Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(54)

"Easy, B.P.," Tighe said.

Skye's small hand stroked his back. "You need to sit down."

His voice cracked with pain. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing." Skye's voice sounded small. Injured. "The shackles are gone."

"Gone?" He reached for his opposite wrist and found...nothing. "I'll be damned."

"Kara's going to give you radiance, B.P." Lyon's voice reached out to him from a small distance. "You have to let go of the witch."

"Not the witch. Skye." He was finally starting to see through the white-hot pain. Lyon was back in his human form, standing in the doorway of the cell, sans clothes. He met his friend's amber gaze. "You hurt her, Roar, and I'll kill you."

"We won't hurt her."

Skye slipped out of his hold as Kara stepped into his slowly widening field of sight. Kara came to him, her blond hair in its usual ponytail, her eyes worried as she curled her slender fingers around his wrist.

"Ready, Paenther?" she asked softly.

"Do it."

Kara closed her eyes. Within seconds, her hand began to warm on his wrist. With a flash, her skin erupted in an iridescent radiant glow. But instead of the warm surge of energy he usually felt, a bolt of power shot into his wrist, ramming through his body, knocking him back against the stone wall.

The last words he heard as he lost consciousness were Kara's.

"Lyon, look at his eye! His Feral mark is fading."

Chapter Sixteen

Paenther hit the wall. He felt Tighe grab him as the radiance burst within him, sending warm energy shooting through his body and into his limbs, raking over the pain that lived within his flesh. With a surge of renewed strength he pushed himself upright again, swallowing a grimace.

"You okay?" Tighe asked worriedly.

He shook his head fast and hard, clearing it. "That was a mean kick of power."

His gaze sought and found Skye watching him with wide, worried eyes from the other side of the cell. He held out his hand to her, and she flew into his arms. Pulling her tight helped ease the turmoil inside him, if only a little. It was enough.

He met Lyon's gaze. "The shackles are off. I'm ready to find that cavern."

Skye made a sound of dismay.

Lyon acted as if he hadn't heard him. "Shift."

Paenther growled. "You think I can't shift?"

"Your feral mark is fading, B.P. I don't know what in the hell that means, but unless you can shift, you can't go near the Mage."

"Fine." He thought about stripping so he didn't ruin his clothes, but a quick glance down told him that ship had already sailed. Even his leather pants were half-shredded from the teeth and claws of his brothers. "I'm not shifting in this cell."

With a gentle squeeze, he released Skye. Lyon stepped back as he brushed by him to stand on the stone floor in the middle of the cell block. Stealing himself for the rush of pain that always accompanied his shift, he pulled on the power of his animal, the power that had been as natural a part of him as breathing for nearly three hundred years. And nothing happened.

Dammit.

"B.P.?"

Paenther shot Lyon a glare. "Give me a minute." He had to be able to shift! Raking his hair back with both hands, he pulled, visualizing his beast, straining to reach that rush of pain and strength until his neck and back were damp with sweat.

"Paenther?" Skye's soft voice had him looking at her through the bars of the cell. "Let me touch you."

"Why?" Lyon demanded.

Skye met his chief's hard gaze and answered without hesitation. "His animal responds to me. I believe Paenther and his animal spirit have always had a disconnect, but the shackles have wrenched them apart to the point they can barely function as one anymore. I might be able to bridge that gap."

Lyon's gaze swung to the Shaman. "Is that possible?"

The Shaman nodded. "I've always sensed a trauma within Paenther's Feral magic, and there's no denying it's gotten worse as evidenced by his fading Feral marks. Whether or not the witch can help him, I don't know."

Paenther held his hand out to her. "Then we'll find out."

The others stood back to let Skye go to him. She met his gaze, uncertainty in her blue-and-copper eyes.

"Try, Beauty."

She dipped her head and took his hand. "I need to touch you. Let me touch your chest."

Paenther ripped the shredded silk shirt off with a single tug, popping the last remaining buttons. Skye lifted her hands and pressed her warm palms against his chest. Almost at once, he felt a calming.

He covered her hands with his. "If this works...when you see the lights, jump back, or you'll wind up under me."

Her mouth kicked up at one corner, a small, intriguing gleam entering her eyes. "I rather like being under you," she said softly.

Unfortunately, Feral hearing was all too sharp. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a knowing smirk flicker across Tighe's face.

Paenther held Skye's gaze. "All right, let's give this a try." Once more he pulled on the power of his beast, but like before, nothing happened. The fury he kept carefully contained rose, boiling beneath his skin until he feared he would lose control. He was about to push Skye to safety when he felt it. The power rising from deep inside him. A trickle at first, then stronger, building until the shift came on him in a familiar rush of pain and savage, primal pleasure.