Obsession Untamed (Feral Warriors #2)(67)

“Bleed, Jag!” Wulfe roared.

Jag scowled, pulled out a knife, and cut himself. Blood rolled down his palm.

“Get Delaney. We’ve got to get Tighe locked up.”

Locked up. Her chest squeezed. Lost in the darkness.

Jag bent over her, cutting the last of her bonds.

She tried to focus her eyes on him, but she was fast slipping away. “Not…Feral House. Did something to me. I’m…dangerous. And…get my boots!”

Delaney woke to the sound of the river and voices, and the feel of a cool wind in her face. She lay still, her battered mind trying to identify the voices as friend or foe. All male. No, a female voice.

She opened her eyes, finding a ceiling of stars high above her head, all but blotted out by a bright light just to her side. Kara. Her forehead wrinkled at the sight of the woman sitting with her legs crossed, glowing like a camp lantern.

“Hi there,” Kara said softly, meeting her gaze. “You’re safe, Delaney.”

Delaney tried to shake her head, but nothing happened. “You’re glowing.”

“That’s what I do,” she said with a lilt in her voice. “Remember I told you I was the power plug? I wish I could use some of my power to help you, but they tell me only Ferals can handle it. But I’m keeping the light on and the rock warm for you. Are you still cold?”

“No. Warm.” Surprisingly warm, despite the cool wind. She felt as if someone had wrapped her in blankets and laid her on a heated bed.

“Good.”

“Where am I?” Her gaze moved to an oddly dressed teenager kneeling on her other side, his hand on her forehead, his eyes closed.

“The goddess stone,” Kara told her. “The men called a Feral Circle, a mystic circle, to keep out draden and prying human eyes. The Shaman is trying to figure out what was done to you and whether you’re really a danger.”

“Tighe?”

Kara’s brows knit unhappily. “He’s at Feral House.”

“In the prison?”

“I’m afraid so. He may still snap out of it.” But her tone said she didn’t believe it.

“I need to…see him.”

The young man she assumed was the Shaman lifted his hand from her forehead. As she turned her gaze to him, he looked down at her with ancient eyes in his youthful face.

“Hello, Delaney.”

“Hi.”

He turned to face a distant point beyond Kara’s light.

“He definitely left a mark on her, Lyon,” he said. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Not a dark charm. Nothing that concrete. More like shadows on her soul.”

“Is she a danger to us?”

“I can’t answer that for a certainty, but my instincts tell me those shadows are wounds, not magic. She needs to rest. To heal, both physically and mentally. It’s too bad Tighe’s not available to help the process.”

Tighe. Tears formed in her eyes. But she felt the Shaman’s hand on her forehead again, and slept before they had a chance to fall.

When Delaney woke again, she was in Tighe’s bedroom. The room was dark, but light shone from beneath the closed door, and the rumble of voices carried from far below. It was probably still evening. She stretched, taking quick inventory, deciding nothing hurt, then shuddered as memories rushed into her mind. The clone. Tighe. Kara had said he’d lost it and was in the prison. She envisioned him trapped in a darkness as bleak and terrifying as the one he’d pulled her from.

If there was a way to free him from his own dark hell, she was going to find it.

She pushed off the covers and swung her feet over the side of the bed, noting that the pajamas Kara had loaned her were back on her again. For a brief moment, she considered trying to find something better to wear downstairs than Kara’s p.j.s, and as quickly dismissed the concern. They certainly showed less of her than the ceremonial gown. And if she remembered that nightmare in the kitchen correctly, they’d seen her in less. Far less.

Flicking on the light, she did a quick search of the walls and pulled down a wicked-looking twelve-inch dagger. She was not going unarmed again. Barefoot, she flew from the room and down the richly curved stairs.

Kougar glanced up as he crossed the foyer, his pale gaze expressionless.

“Where’s Tighe?”

He turned away. “He’s lost to you.”

“Like hell he is.” She moved to cut him off. “I want to see him.”

He towered over her, but stopped, eyeing her like he might an interesting little bug.

“Why?”

“I want to see if I can get him out of there.”

“You can’t.” He started around her.

She lifted the blade, threatening him if he took another step. “Sometimes when I touch him, it helps calm him. I might be able to pull him back.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

He lifted his hand and stroked his goatee as he studied her. “You would’ve attacked me.”

Delaney blinked, at first thinking he meant just then, when she’d raised the blade. Then she remembered the mating ceremony, when he’d cut Tighe. When she’d jumped off the pedestal, thinking they were in for a fight.

“His enemies are my enemies. At that moment, I wasn’t sure whether you fell into that category.”