Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(59)

Ezekiel set the pot of water on the stove, then pulled a head of lettuce out of the refrigerator and began making a salad. "So Birik's had you raising dark power for him, Skye?"

"He has."

"Moon rituals with sacrifices?"

"Yes. Every night."

"For how long?"

"Decades."

"Have you ever performed the ritual without the sacrifices? The way it was meant to be done?"

"No. I didn't know there was another way until the Shaman suggested you might know."

Ezekiel nodded. "I do. And you may well be able to heal your Feral friend here."

Skye's gaze flew to his, the relief and excitement in her soft eyes palpable. But he found it hard to believe anything inside him would really change.

"You'll stay here through midnight. After we eat, I'll teach you what I know, though I'm no enchanter. My Barbara was the enchantress, you know."

The ache of love and loss in the Mage's voice twisted something inside him.

Skye leaned forward. "Do you think this could stop the Ferals from accidentally shifting?"

Ezekiel lifted an interested eyebrow, a chuckle escaping his throat. "Accidentally shifting? This sounds like a story I need to hear."

Paenther stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room watching Skye as Ezekiel taught her the chants and dance to raise the power she was born to raise. They'd been working on it for hours, but he found, surprisingly, he didn't mind. He felt her joy and her mounting excitement as midnight neared and he felt his own mounting with hers.

If this worked, she wouldn't suffer Birik's punishment. Instead, she would come into her true purpose for the first time. And possibly help him in the process.

A dozen times he'd prayed to the goddess that this would work, that Skye would be free of Birik's punishment.

"Dancing sky-clad, without clothes, is traditional," the old Mage told her, "though ritual gowns work as well if you have one. Beneath the moon is best, but my Barbara drew just as much joy dancing in tents and caves and..." He cleared his throat. "The bedroom."

Skye met Paenther's gaze, a small, secret smile lifting her lips, filling him with a sharp stab of pleasure.

"Keep practicing that dance, lass, while I get us some water." Ezekiel's manner had thawed and warmed hour by hour until Paenther suspected his hermit lifestyle was not by choice but just an attempt to stay beneath Inir's radar. The man clearly enjoyed having the company.

Or he just enjoyed having Skye around. A low growl escaped his throat as the man drew near.

His jealousy must have shown because Ezekiel stopped and met his gaze, his eyes clear and honest. "I would never hurt her, Feral. She's as pure a nature spirit as I've ever met. An exceedingly rare creature." He shook his head. "Birik pulled dark power through her night after night for all those years, and yet it never tainted her. There's not the faintest shadow on her soul. She's a miracle."

"You can't have her."

To his amazement, the Mage smiled. "Does she know you're in love with her?"

"I'm not in love with her."

"No?" An annoying glint of disbelief entered his eyes. "My mistake, then." With a nod, he moved past him into the kitchen to get the water.

Paenther growled low. He wasn't in love with her. Of course he wasn't. And it wouldn't matter if he were. She was Mage, for goddess sake. He could never take her as his mate. A Mage would never be welcome in Feral House.

So, where would she go when this was over? She'd already said she had no way to find her family.

Dammit, this is where she should go. Here, with Ezekiel. Hidden from the Mage, who would only use her powers against her again.

He should be encouraging the old Mage, not warning him off.

He wasn't in love with her.

But, goddess help him, he'd rather carve out his own heart than see her in the arms of another.

Chapter Eighteen

"It's time." Skye grabbed his hand.

Paenther looked down at her, at the nervous excitement sparkling in her eyes, the sadness all but gone. She'd never looked more beautiful.

Skye looked over her shoulder at Ezekiel. "Are you coming?"

"No, lass, I'll wait here."

Her face fell just a fraction. "I'd like you to come."

He shook his head. "It would bring back memories that are too painful, if you understand my meaning. The last enchantress I watched dance beneath the moon, was my Barbara. Besides, your Feral is a bit on the jealous side. I'll be waiting for you right here."

Skye released Paenther's hand and went to Ezekiel, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you."

Paenther bit down on his jealousy as the Mage smiled.

"You're welcome, Skye."

Eyes dancing with excitement, she turned back to him and grabbed his hand. It was all Paenther could do not to pull her into his arms and claim her right then and there, but he let her tug him toward the back door. He followed her down the steps to the sand, the sea breeze wrapping around him like a cool, damp mist.

She looked up at him, a smile hovering at her mouth. "This is going to work. I can feel it." She pulled off her shoes, then shed the rest of her clothes as the moon broke through the clouds and illuminated the perfection of her skin.