Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(29)

Slowly, the color returned to her face, the terror easing away. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

“No! Goddess, no.” He turned away from her, pressing both hands against the wall. His gaze fell to the floor, to the disintegrated drill, and his knees went weak. What if he hadn’t come back to himself in time?

“I don’t know what set me off. It wasn’t you. The situation maybe—that you’re in danger. But not you.”

“You . . . changed.” Her voice wasn’t steady, and it broke him.

Slowly, he straightened and turned back, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “I went feral. All the Ferals do from time to time. In that in-between place, halfway between man and animal, we can fight as equals, no matter which animal we shift into. We enjoy fighting that way—it’s like a Feral form of wrestling, and we usually beat the shit out of one another. But we don’t lose control like I did. I don’t know what happened.”

Natalie watched him, her mouth tight. “I’m very good at reading people, Wulfe. And animals. I knew the first time I met you in your wolf form that you were a friend, and that you’d never intentionally hurt me. I still believe that to be true.”

He nodded. But he’d caught the word intentionally, and that was what worried him, too. Because there was clearly something wrong. And the thought made him ill.

He swiftly finished installing the dead bolt, then turned to where Natalie now sat on the bed, exhaustion written all over her face.

“Do you want to see Xavier tonight or wait until morning?”

Her eyes snapped open, her spine straightening. “Tonight.”

“I’ll bring him up.”

Natalie nodded, and Wulfe left, locking the door behind him. His body felt leaden as he descended the stairs, as he saw again, in his mind’s eye, the terror on Natalie’s face. She’d stared at him as if he were a monster.

He had to tell Lyon. Maybe his loss of control was due to the dark charm, but so far no one else had suffered such a breach of control. No, he feared the cause lay at the feet of his recently triggered Daemon blood. And if he was right?

He might soon turn into a monster for real.

Chapter Eight

Natalie could barely keep her eyes open, but she fought the pull of the soft bed as she waited for Wulfe to bring Xavier up to her room. The evening’s events had begun to take on a dreamlike, perhaps nightmarelike, quality. And yet here she sat, for all practical purposes the captive of shape-shifters.

Good grief. Wulfe’s face, as he’d changed, had turned terrifying with those fangs and eyes that were not human, yet not quite wolflike. Especially when he’d first turned toward her, furious, staring at her without recognition. She’d honestly thought he was about to attack her.

Then he’d recognized her. She’d seen the moment it happened. He’d looked so confused, so horrified, chagrin and shame filling those dark eyes. And she’d ceased to be afraid despite the fangs. Wulfe had returned, regardless of the face he wore.

She heard the click of the dead bolt and rose from the bed as the door opened and Xavier entered, cane first.

“Nat?”

“Here, Xave.” She strolled to him, speaking as she moved. “I’m glad you weren’t already asleep.” As her hand slid around her brother’s arm, her gaze met Wulfe’s. Her heart clenched at the misery that still swam in his eyes.

“I’ll wait outside,” he said, then closed the door, leaving her alone with her brother.

Natalie led Xavier to the bed, then sat cross-legged while he stretched out on his back, his hands behind his head.

“How are you holding up, Nat?”

She laughed, a single burst of air. “I can’t decide if I feel more like Dorothy in Oz or Alice in Wonderland.”

Xavier grinned. “It’s a lot like that, isn’t it?”

Natalie reached for him, her hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay here, Xave? You’re safe, right?” She knew her brother would tell her the truth. If he didn’t, she’d know it anyway. He’d never been able to hide his expressions, certainly not from her.

“I love it here.” He took her hand and held it, the Xavier equivalent of meeting her gaze. “The moment the Mage found us in Harpers Ferry, our death warrants were signed, Nat. Your friends and Mary Rose’s brother died for real, killed by the Mage and the Daemons. It was a miracle that you and me and Christy survived. But all of our lives ended that day, at least the lives we had before. In a way, all our lives belong to the Ferals now. If not for them, we’d have died. You don’t remember what happened on that battlefield, which is good, but I do. The things I heard and smelled and felt that day still give me nightmares, Nat. If the Ferals lose this war, we’ll all be living in constant terror. People will be dying by the thousands. And every doomsday prediction about civilization’s collapse will come true.”

Xavier sat up and turned to her, his face older and wiser than she’d ever seen it. “This might not be what I’d have chosen for my life. Cook’s helper to a houseful of shape-shifters wasn’t exactly in the career-options manual I read in high school. But I have a purpose here, a purpose I never had at home. Pink needs me. Even if she thinks she can do it on her own, she needs me. She’s so cool, Nat, and the guys are great. Sure, they’re kind of scary sometimes, like when they go feral and draw claws and start ripping into one another. But they’re good guys. And their wives are really nice. If I could have chosen this life, Nat, I would have.”