Hunger Untamed (Feral Warriors #5)(73)

"I am."

Lyon's gaze snapped to Kougar. "Anything else?"

"No."

"Then let's do it! It's high time we got Tighe and Hawke home."

Chapter Twenty-one

The wind whipped at Ariana's thin dress, plastering it against the side of her body, tossing her hair into her eyes as she stared up at the golden temple from the path below. The sun escaped the clouds for one brief moment, setting the ivory temple afire before the shadows doused the brilliance once more.

Ariana felt light, literally, as if with the dissemination of the poison she'd lost forty pounds. And perhaps she had. But her heart felt heavy with grief and the leaden fear that her maidens were going to die.

And Kougar . . . No. She couldn't fear for him, too, or she wouldn't be able to function. The Ferals would win this battle. She had to believe that.

If only she'd called on their aid from the start, the moment her maidens started dying.

Hookeye had always been stronger than she'd realized. At last she knew, from the vantage point of distance and hindsight, that the Ilinas had never had a chance of defeating him on their own. She should have turned to Kougar in those days, not away.

If only.

Instead, she'd put them both through hell. And her maidens were all going to die anyway.

Kougar stood beside her, his shoulder inches from her own. She'd asked him not to touch her, and he'd seemed to understand that if he cradled her now, as she really wanted him to, if he offered too much sympathy, she might crumble, the wild grief inside her taking her down. She had to stay strong. Shoulder to shoulder, he held her up, lending her the strength to fight the battle to come.

Melisande appeared with the last of the Ferals. Wulfe, she thought this one was called. The shifter stood for a full ten seconds before dropping to one knee to retch on the rocks beside the others.

As the Ferals shook off the effects of the travel, Ariana started up the path, needing a moment alone. She reached the spot where she could see the temple yard just as the sun came out again. Flashes of steel glittered across the grounds, the swords held by her maidens, her friends. Dozens of them stood like automatons scattered in rough lines, their eyes blank with enthrallment.

Brielle stood with her dark hair loose and flying around her shoulders in the cold wind. Ariana's stomach felt as if it were being hollowed out with a blade. What kind of monster would force her to cut down her own people to reach him? Then again, as Melisande said, they were already dead. The poison she'd protected them from for so long would steal their lives as surely as Hookeye had stolen their wills.

Her eyes burned, tears escaping to be whisked from her cheeks by the cold wind. Grief pummeled her, leaving raw bruises on her heart that she knew would never heal.

How would she survive such a loss a second time? There would be no one left but Melisande. Two to renew a race. They could do it, of course. She alone could call the magic of rebirth and bring forth new Ilinas upon the Altar of Life, now that she could turn to mist again. She and Melisande would teach them what they needed to know.

But even as her mind set forth what she must do, her heart shattered at the need to do it. How could she go on without Brielle and Getrill and the others? She would, because she'd have no choice.

Goddess, it will destroy me.

The wind raked at her hair and her thin gown, the cold of the air no match for the bitter cold she felt within.

She felt Kougar move beside her, felt his hand slide under her hair to curve around the back of her neck. Warmth. Strength. He gave her both and more, grounding her, pulling her back to the here and now.

Taking a shuddering breath, she felt the cold abyss move away. For the moment.

She could not lose him, too. On the most fundamental level, she needed him. Her life would never be right without him. She knew that now.

But could he ever forgive her for betraying him all those years ago? Could he ever learn to trust her as he trusted his Feral brothers? Could he ever come to love her again as she loved him?

His warm fingers kneaded the tension in her neck. "We'll guard you and get you in there," he said quietly.

"No." She fingered the sword gripped tight in her hand, the sword she'd demanded from him at Feral House. Glancing over her shoulder, she briefly met his gaze. "I'll fight my way in there just as you will."

As she turned back to face the yard, his hand fell away, to be replaced a moment later by a light pressure on the top of her head, the brush of his chin. "My warrior queen," he murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear.

His words strengthened her, his simple, soft use of the word my lifting her heart in hope.

"That's the last f**king time I'm traveling by Ilina," Jag muttered, as the Ferals joined them.

"Any sign of Hookeye?" Kougar asked her.

"No." She'd been so focused on her own maidens, she hadn't really looked; but as her gaze moved back to the temple, she saw only a few scattered Mage and none who looked like the one she wanted dead. He was probably tucked safely in his laboratory, in the room where he'd been in his dream, working at his table on whatever magic would best destroy the Ferals.

She glanced at Kougar and found him watching her, pain in his eyes mixed with a deep, caring warmth.

"You're hurting," she murmured.

His knuckles brushed her cheek. "For you."

The constricting band tightened around her chest, pricking her eyes with tears, forcing her to turn away before she gave in to the terrible need to pour out her grief within the circle of his strong arms.