Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(74)

He felt her arms go around his waist from behind and he slid his hands atop hers. A small shudder went through him as her welcome touch soaked into him.

“We’re connected, Wulfe,” she said quietly. “Beyond the channel key. I don’t understand it, I just know that it’s true. From the start, you’ve protected me. You won’t hurt me. I know that. And just as you’ll protect me, I’ll protect you.”

“Natalie . . .”

“Trust me, Wulfe. Far more importantly, trust yourself.”

Wulfe stared at the water tripping down the rocks, his heart pounding because the Ferals’ needed a miracle. But how could he possibly pull this off? How could anyone? If he lost control of the darkness, he could become the instrument of the world’s destruction.

Goddess, he prayed silently. I beg of you, don’t let that happen. I know you’ve been disappointed in me. I know you punished me for my vanity and my mistakes all those years ago. I’m reminded every time I look in the mirror. His hands gripped Natalie’s tight. I’m sorry. Please don’t make Natalie pay for my sins, too. Please protect her through this. And protect my brothers. If a life must be forfeit, let it be mine.

He felt a soft cheek rub against his shoulder. “I won’t let the darkness take you, Wulfe. I promise.”

With a shudder, he pulled her around in front of him, until he could hold her precious face in his hands. Her eyes were so calm, so sure.

“How do you have such faith in me?” he asked with wonder.

“Because I know you.” She placed a slender hand over her heart. “In here.”

As he stared into those gray eyes, alight with conviction, he felt a calmness beyond reckoning, a joy without bounds. “Goddess, how I love you.” Pulling her close, he kissed her, drinking of her essence, her strength, even as he shared his in return.

Slowly, they pulled apart. He caressed her cheek, subconsciously tracing the line of her missing wound, until he realized what he was doing. Strome’s words came back to him, that in order to pull the primal energies for himself, to open the channel fully, he had to give Natalie back the wound he’d taken.

“How could I ever intentionally hurt you?” he whispered, tracing that invisible line down her cheek.

Her hand covered his. “You won’t be hurting me, Wulfe. You’ll simply undo what you did before and give me back the cut that was always mine.”

“I would take a hundred to keep you from suffering that one.”

“It’s a small price to pay to save the world. Besides, I’d kind of like a rakish scar. A battle scar.” Her smile turned impish. “I rather like yours, Shifter. I rather fancy having one of my own.”

He shook his head, then snorted, remembering her as he first knew her—with her hair unwashed and tangled, that jagged wound across her cheek. From the very start, she’d never been anything but beautiful to him. From the first moment he’d spoken with her, that calm poise and courage of hers had shone through so brightly that her imperfections had faded to obscurity. He’d fallen in love with her then, wound and all. No simple scar would ever change that. A hundred scars wouldn’t change it.

And he finally understood that it was the same for her. His scars truly meant nothing to her, nothing but a chronicle of past events. As hers, if the day ever came that he felt driven to return it, would become a sign of her courage and a mark of battles fought.

“You humble me.” He stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her, caressing her lips with his, sliding his tongue into her sweet mouth, pulling her tight against his heart as he loved her. As she loved him in return. But as their tongues stroked one another, voices began to whisper in his head, and he jerked back, freezing.

My lord, it is done. My sorcerers have accomplished the impossible. They’ve created the unascended Radiant’s blood needed to open the Daemon Blade. All but two Feral lights have been doused, and the last two should be choking out any minute.

Gather your Ferals.

Done. The moment the true Ferals are no more, the ritual will begin. You will be free at last.

“What’s the matter?” Natalie asked, her expression worried.

“They’ve done it. They have what they need to open the Daemon Blade. We’re out of time.”

Wulfe grabbed Natalie’s hand and started running toward the Ilinas’ castle. “Melisande!” he shouted.

A second later, the petite Ilina materialized in front of him, her expression battle ready. “What happened?”

“Get us back to Feral House, now.”

Chapter Twenty

Wulfe raced into the Feral dining room through the back door, Natalie and Melisande close behind. Paenther, Fox, and Zeeland sat at the table.

“Roar!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, knowing his chief could be anywhere in the house. “Foyer!”

The three at the table leaped up and followed as he grabbed Natalie’s hand and ran down the hall. All the Ferals, hearing his shout, converged in the foyer within a minute.

“They’ve created unascended Radiant blood,” Wulfe told them. “Inir says only two of us can still shift. He’s preparing his Ferals to open the blade the moment they can’t. We’re out of time.”

“I’ve still got my animal,” Falkyn said.

Fox nodded. “As have I.”