Hunger Untamed (Feral Warriors #5)(64)

"You can't want to stay here."

Xavier shrugged. "It's not like I have a choice."

Natalie's pained gaze swung to Wulfe, but he shook his head. "I'm sorry. He can't leave unless we find a way to take his memories."

"Do you think that will happen?"

He could lie to her. In a few minutes, she wouldn't remember. But he wouldn't do that to Xavier.

"No."

Her eyes began to glisten with unshed tears as she turned back to her brother, framing his face with her hands. "I can't leave you here. I'll never be able to find you again."

"Nat." The kid gripped his sister's hands, pulling them gently between them, but didn't let go. "You'll think I died, like your friends did. I'm sorry. I know that's going to be hard on you. And Mom." His expression crumbled for just a moment. He visibly swallowed. "But right now you know the truth, that I'm going to be okay. This is a good place, and I can do stuff here that I like. You should meet Pink. She's really cool."

"I'll never see you again." Natalie's voice broke.

Wulfe watched her struggle with tears, hating that she was having to experience this.

"What am I going to do without you, Xave?"

Xavier pulled her back into his arms. "Maybe finally stop worrying about me?"

Natalie's arms tightened in a fierce hug. "I love you, Xavier Cash. I will always love you."

"I know. I'll always love you, too."

Natalie pulled back and looked at him, swiping at the tears that were starting to fall. "If only I had some way to remember this, to know that you're okay."

Xavier pulled a pen from his back pocket, took his sister's hand, and drew on her palm, a circle with a small curved line in it. "A smiley face with no eyes. When you see this, you'll know I'm happy." He kissed her cheek. " 'Bye, Nat." Then he turned away, and Natalie let him leave.

Wulfe watched her, his hands clenching with an inappropriate need to offer her a shoulder to cry on. He might have done it anyway but for the uncertainty of her reaction. It was better to remember her as the one who'd smiled at him, who'd touched his scars without revulsion, than the one who'd backed away when he tried to hug her.

Natalie stood still as stone, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She whirled on him suddenly, a desperate fire in her eyes. "Promise me you're not going to hurt him, or kill him, or enslave him. Ever. He's a good guy, Wulfe. A good man."

"As long as he's genuinely content to remain here, he has a home. I promise."

But if he ever tried to escape, or call the cops, he was a dead man. Wulfe had told Xavier that, point-blank, and he felt certain the kid had understood. At the moment, the kid appeared to be viewing all this as a grand adventure.

Wulfe just hoped that didn't change.

He reached for Natalie, brushing a tumbling tear from her cheek with his thumb. As she met his gaze with damp eyes, he stroked the softness of her flesh for one indulgent moment, then looked deeply into her eyes and snatched control of her mind.

"When you wake, you won't remember anything that happened from the moment you drove into Harpers Ferry. You'll walk into town, go into one of the shops, and call your fiance. Then you'll look at your palm, see the symbol drawn there, and know Xavier is okay. That he's happy. But for his own safety, you'll never tell anyone that. Nor will you ever try to find him."

Giving in to an urge he didn't entirely understand, he placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Be happy, Natalie."

Then he knocked her out, swung her into his arms, and headed out of the prison block to take her home.

Chapter Eighteen

Kougar watched Ariana dance with hungry eyes, her beauty making him ache. She was exquisite, her dark hair flying around her shoulders, her brilliant eyes shining. She took his hand and twirled around him, her scent enveloping him in a desire that went far deeper than the flesh. As she met his gaze, she threw back her head, her trill of musical laughter filling his heart.

He held her hand as she danced around him in the circular, roofless room, the walls a living jungle, the music flowing over them from the open balcony overlooking the festivities below. She'd kicked the pillows out of the way and now danced across the sleek golden floor.

With every graceful twirl of her body, the band around his chest tightened, his need to pull her against him and never let her go growing more difficult to resist. Slowly, he was coming to realize that it wouldn't matter how much distance he put between them, he would never be free of her. He would be, as he'd always been, incomplete without her by his side.

With a last twirl, she tugged on his hand and pulled him with her onto the open balcony, to the railing where they could watch the party below. And the Ilinas knew how to celebrate. Ribbons of color danced through the air as crystal lights bobbed and weaved above the maidens' heads in time to the lively music. The women danced, nearly four dozen of them, about half with flesh and-blood-feet on stone, the other half twirling, mistlike, in the air.

To a woman, they were lovely, their hair free, their bodies lithe and graceful, their emotions a tangible force. Joy, excitement, and hope leaped and danced, caressing his senses.

But only the woman at his side moved him, body and soul, making his blood rush with a seductive, carnal need.