, their teeth bared.

"Cease!" Ariana yelled, on her feet beside Kougar. Her general's tone shot through the room, stilling her maidens' blades as the women lost full substance, but not form, becoming wraiths through which a blade would pass and never find purchase.

The Ferals faced off with the wraiths, the jaguar and wolf snarling, the others' blades ready to attack the moment the women returned to flesh and blood.

Only one battle persisted. Melisande continued to fight Lyon, blade to blade. The hatred in the blond mist warrior's eyes told Kougar she was waiting for the right moment to turn her energy blast on the Chief of the Ferals. The savage light in Lyon's eyes said she was about to die for her efforts.

Kougar wouldn't care, except that Melisande's death would devastate Ariana. "Don't kill her, Roar."

Ariana lifted her bound arms straight in front of her as if preparing to fire a pistol. Kougar was about to stop her when he realized her aim wasn't on Lyon but on her own out-of-control lieutenant.

Melisande flew off her feet as if she'd been launched, turning to mist and disappearing an instant before she slammed into the wall. A neat trick.

Silence descended except for the low growling and snarling in the throats of the wolf and jaguar.

"How the hell did they get in here?" Lyon roared.

Kougar eyed the remaining Ilinas, satisfied they were firmly under their queen's control. "Mist warriors come and go as they please."

"Like hell."

Out of nowhere, Melisande reappeared atop the conference table, holding a short sword at either side, her eyes blazing with fury. A fury this time aimed at her queen.

The jaguar crouched as if to spring.

Kougar lifted his hand.

"Hold, Jag," Lyon ordered.

Melisande's form faded to ghostlike, a faint red glow around her edges. Anyone who attempted to attack her like that would think he'd shoved his fist into a light socket. Ilina defensive energy was a bitch, and damned dangerous. A human or Therian could be caught in it and dragged to the Crystal Realm to die. A Feral was too strong to be transported against his will unless the Ilinas ganged up on him. Then it was anyone's game.

Hatred lit Melisande's eyes. "They have to die!"

Ariana pulsed with fury beside him. He could feel it through the mating bond and see it in the angry lines of her body. But when she spoke, her voice was low, woven with steel.

"Stand down, Melisande. They are not the enemy."

"They know about us, now!"

"He knows, Mel. Hookeye knows."

Slowly, Melisande's eyes widened, her fury evaporating beneath real fear as she jumped from the table with a soft, graceful leap to land in front of Ariana.

Kougar grabbed Ariana, gripping her upper arm to keep the other Ilina from stealing her away. Ariana's bound wrists might keep her from transporting herself, but any one of her maidens could take her, bound or not. If they tried while he held on to her, they'd have to take them both.

"How does he know?" The words were little more than a breath, as if driven from Melisande's body by a gut blow.

"It doesn't matter. He knows. I saw his eyes again."

Melisande swayed, her face turning chalk white. "It's over."

Kougar had always found it hard to like the woman, especially knowing how strongly she detested him and his entire race, but he found himself almost feeling sorry for her. Almost.

Ariana shook her head. "Maybe not, Mel. Maybe it's not over yet. The Ferals need me to turn to mist before their friends die in the spirit trap. Maybe they can help us find a way to end this." Ariana glanced at Kougar, meeting his gaze briefly with eyes that held little trust in her own words.

Melisande scoffed. "The spirit trap will destroy their friends within days."

"We've nothing to lose by enlisting their help."

A scowl darkened the mist warrior's face. "Do you really believe that?"

Ariana didn't reply, her lack of response answer enough.

Lyon's voice broke the uncomfortable silence. "Save our friends from the spirit trap, and we'll do whatever it takes to help you find a cure for the poison."

"Stupid shifter," Melisande muttered.

Ariana silenced her with a look and turned to Lyon. "You don't understand, Chief of the Ferals. The only way I can breach the spirit trap is as mist. And if I turn to mist, my maidens will perish."

Kougar felt the hope that had briefly flared in the room die a quick, agonizing death. Tighe's wife, Delaney, sank back in her chair as if she barely possessed the strength to hold herself upright.

Kara's voice broke the thick atmosphere from the doorway. "The Shaman's here, Lyon." Kara, Lyon's mate, strode into the room, the Shaman close behind her.

The ancient Therian stopped just inside the doorway, staring from one mist warrior to the next, his eyes growing wide with excitement.

"Ilinas," he murmured. "Extraordinary."

Though he looked like a fifteen-year-old kid, Kougar knew the Shaman to be well over six thousand years old, probably closer to ten. He'd been considered one of the Old Ones when Kougar was a boy.

Lyon lifted his hand, once more demanding the full attention of those in the room. "Queen Ariana, I'm willing to move heaven and earth to save my two warriors. If that means saving the Ilina race first, then we'd better get started. But I want your warriors out of my house and your promise that they'll never return unannounced or uninvited again. Or next time, the Ferals will rip their hearts out." His hard gaze landed on Melisande. "Is that understood?"