Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(63)

Grizz whirled on Lyon. “It’s done. Send her home.”

“Get back in your cage first.”

Grizz glared at the chief of the Ferals but did as commanded. As the door clanged shut behind him, he dipped his head close to Sabine’s.

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.” Her words were barely audible even to Feral ears, and broken.

“I know.”

As Wulfe watched, one of the Ilinas appeared in Grizz’s cage, and in the blink of an eye, Grizz once more stood alone.

“Are we going to perform the Renascence, now, or wait for nightfall?” Tighe asked, a thread of excitement weaving through his words.

Kougar stroked his beard. “She claimed every one of them a good soul.”

Paenther nodded. “And Kara’s told us she was wholly unimpressed with the two Ferals she was forced to bring into their animals by Inir. Neither revealed much courage, let alone honor. It makes sense that the honorable ones were drawn to us, the evil ones to Inir.”

Lyon turned and strode out of the prisons, his expression grim. Glancing at one another, Wulfe and the others followed silently.

“My office,” Lyon said, as they reached the foyer.

A moment later, Paenther roared, “No.” The male turned ashen, his eyes filling with anguish. “My panther . . .”

Another one down. Wulfe clasped him on the back and they followed, single file, into Lyon’s office. As Lyon rounded his desk, his hand went out to steady himself.

“Roar?” Kougar reached for him, but Lyon reared back with a shout of agony and despair, and Wulfe knew he’d lost his animal, now, too.

They were falling like flies.

“You still have yours?” Tighe asked.

Wulfe nodded. As far as he knew, there were only five of them who could still shift now, himself and the four newest Ferals—Falkyn and Fox, Lepard and Grizz. How long until their lights, too, went out?

Deep inside, his wolf howled in misery.

Lyon sank onto his chair, burying his face in his hands. The others took seats or stood silently, waiting for him to grieve and to gather his thoughts. Finally, he looked up, his expression more than fury, more than grief. In that strong visage he respected above all others, Wulfe saw fear.

“It’s critical that we bring the new Ferals into their animals as quickly as possible.” Lyon’s jaw turned hard as granite, his voice dropping to an anguished whisper. “But what if Sabine was wrong?”

“A Valkyrie can’t lie,” Kougar said.

“And the animals always mark the strongest, most honorable Therians to become new Ferals,” Lyon countered. “We believed that, too. What if both are wrong?”

Kara would die.

Paenther sighed. “We only have to bring one new Feral into his animal to stop Inir.”

“Which one?” Lyon turned to him, his eyes as bleak as an arctic storm. “Is there one of the three you would stake Skye’s life on?” His gaze swung around the room, pinning them in turn. “Or Ariana’s? Or Delaney’s? Or Natalie’s?”

Wulfe’s reaction was fierce and immediate, his hands fisting at his side. He didn’t care what the hell Sabine had claimed, there was no way he’d risk Natalie on the word of a stranger. And no way they could risk Kara. Yet the fate of the world might ride on this decision.

To a male, they looked away, unable to hold their chief’s gaze.

Lyon shot to his feet with a furious roar. “We must bring one of them into his animal. We must.” His voice fell to nothing as he leaned on his desk, palms flat, his head bowed. “But goddess help me, I can’t. I can’t risk Kara, even to save the world.” Slowly, he lifted his head, staring at them, one by one, his expression a mix of guilt, desolation, and belligerence, as if he expected a fight. As if he wanted one.

But not a male there had it in him to argue. Not only would they have made the same decision in Lyon’s shoes, but every one of them adored Kara. None would risk her life.

“Grizz is going to be furious when he realizes his efforts were all for nothing,” Tighe murmured. His gaze turned to Lyon. “Now what?”

“The same as before. We figure out how to get our immortality back, then we go after Inir and stop him before he can free the Daemons.”

So very simple.

So f**king impossible.

Chapter Seventeen

Wulfe climbed the stairs, his heart heavy with worry and dread, his nerves frayed. He needed to see Natalie, to settle his wolf and quiet his own desolate soul. He found her sitting on the bed with the other Feral wives, sipping a glass of wine as Kara talked about her time as Inir’s captive. If this was meant to be a party, it was a failure, in his estimation. Then again, every woman there was as sharp as the tip of a spear and knew exactly what the Ferals were facing. It only made sense that they’d discuss their worries among themselves.

His gaze followed Natalie, watching her as she listened somberly to Kara describe the cruelties she’d seen in that place, and how she’d been forced to bring two new Ferals into their animals, two males she believed were evil. As he watched, Olivia picked up the box in the middle of the bed and offered it around the circle. One by one, the women pulled out a chocolate-covered strawberry, but it was Natalie he watched, his gaze following the sweet fruit as she lifted it to her mouth and closed her teeth and lips around it.