Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(50)

The plate of cinnamon rolls slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor. Voices whispered inside his head on a thick, cold mist as his skin crawled with recognition.

Enthrallment.

The mist rushed in, and he knew no more.

Skye rested her head back against the wall, trying to make sense of what had happened upstairs. A dull queasiness played in her stomach, a fear that if she didn't figure out a way to stop whatever it was and convince the Ferals she could be of help to them, she was in serious danger.

Paenther would protect her as long as he could. But if his chief decided she was dangerous, there would be nothing he could do.

It was as if the animals inside the Ferals were both drawn to her and repelled by her. She'd thought it was simply a matter of confusion on the animals' part by their warriors' animosity toward her.

Unfortunately, that didn't explain what had happened to Jag. She'd felt his animal's pain, in a different way than she'd felt it before. What was worse, Foxx's, Lyon's, and Tighe's animals had all been exhibiting echoes of that same pain that morning. As if something were wrong with them. Her gift should never cause a creature pain. Even if she wanted to hurt them, she couldn't. Not when the Shaman had bound her magic.

She stilled. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe the Shaman had changed her gift in some fundamental way. As soon as Paenther returned, she'd ask him.

The sound of footsteps carried to her. Paenther's footsteps. Her skin heated. Her heart fluttered with anticipation, her chest expanding and filling until the warmth was nearly too much to contain. How had Paenther become her entire world in such a short time?

But as he turned the corner, she sensed something was wrong. His walk was tense. His expression hard. And he'd come without the food he'd promised her.

"What's the matter?" she asked as he unlocked her cell, his gaze fixed on the task.

"We have to go."

"Why?" She wiped suddenly damp palms on the pants Paenther had loaned her. Had Lyon already ordered her to be destroyed?

Swinging the door open, glancing back over his shoulder, he reached his hand out to her. She placed her hand in his and followed him through the passage and into the gym.

"Can you tell me what happened, Paenther?" Her heart was beginning to race with fear.

He didn't reply. When they reached the hallway that led to the stairs, he instead led her to a pair of double doors. Releasing her hand for just a moment, he unlocked the doors and swung one open only enough for the two of them to slip through, then he closed it behind him.

He grabbed her hand and led her up the wide set of steep stairs. Daylight filtered in from above, lighting their way and glinting off spiderwebs and dust motes.

"Where do these go?" she asked softly. But again, he didn't answer. "Paenther?"

Her heart lurched. Alarms began to ring in her head. "Paenther, look at me." She tried to jerk her hand from his grasp and couldn't. "Look at me!"

Finally, he turned his head, and met her gaze with the eyes of a stranger. Eyes dulled by magic.

He was enthralled.

Birik had come for them.

Chapter Fifteen

Skye tried to yell for Lyon, but Paenther slammed his hand over her mouth before she made a sound. She struggled against him, but he dragged her up the stairs effortlessly, unlocked the door at the top, and pulled her into the harsh sunlight.

Birik couldn't be calling Paenther all the way from the mountains. He must have come for Paenther himself or sent one of his minions. Now they waited for them, calling to Paenther through his shackles.

No, she would not go back there! Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that Daemon again, ripping those poor people to shreds. Worse, much worse, was the thought of Paenther chained again, back under Birik's control.

Her mind screamed. Birds took flight, rattling the trees around them. Dogs howled in the distance, feeling her distress. Her magic being bound seemed to have no effect on her ability to call the animals.

Paenther dragged her through the tree-filled backyard, one hand over her mouth, one hand firm on her arm. She struggled, desperate to get away, but he only lifted her off the ground and carried her as if she weighed nothing.

She had to do something! She couldn't let this happen.

But the only ones who'd ever come to her call were animals. And not even a large dog was likely to be able to stop this man.

She stilled. But there were other animals in these woods. Animals that were also men.

Praying the Ferals' animals would hear her distress, she opened her mind and heart and sent her plea out into the wind.

Within moments, animals began to appear. Squirrels scampered through the underbrush, a groundhog waddled out from behind a nearby bush, and birds of every kind and color appeared, landing in nearby trees.

Dozens of creatures came to her call.

But the animals she needed to hear her, the only ones who could stop Paenther and keep them from becoming prisoners all over again, weren't among them.

Lyon shook hands with each of the Guard and finally their lead, Olivia. "Where are you staying?"

"At the Bethesda Therian enclave," she replied with that hint of a Scottish brogue.

Lyon nodded. "I'll be in touch." Just as soon as he figured out what to do with Paenther's damned witch. He reached for the door and stopped mid-move as his beast leaped within him, lifting his head on a roar of distress. A second later, a strange blast of energy hit him. The power rushed over him, power he hadn't called, and he felt himself shifting. He struggled against the magic and failed.