Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(69)

He clasped Lyon's shoulder in return, then turned and hurried out of the room.

Sometimes all you can do is trust your heart.

And his heart belonged to Skye.

Skye stood staring into the woods, unseeing, as the animals gathered around her, seeking a comfort she didn't have to give. Tears continued to skate down her cold cheeks, but she couldn't stop them any more than she could stop the cracks from forming over and over in her heart.

She felt rather than heard Paenther approach. He walked too silently for her ever truly to hear him.

"Skye." He said her name softly before sliding his hands on her shoulders from behind. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." The thing was, she couldn't blame him for being cautious when so much was at stake. It was her own fault, and the fault of her foolish heart, for reading too much into his declaration of love.

He turned her to face him, but she wouldn't meet his gaze, not when the tears refused to stop. But he pulled her into his arms anyway, one hand at her back, the other sliding into her hair as he lifted her face to his. With eyes swimming in regret, he brushed away her tears.

"Don't cry, Beauty." His face dipped, and he kissed her without hesitation, without doubt, with a fierce tenderness that claimed her, body and soul. A kiss of possession. Of declaration. Of promise.

Finally, he pulled back. Shaken, confused, she kept her eyes closed and clung to his waist, not even remembering reaching for him.

"Look at me, Skye." As she looked up, his hands rose to frame her face. "I trust you, little witch. With my life."

She sighed. "Paenther...it's okay. I understand. You have a lot of reasons not to trust a Mage."

"I do. You're right." He stroked her jaw. "But you've never given me any reason not to trust you."

Her mouth pursed ruefully. "Other than the fact that I enthralled you and captured you?"

To her amazement, a small smile flickered across his face. "Other than that. I love you. I trust you because I know you. I've seen the goodness in you from the beginning even if I had a hard time believing such beauty of spirit could possibly have been born a Mage. I trust you with my life, Skye. I only hesitated because..." He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. "Trust comes hard for me. And these men are my family. My brothers. Until you, they were the whole of my life."

She clung to the love in his voice and in his words. "I'd never do anything to hurt them. Or you."

He pulled back to look down at her. "I know that."

With her fingertips, she traced his mouth. "You've become my life, Paenther. I can't let you suffer if I can help you. I can't let you die if I can do something to save you." I can't live without you. But the last she kept to herself. Because, despite his declarations of love, she realized now that not once had he talked about the future, most importantly, a future that included her.

He stroked her damp cheek. "Lyon has called the Shaman to unbind your magic. We'll do the power raising as soon as you're ready."

"Lyon agrees?"

"He does."

"That's good." But a host of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She'd wanted them to give her a chance, but now that she was getting it, she was suddenly overcome with doubts of her own. What if she couldn't pull it off?

Paenther looked at her quizzically. "What's the matter?"

"What if I forget the words?"

He kissed her forehead. "I remember them. We're going to make this work. Together."

A head pushed between them, that of a big black Lab looking for attention.

"Jealous thing," Skye scolded fondly, laughter in her voice.

Ignoring the dog, Paenther kissed her one more time, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, as she savored the heady taste of him. But the dog refused to be ignored, and she started to laugh.

With a chuckle, Paenther released her and stepped back. "Go ahead. They deserve a little of your time, and the Shaman won't be here for at least an hour. Not with the sudden turn of bad weather."

She saw the glimmer of humor in his eyes and laughed. How was it possible to love another person so much that she honestly wondered if her heart would simply stop if his did? As she turned to her animals, her joy flickered and died beneath the weight of her fears.

What if she couldn't help Paenther at all?

Chapter Twenty-one

Two hours later, the Ferals and their mates trudged through the snow-blanketed woods. As they climbed down to a broad, flat stone, the goddess stone, Skye stared down at the glory of the raging Potomac River far below.

Though the snow had ended a while ago, the wind still whipped, cold and biting.

Paenther pulled her against him. "We'll call a Feral Circle to enclose the magic and keep out prying eyes."

Lyon joined them. "Kara's going to pull the radiance to melt the snow so Skye's feet don't freeze." His hand went to Paenther's shoulder. "Wish you could join us, B.P. Maybe if this works..."

Skye shivered, and Paenther pulled the leather coat he'd loaned her tighter around her. All she wore beneath was a thin, flimsy sleeveless silk gown. A ritual gown, Kara had called it. Kara and Delaney had taken her aside to dress her, choosing a beautiful gown of a vibrant blue they said brought out the color in her eyes.