Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(5)

Paenther refused to believe it. He would save Vhyper just as Vhyper had saved him all those years ago. But he had to find him first. Getting trapped and chained in a witch's lair sure as hell wasn't the way to go about it.

His muscles corded as he fought the chains with every ounce of strength he possessed until his skin was damp with sweat and his wrists slick with blood. Yet he accomplished nothing. He was pinned fast, his arms trapped above his head, his legs spread and tethered.

Ah, goddess. If only you'd stopped me. No fate could be worse. He'd have sold his soul to have escaped this.

Heaven help me. His soul was probably the very thing the witch wanted. To finish what Ancreta had started all those years ago - tearing him loose from his animal once and for all.

"Go! Flee!" Skye clapped her hands at the small herd of deer gathering around her. Pouring her will into the air, she set them to flight with a swish of their white tails. "I'm death," she cried, as they scattered into the surrounding woods. "I'm nothing but death to you!"

But even as the beautiful creatures disappeared, Skye knew they'd return. They always returned, drawn to her as deeply as she was to them. Tears burned her eyes. Not for the first time, she bitterly wished she'd never been born with this affinity for the Earth's creatures. The gift that should have been a source of joy had turned her life into a living nightmare.

Skye collapsed back against the nearest tree trunk, her heart thudding with agitation, her stomach sick from the weight of hatred.

"Dear Mother," she prayed. "Take Birik and burn him in Hell!"

But the Mother never heard her. How many years had she been trapped in this darkness, chained to this mountain as surely as the warrior she'd captured was chained to the rock slab in her room, even if her chains were less visible?

Two days ago she'd been sent to capture him - a shape-shifter. One of the elite Feral Warriors. One of the most rare creatures in the world and, without a doubt, the most beautiful. He'd shown her such extraordinary gentleness, such fierce passion, and she'd repaid him with the ultimate betrayal.

But she'd had no choice. If only she could end this nightmare. If only she could escape Birik and this mountain!

The nudge at her hip had her sinking to her knees to embrace the doe who'd come right back to her. "Ever loyal, aren't you, Faithful?" The white-tailed deer with the notch out of her ear was her favorite. Her only true friend. One she would never take into the caverns. Ever.

The doe nuzzled her cheek, staring at her with those huge brown eyes, giving her the only loyalty she'd known in too many years. Unhappiness burned the backs of her eyes. Fear twisted inside her. Though Birik had assured her he had no intention of killing the Feral, she was terrified he'd lied.

She curved both arms around Faithful, burying her face in her soft brown neck, wishing for a miracle that would save them all. But she'd long ago ceased believing in miracles.

Slowly, the other deer returned to gather around her, as did several dozen other forest creatures. Drawn to her, every one, much to her joy...and sorrow.

With a last caress, she said good-bye to Faithful, sending her away as she chose another doe to accompany her back to the caverns, along with several smaller animals.

As much as she dreaded facing the Feral, dreading the anger she knew she'd see in those dark eyes that had looked at her with such gentleness, she had to get back to him.

And pray she could keep him alive.

Paenther caught the witch's scent, that delicate, damning smell of violets, moments before she stepped into the doorway, the ethereal beauty who'd shown him heaven between her thighs, then captured him in her net of bewitchment. At the sight of her, lust slammed into him all over again.

Even as hatred seared its way through his blood, his gaze drank in the vision. She was slender, with few curves revealing themselves beneath the soft, shapeless blue dress. But her short hair accentuated a long, graceful neck and features that were too fine, too delicate for a coldhearted witch.

Mage or not, she stole his breath.

She watched him, her eyes wary, as she gently stroked the rabbit in her arms. At her side, a doe pressed her head against the witch's hip while several excited squirrels chased one another around her ankles.

He'd thought she was human.

Closing his eyes against the sight of her, he prayed that grave error didn't turn out to be the last mistake he ever made.

At the soft sound of her movement, he opened his eyes and watched her cross the room, leading her small menagerie to a cage in the corner. The rabbit and squirrels ran inside, and she fastened the door, then tied the docile doe loosely with a rope attached to the wall. Empathy for the creatures jolted him. Creatures she'd captured as surely as she'd captured him.

The animals seemed to like her. Pets, no doubt. A growl rumbled low in his throat. He would never be her pet.

The hatred inside him was so raw, so pure, if his gaze could kill, she'd be dead. Goddess, he couldn't remember the last time he'd let his c**k do his thinking for him. No woman had pierced his icy control in centuries. The fact that this one had should have rung a thousand warning bells that she wasn't what she seemed.

"Witch," he snarled. "What do you want from me?"

She rose from her animals with the grace of a dancer and turned to him. There was a fragility about her that tried to tug at his protective instincts. But like everything about her that pulled at him, he knew it was a lie. If he ever managed to free himself from these shackles, he'd carve the heart out of her chest just as he had Ancreta's.