Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(38)

Natalie watched him with worried gray eyes—eyes filled with compassion and strength. The sun sparkled on her hair, turning it to spun gold, the brightness making her aura pale by comparison. She was so pretty, it made him ache. Especially when she flashed him a soft gray-eyes smile that arrowed straight to his heart.

“She’s into you, boyo,” Fox said quietly beside him, Melisande in his arms.

“I saved her from the Mage.”

“I know a thing or two about female smiles, Wulfe, and that one is as warm and welcoming as any I’ve seen.”

At Fox’s grunt, Wulfe turned to find Melisande looking up at her mate with an eyebrow raised, yet softness in her eyes. “As any?”

“Except for your smiles, my love.” Fox lifted his hand and stroked his Ilina wife’s cheek.

Wulfe turned away, the raw tenderness between them too private. Instead, he gave in to the need to be close to Natalie. As he neared, she reached for him, and he took her hand.

“Are you okay?” she asked, squeezing her fingers around his.

“I’m still shifting.”

Frown lines formed between her pretty brows. “I’m sorry this is happening, Wulfe.”

“Me, too.”

“Vhyper, wait,” Lyon called. Wulfe glanced up to find the warrior turning back a few feet from the door. “The Shaman would like to examine you, Jag, and Kougar.”

With a curt nod, Vhyper returned to the yard and the others, coming to a halt before the Shaman. But, while Vhyper towered over the much smaller male, the Shaman had never been intimidated by any of the Ferals, and he waved his hands, reaching up to touch Vhyper’s bald head. With a frown, the Shaman turned to Kougar and did the same, then to Jag.

By the time the ancient male turned to face Lyon, all eyes were upon him.

“Their animals are not gone,” the Shaman explained. The hope his words created were dashed with his next utterance. “As yet. A wall has been erected between each man and his animal spirit, a wall that is disintegrating the connection and will ultimately sever it permanently.”

And once those connections were broken, the men would die.

“How long do they have?” Lyon asked.

“I don’t know. Jag’s connection feels no less strong than the other two, so I would venture to say there’s been no significant deterioration during the past hours. It might be months. Or only days.”

“And when we’re gone,” Hawke said, his expression bleak, “Inir will free the Daemons.”

“Maybe before then.” Still holding Natalie’s hand, Wulfe moved toward them, pulling her with him. “Inir and Satanan are feeling our lights go out, as they put it. They know that three of us have ceased to register as Ferals. They’re waiting for the rest of us to do the same.”

Low murmurs of surprise and dismay peppered the group.

“So they don’t even need our deaths to free the Daemons,” Vhyper growled. “They just need us to lose our animals.”

“At this rate, that could happen before nightfall,” Tighe muttered.

Kougar stroked his beard. “They still need unascended Radiant’s blood.”

“Which they’re working to create,” Paenther countered. He looked at Wulfe. “They haven’t succeeded?”

Wulfe shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard.”

Lyon turned to Ariana, who stood tight against Kougar’s side. “We need that ritual.”

The queen of the Ilinas nodded. “I’m working on it, Lyon.” Her expression turned resolute. “I will find it.”

Lyon nodded, but Wulfe saw the fear in his eyes, the fear that Ariana would be too late. A fear they all shared.

The mood was somber as Wulfe and Natalie entered the dining room again. Wulfe led her back to the kitchen, where Pink and Xavier worked.

Pink looked up as they entered, her expression tight. “What happened, Wulfe? I heard Vhyper’s unhappiness.”

“He and Kougar have both lost their animals, now, too.”

Odd bird eyes filled with misery. Natalie wouldn’t have thought such eyes would be so expressive, but she had no more trouble reading them than she did anyone else’s.

Xavier frowned. “Dude, that’s not cool.”

“No, it’s not. Natalie needs some breakfast, X.”

Xavier’s expression changed lightning-fast as it so often did. “I made Mom’s banana-nut pancakes for Pink this morning, and I have some leftover batter, Nat. They used to be your favorites.”

“They still are. So you’re cooking for the chef, now?” she teased.

“Hey, someone has to. She’s so busy cooking for everyone else, she forgets to eat.” Xavier poured the batter onto the griddle. How he knew where things were when he couldn’t see them, she’d never understood. “So, what did you think of watching the Ferals shift into their animals? You should have been here when Maxim shifted into a saber-toothed cat. That was awesome. The noises he made weren’t anything like you’d expect from a cat. He’s dead now—he was a seriously evil dude—but there will be another saber-tooth. Eventually, there will be twenty-six Ferals in all.”

She watched Wulfe as Xavier talked, saw the way his mouth tightened at twenty-six and suspected she knew what he was thinking. Twenty-six new Ferals. All of them new, because the current ones might soon cease to exist.