Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(45)

If Birik and his master, Inir, managed to find a way to free Satanan, the world as they knew it was over.

Only two men sat at the table eating from the platters of meat already laid out. Foxx and Jag. The others would join them soon enough, as soon as the scent reached the upper floors. Then again, both Lyon and Tighe had mates, now. A warm and willing female in one's bed tended to trump food. At least for a while. And, at the moment, they were the only other Ferals at Feral House.

As he led Skye toward the mammoth table set before the windows, both men looked up. Jag's eyes, as always, were sharp with antagonism. But so were Foxx's. And Paenther wasn't sure why. Until Foxx turned his gaze on Skye, and it trebled.

Out of respect, both stood and greeted him, but it was clear neither was pleased by his bringing Skye with him. And what did they expect him to do? Tie her up and take her food to her?

If she'd been any other Mage witch, that was exactly what he would have done. But she wasn't any other. She was Skye.

He led her to the far end of the table and pulled out a chair for her, putting several chairs between her and the other two Ferals. As she sat, Pink pushed through the swinging kitchen door carrying another platter between her feathered hands. Pink was the size of a person, but her legs were those of a flamingo and her hands and face, though human-looking, were covered in pink feathers instead of skin.

The servant nodded to Paenther with friendly deference as she sat the platter on the table, but when her gaze landed on Skye, her bird eyes went cold. Without giving him a chance to offer an introduction, the bird-woman turned and headed back to the kitchen.

Paenther stared at Pink's stiff, retreating back. Not one member of this household was willing to give Skye a chance. Was it simply because their enmity and prejudices toward the Mage ran so deep?

Please, Goddess, don't let it be because they see the truth I'm blinded to.

He looked down at Skye. She met his gaze with a wry, unhappy twist of her lips. No, he wasn't blinded. They were the ones who couldn't see. His heart had never lied to him. And in Skye, his heart recognized a kindred spirit. A fighter who'd been forced to bend but had never broken. A captive willing to risk terrible punishment to keep others from suffering the terrifying, agonizing deaths they'd witnessed at the hands of the Daemons.

As Pink returned with a pair of pitchers of water and juice, he grabbed two empty plates from a stack in the middle of the table and started piling the fragrant meat on the first. His gaze swung to Skye. "Do you like pork?"

"I..." She jerked her head in a small, agitated movement. "No."

Paenther finished loading up his own plate, set it down in front of him, then sat at the end of the table beside her.

"Is there anything here you'll eat?"

She looked at him with misery in her eyes. "I don't eat animals."

Understanding flowed over him. Of course not. She was drawn to them and them to her.

"Are you connected to them even in death?"

"I don't know. It's probably just my imagination, but I can't bring myself to eat them."

As Pink set the pitchers on the table and started to turn away, Paenther stopped her. "Skye's a vegetarian, Pink. Do we have anything that's not meat?"

"I just put cinnamon rolls in the oven for Delaney and Kara," the half-flamingo, half-human servant said stiffly.

He turned to Skye with question, but the glimmer of excitement in her eyes and the fleeting smile on her lips told him all he needed to know.

"Thanks, Pink," he said without turning, unable to draw his gaze from the beauty at his side.

"You like cinnamon rolls," he murmured, his own lips turning up.

Her swift nod and widening eyes pleased him. "I haven't had one since I was a child."

He cut a bite of meat. "Forgive me for eating in front of you, but..."

She shook her head. "Eat."

As he dug into his meal, he watched her. "What do you eat in the caverns?"

Her hands gripped the empty plate in front of her, her fingers tracing the edges. "In the summer, I eat berries from the bushes in the woods, and mushrooms when I find them. Sometimes the cook has bushels of apples or nuts brought in, and I'll eat those. Once a month, he bakes bread. Otherwise, all there is to eat is meat."

"I didn't realize any Mage were exclusively meat eaters. The ones I've known were not."

She shrugged. "The meat was already there."

With a stab of empathy, he understood. "They cook your animals. The ones killed during your sacrifices."

Her mouth compressed. "Yes."

He remembered the way she'd stroked the creatures with loving gentleness, and the way they'd clung to her. No wonder she couldn't bring herself to eat them.

No wonder she was so damned thin.

"The current Ferals are all predators," he told her. "Before Kara's arrival, Pink fixed almost exclusively meat, but Kara prefers a variety. And Pink has a soft spot for Kara. Cinnamon rolls are starting to make a regular appearance."

"What is she?" Skye asked quietly. "Pink. She looks like an animal, yet she's not one."

He looked at her curiously. "You don't feel an animal inside her like the other Ferals?"

Skye shook her head slowly. "No."

He was sorry to hear that. "We've always believed her animal had been destroyed but never had any way to know for sure. I'm sorry we were right."