Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(64)

Something stirred deep inside of him, a surprising rush of heat that flowed down through his body and into his loins, making them grow heavy and full. He sucked in a startled breath at the unmistakable feel of his first hard-on in months, maybe years. Why now? There were too damn many things happening to him!

He pulled away from the door before anyone even knew he was there and went in search of advice. He found Kougar in the library talking to Hawke, and shut the door behind him.

Both Ferals turned, concern in their eyes.

Hawke sighed. “You lost your animal, too.”

“No. Hell, no. I’ve got a woody.”

Kougar said nothing, made no indication he’d even heard him.

Hawke merely lifted a brow. “What caused it?”

“I just watched Natalie eat a chocolate-covered strawberry.”

Hawke nodded, all seriousness. “You like her.”

“Yeah, but I’m damaged, Wings. I haven’t gotten a woody without effort since Beatrice died.”

“Maybe you’re healing.”

“How can you heal from a broken mating bond?” He whirled to Kougar. “Is it possible?”

Kougar stroked his beard. “I’ve heard of its happening before, but only in cases where the original mating wasn’t right. And only when the right person came along.”

“And your mating to Beatrice was never right, buddy,” Hawke said. “We all knew that. If it had been . . .” Hawke shook his head, his eyes glowing. “What I feel for Falkyn, my Faith, I have trouble vocalizing, because finding the words for such depth of emotion stymies me every time. She’s the world to me—my heart, my life, the breath in my body. There are no words to express such overwhelming love. A love I’m almost certain you never felt for Beatrice.”

He hadn’t. He’d thought he’d loved her, and he might have if she’d ever cared for him at all. But what Hawke described resonated inside of him. Because of Natalie.

“Did something happen?” Kougar asked. “Did you kiss her?”

Wulfe hesitated, then decided he might as well come clean. “She kissed me.”

Hawke smiled. “That must have been a hell of a kiss.”

“It was as chaste as they come.”

Kougar plucked at his beard. “It may have been chaste, but the emotion behind it was powerful indeed.”

“You think my feelings for her did this?”

“And her feelings for you.”

Wulfe blinked, confusion colliding with joy. She liked him, he knew that. But Kougar had used the word powerful. “I have no idea what she feels for me.”

Hawke clasped him on the shoulder. “Whatever the reason for your woody, it’s a blessing. Go find her and kiss her back.”

As if he hadn’t already done that and much, much more.

Wulfe nodded. His friend was right. With his body stirring like a summer storm, he could finally share the intimacy with Natalie they both wanted.

The question was . . . should he, when everything was so screwed up?

Wulfe was halfway up the second flight of stairs, his blood on fire with dreams of pulling Natalie into his arms and stripping both of them bare, when the sound of pounding footsteps had him glancing back. Lyon and Tighe were running up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

“Wulfe,” Tighe called.

“What’s going on?”

Lyon’s mouth compressed. “Natalie. Melisande found me.”

Hell. Natalie was in pain and the women had sent for Lyon, not him. Turning, he ran up the remaining stairs and started down the hall.

“Don’t touch her!” Lyon called from behind.

Wulfe strode into his chief’s bedroom to find Natalie hunched over on the bed beside Kara, her hands clenched against her knees, tears glistening on her cheeks.

The women looked up as he entered the room, Delaney and Falkyn scooting aside to give him access. But as he reached Natalie, as he pulled her into his arms, she threw up her hands, blocking her face.

“Don’t. Please. It’ll stop.” She grabbed his hand. “Just hold me.”

“Always.” But it flayed him alive to see her in such pain and not do what he could to end it.

Lyon and Tighe rushed into the room, coming to a standstill halfway to the bed. Lyon began issuing orders. “Melisande, move Kara to the Radiant’s room. All non-Ferals out of here. Now.”

Olivia stood her ground. “Let me help, Lyon. I can weaken him if you need me to, and he can’t hurt me. I’m still immortal.”

Wulfe felt like a f**king wild animal on the verge of going rabid.

Lyon nodded, then turned to Melisande. “I could use you, too, once you have Kara settled.”

One Ilina couldn’t mist an unwilling Feral Warrior, but one Ilina could call half a dozen more in two seconds. And half a dozen Ilinas could mist him to the North Pole, if they wanted to. Or the Crystal Realm, for that matter.

“I’ll be right back.” A moment later, Melisande and Kara disappeared.

Wulfe’s jaw worked as he swallowed the need to yell at them all that he wasn’t going berserk, dammit! Because, hell, he didn’t know what he might do. Even if he managed to keep from easing Natalie’s pain, for all any of them knew, he might still go crazed. Because none of them really knew what the f**k was going on with him.