Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(10)

Chapter Three

Skye rose from her private sanctuary in the dagger fields and brushed off her soft knit dress, her pulse finally back to normal - or as close to normal as it was likely to get with the Feral strapped to her bed. She had to get back to him. As much as she dreaded facing those hate-filled black eyes, she needed to make certain all her creatures were okay - the ones who walked on four feet and the very large, very masculine shape-shifter who at present walked on two.

Her stomach clenched. Midnight was not far away.

She retraced her path, dodging puddles and dripping stone, the rock cool beneath her bare feet. In the distance she heard the sounds of voices as the sorcerers prepared the evening rituals and the women of the cavern readied the evening meal. At one time, she would have helped them. But not anymore. She was no longer one of them.

She alone still possessed a soul.

Her stomach growled. It had been two days since she'd last eaten. But as she turned a corner in the rock and spied Birik talking to one of his sentinels, her appetite fled.

Birik was striking in his way, with his fawn-colored skin, long white hair, and cruel green eyes, his body as lean and quick as the thorn whip he'd used on her as a child. Curled around his neck and draped over one shoulder was a large black rat snake. Two gray-and-copper corn snakes slithered around his feet.

She didn't mind the snakes. She was drawn to all creatures. But the man was another matter. If she could do anything to avoid him, she would, but there was no other way back to her room from here. So she averted her gaze as she approached where he stood, seeking to avoid his notice as she always did. But as she tried to pass, stepping around his snakes, he grabbed her arm, his cruel fingers digging into her flesh and pulling her to a stop.

Fear shivered up her spine.

Birik released her only to lift those thin, brutish fingers to her cheek, making her swallow hard. The brush of his fingers was unnaturally gentle, doing nothing to quell the speeding of her pulse. His gentleness always scared her more than his casual cruelty. Skye held perfectly still, knowing better than to let him see her fear.

"You did well, enchantress." His eyes glittered with excitement. "The power was more than I'd hoped for, and you've yet to ride him."

She didn't ask how he knew she hadn't mated with the Feral since bringing him into the cavern. Birik always knew more than he should. "He's not ready to be mounted."

Birik laughed. "He's male, and clearly drawn to you. A few strokes of your hand or tongue, and I guarantee he'll be ready."

Skye swallowed again, nodding. There was no use arguing. Birik neither understood nor cared that the Feral's hatred of his captivity and his captor made him fight the attraction, or that she'd succeed far better if the man, like any creature in captivity, were given a few days to calm to her touch.

The Mage who'd been her master, teacher, and tormentor since she was eight grabbed her jaw, squeezing until she thought he might break the bones in her face, hurting her until the tears she struggled to hold back clouded her vision.

"Don't fail me, Skye. You won't like the consequences."

Apprehension fluttered in her stomach. She knew the consequences all too well. "I won't fail you."

The moment Birik released her, she hurried past him, descending the ancient stairs carved into the rock as she fled to the relative safety of the prison cell that had become her bedroom when she was eight. She'd fought Birik back then. Bitterly. He'd taken everything from her, all comfort, all warmth. And when that still hadn't forced her compliance, he'd hurt her, terribly, over and over and over again until he'd finally broken her will.

Giving up hadn't been easy. It had never been in her nature to acquiesce. But the pain had become more than she could stand. And she'd finally understood there was nothing more that she could do but accept her fate.

As she neared the door to her chamber, she thought of the beautiful man trapped inside. And what she had to do. Her fist pressed against the harsh ache of guilt lodged beneath her breastbone. She wasn't the only one who suffered because of Birik's control over her. If she wanted to keep the Feral alive, she had little choice but to make him suffer more.

She reached her room to find him as she'd left him, chained and furious. A man chained and naked as he was should look helpless. But dark, angry eyes speared her as danger rolled off him, filling the very air of the room. He was the most powerful, most unsettling, male she'd ever encountered. Just being in the same room with him sent her pulse pounding in a way that had only a little to do with fear.

A thrill of energy rolled across her skin, drawing her eyes to the orbs. Birik had drained them while she was gone, yet already they were beginning to glow again. Lust shimmered in the air. Hers, certainly.

Did he feel it, too? There was so much fury in his eyes, it was difficult to say. But then her gaze traveled the length of his hard, muscular body, coming to rest on the arousal standing straight up from his groin, long and thick and rigid.

Oh, he felt it, all right. And wasn't the least bit happy about it.

"Free me," the man growled between clenched teeth as he watched her with a predator's stillness.

Skye went to where the animals awaited, greeting them silently as they greeted her, running her hands down the neck of the doe and bending to let the sweet creature nuzzle her cheek as Faithful always did. Sharp grief pierced her heart at the thought of this deer's future.