Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(73)

“Do you feel that?” he asked with wonder.

The love overwhelmed her, misting her eyes with tears. “Yes.” Yet neither of them had ever said the words. And then no words were possible as her body began to rise again, higher than before. Wulfe drove into her harder and faster, following her to those impossible heights, shattering right alongside her as she cried out with triumph and stunning release, and a love so deep she wondered if, within its glorious depths, she might drown.

Bracing himself on his forearms, he watched her, his eyes softer than she’d ever seen them. “I love you, Natalie Cash.”

Tears misted her eyes all over again. “I love you, too, my wolf.”

He kissed her nose and lifted up again, a gentle smile on his mouth. “I know. Your love is a miracle. It’s healing me in more ways than I’d imagined.”

She gave him an impudent grin. “Everything’s in fine working order, now.”

He laughed. “Thank the goddess.” But his gaze turned serious. “It was the strength of your love that broke through the tangled mess of my shattered mating bond, sweeping it all away. The sweetness of your kiss.” He stroked the hair back from her face. “Food has taste, colors are back to their true, vibrant beauty. And I can feel again. Passion, desire, need.”

As she watched him, as she loved him, her heart pinched. Because what would come of this love? What could come of it? Despite his words, he’d said nothing about the future.

Then again, given the precariousness of their current situation, any future might be very, very short.

Wulfe pulled out of her and rolled to her side, gathering her against him. She curled into him, her cheek on his shoulders, her arm around his waist, as he stroked her back. His mood, too, had lost its buoyancy, and she knew he had many of the same thoughts she did, the same concerns about the hours to come.

His fingers slid into her hair, and he kissed her forehead. “I’m going to keep you safe. Whatever else, I promise you that.” Quietly, they lay together, enjoying the feel of one another’s body pressing close. He traced the curve of her ear with his thumb. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me about your life, your work. I want to know everything there is to know about Natalie Cash.”

As she lay curled against him, a warm, comfortable breeze wafting over her bare skin as his hand moved to rub her back, she told him what she did, and why. How her brother James’s struggle to learn to read had all but destroyed his life. How she was determined to keep that from happening to other children.

Wulfe stroked her hair. “I love that your work matters to you. That it matters, period.” He brushed her forehead with his lips, then rose on one elbow to peer down at her, his gaze fervent. “I’ll get you home, Natalie. I’m not sure how, but I will.”

Even as she nodded, his reassurance made her ache. For the first time in her life, she’d truly lost her heart to another. How would she ever live the rest of her life without it? Without the man, the shape-shifter, she’d fallen in love with?

Together they rose and dressed. Wulfe took Natalie’s hand, loving the way she instinctively brushed against his side as they wandered among the stone formations of the Ilinas’ rock garden, brushing her shoulder against his arm as if she sensed his Feral need for touch—a need heightened by the empty chasm inside him that, for nearly six hundred years, had been occupied by his wolf. The silence in his head threatened to deafen him.

Yet, as empty as he felt without his animal, he knew he’d feel ten times more lonely once he’d taken Natalie’s memories and returned her to her world. The thought was enough to drive a blade through his heart, yet there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make her happy. Nothing.

But, goddess, he would suffer.

“What happens, now?” she asked softly beside him.

“I don’t know.” They were f**ked. The ritual that should have worked hadn’t, and they didn’t know why. The Daemons were going to rise. And when they did, if he wasn’t dead already, he’d likely fall under Satanan’s control. He might turn on his friends. On Natalie.

Royally, royally f**ked.

“I think you should consider pulling the primal energies, Wulfe.”

His mind shut down. “No.”

“With that kind of power, you might be able to beat Inir.”

Shadows darkened his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking. More than asking. I’m demanding that you not compromise the Ferals’ ability to win this battle, certainly not for me. If the Daemons are freed, Wulfe, I’m going to die. Likely in a horrific way. We all are. Please don’t ever lose sight of that fact.”

He turned to her, needing her to understand. “Just the little bit of that power that I consume when Satanan pulls it through us is enough to send me out of my mind. What do you think will happen if I open the channel? I’ll be swamped by it. I could kill every one around me. Everyone I care about.”

“I think you have more control in that state than you think. Every time you blank, you come back to me. To me, Wulfe.” She stared at him, such certainty in those gray eyes. “I can pull you back.”

“And if you don’t?”

“If the Daemons rise, we’re all dead either way.”

“No.” He dropped her hand and moved away from her, watching one of the small waterfalls, its spray welcome against the heat of his flesh. She didn’t know what she was asking. He wouldn’t even consider it.