Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(56)

"That's an order, B.P." Lyon's gaze shot daggers at Skye. "Get her out of here and get yourself healed."

Paenther pushed Skye behind him as his gaze went from his chief to the spotted jaguar hissing at Skye, his ears flat to his head.

"We're going."

A short while later, they were on the road. Skye ran nervous fingers over the jeans now covering her legs, a fabric she hadn't worn since she was a child. Before they left Feral House, Delaney had insisted on finding her some clothes. The jeans were a little big for her, but a belt and soft sweater hid that fact. Her feet, it turned out, were the same size as Kara's, and the woman had loaned her a pair of running shoes. She wasn't used to wearing shoes and socks, but these were surprisingly comfortable.

She plucked at the jeans, her pulse far from calm. What if this whole trip was for nothing? What if Ezekiel wouldn't see her?

Paenther's hand reached over and covered hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "He'll see you. Maybe he'll even help us."

She turned, studying his strong profile. "Are you reading my mind now?"

Something resembling a smile softened his face for one brief moment. "You haven't stopped playing with your jeans since you got in the car."

"What if Inir's already gotten to him? What if he's lost his soul?"

"He hasn't. The Shaman may not call this Mage a friend, but he wouldn't send us down there if he weren't sure of him." He squeezed her hand again.

Skye covered his hand with her other. "I'm sorry I hurt you when I said the spell to release your shackles."

"It wasn't your fault. I'm sure the blame goes back to Ancreta and what she did to me all those years ago."

"What's going to happen if you completely lose your connection with the animal spirit, Paenther?" The thought of it scared her.

"I don't know. Maybe he'll be free to mark someone else."

"Could he mark you again?"

"I don't think so."

"So you'll go back to being Therian?" She rubbed her hand over the back of his, sliding her fingers between his.

She waited for him to answer. And waited.

Finally, she looked at him, at the hard line of his jaw. "Paenther?"

"Being marked by an animal spirit changes you." His voice was clipped. Controlled. Too controlled. "Being unmarked doesn't change you back." He turned his hand and grasped hers, palm to palm, intertwining their fingers. But he didn't say anything more.

He didn't have to. She understood. If he lost the connection with his animal, he was going to die.

Skye thrashed against her bindings, turning her face against the crushing blows of the sharp rocks being flung at her magically by a dozen Mage. The rocks pummeled her, cutting her cheek, cracking her ribs, tearing gashes into the flesh of her naked body until she was struggling to breathe against the brutal pain of the assault.

Even as the stones continued to fly at her, Birik's face swam in front of her eyes, his own sharp with fury.

"Return to me, Skye, or you'll suffer worse. Every time you sleep, you'll live the tortures I have planned for you, until you're afraid to close your eyes. Until you cease being able to tell the real world from the nightmares. Until your mind collapses beneath the weight of the terror.

"Return to me, now. You'll never escape me, foolish girl. Never!"

"Skye."

She came awake with a start, jerking away from the car window, her body aching, her breaths pained and short, hurting as if she'd suffered the attack for real.

Paenther's warm hand curved over her shoulder. "Your heart's thundering. Was that a nightmare, or something more?"

"More, I think. It was Birik threatening me if I didn't come back."

"He can reach you over this distance?"

"I don't know." She pressed her shaking hand to her damp forehead, trying to clear her mind of the nightmare. "He was wearing a green tunic I haven't seen him in for years. And he was taller. Much taller."

"Or you were smaller. Could he have inserted that nightmare into your cantric when you were a girl?"

"Yes. I think that's what he did."

"Will you tell me about it?"

She glanced at him, at the worried look in his eyes as he met her gaze. "I was being stoned. He said the nightmares will get worse if I don't come back, until I can't tell dream from reality."

Paenther growled low in his throat. "That Mage is going to die." His fingers caressed her shoulder. "No one's going to hurt you again. I won't allow it."

His touch was firm and warm, but not even Paenther could protect her from the living hell Birik would make her life if she didn't return to him. Yet she couldn't go back there, not when she knew the use he would make of her power.

Like a wraith, she floated between one world and the other, unable to live in either without misery. If she stayed away from Birik, her misery would be of the mind and flesh. If she went back and helped him free more of those Daemons, the anguish would be to her soul.

And neither choice gave her the only thing she wanted in life. The only one.

Paenther.

Chapter Seventeen

Hours later, they reached the small town of Corolla on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The sun was setting, the sky a brilliant pink and orange silhouetting the row of beach houses on their high stilts. The tourists had yet to begin their annual migration to the beaches and the houses stood dark and empty amid the sand and wild grasses of this narrow, windswept barrier island.