Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(52)

Delaney's voice rang sure and clear. "Jag shifted accidentally at breakfast, but he was able to shift back after a few minutes."

"Has Jag spent more time around the witch than the rest of you?" the Shaman asked.

"Skye spent the night in Paenther's room," Kara said. "And Paenther's room is next door to Jag's."

"This is clearly the witch's doing," the Shaman muttered. "The question is how is she doing it? Jag, let me touch your head."

Slowly the fog of enchantment encasing Paenther's head began to lift, and he became aware of his surroundings. He was standing at the bars of one of the prison cells, his hands tied behind him. Feral animals paced just outside his cell, while Wulfe leaned against the wall, and Delaney stood with the tiger.

The Shaman had his hand on the jaguar. "Interesting. I feel the enchantress's call trapped within strong ropes of magic. Magic that's not hers."

Paenther's gaze caught on Skye leaning against the back wall of the cell opposite him, as if she would get as far away from what was going on as she could.

Skye. "What did you do to me?" He said the words quietly, but her eyes widened and she flew to the bars of her own cage, her gaze reaching for him.

"You're back."

He shook his head, trying to clear it. "What happened?"

What do you remember? Lyon's voice sounded in his mind.

He thought about it for only a moment. "I was getting Skye's cinnamon rolls. I dropped them."

Wulfe grunted. "I wondered why there were sweet rolls on the stairs."

You were enthralled, B.P., Lyon said. The witch claims your shackles are to blame, that Birik called you through them.

"From the mountain?" he asked incredulously.

No, the Shaman thinks he or his men were nearby. Within a mile. Hawke and Kougar have gone to look for them.

"May I touch one of your shackles?" the Shaman asked calmly.

Blinking slowly, Paenther turned around to allow him to grasp the metal encircling his wrist. His teeth ground together as he held control over the old torment of ungodly rage.

The Shaman grunted. "The magic that's binding you in your animal forms is coming from the shackles rather than the witch. I believe it may be acting as a magnifier for the enchantress's natural gift. She calls animals without always trying."

So we can't reclaim our human forms until those shackles are disabled? Jag's voice was ripe with disbelief.

Lyon roared. Find a way to remove them, Shaman.

"Trust me, warrior, I've been trying. I'm getting nowhere. I have a way with magic, but I'm not a Mage."

Paenther pulled his hand from the Shaman's grasp. "Cut these ropes off me and give me the knife. I'll get rid of the shackles."

What good is a knife going to do? Lyon asked.

"I'm going to cut off my feet and hands and pull them off. Someone else will have to do my right hand."

Like hell. There's no telling if that will work.

"There's one possibility," the Shaman said. "Though I think it's a long shot."

Name it.

"Mind-skinning."

Paenther groaned silently. Yeah, that was going to feel good. "If you think it'll work, do it."

"I actually have strong doubts that it will work. The very magic we're trying to break will likely keep me from reaching into your memory. But I've yet to find another option."

What exactly are you skinning his mind for? Lyon demanded.

"The spell that was used to lock the shackles on him in the first place. If I can get that original spell, I might be able to fashion a counterspell."

Lyon growled his displeasure.

The Shaman shrugged. "Do you have a better idea?"

"I do." Skye gripped the steel bars of her own cage. "I once wore those shackles."

All eyes turned toward her as her unspoken offer became clear. Somewhere in her head was the counterspell.

"No," Paenther ground out. "It's too painful."

Skye protested. "It's better than you cutting off your hands and feet."

"They'll grow back."

"I can do this, Paenther."

"It's going to hurt."

The Shaman shook his head. "This may not hurt her at all. Mage minds are built differently. It certainly won't hurt her as it did Kara. Kara's memory had been intentionally blocked. I had to strip away the layers of magic to reach what we needed. I shouldn't have to do that with the witch. I'll simply be accessing a memory no longer within easy reach of her conscious mind."

"See?" Skye cocked her head at him. "Easy."

He didn't like it. What if the Shaman was wrong? He trusted the man implicitly when it came to all things Feral or Therian, but the man hated the Mage. What if he hurt her, intentionally or not?

And yet...he clenched his teeth against the pain as he stared at the lion, tiger, and jaguar pacing in front of his cage. A cage he wasn't likely to get far from after what just happened. There was so much more at stake here.

"You're not doing it unless I'm with her."

Agreed, Lyon said. Wulfe?

Wulfe took a key off the hook and opened Paenther's cage. He pulled a switchblade from his pants pocket, and Paenther turned to allow him access to his ropes. As the ropes fell free, Paenther turned and greeted his friend properly, then pushed past him to go to Skye.