Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(91)

“We can hope,” Lyon said somberly. “If they prove otherwise, we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

“What about the draden?” Fox asked, his arm around Melisande’s shoulders. “We always believed they were the remnants of the Daemons incarcerated in the blade, but there’s no doubt they’ve multiplied a thousandfold since ancient times. Do you think they’re gone now?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

Grizz suddenly pushed away from the wall and strode to Melisande. “I need to find Sabine.”

Melisande nodded, then gave Fox a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back.” A moment later, she and Grizz disappeared.

“Natalie,” Kara said with surprise. “Your wound. I just realized it’s gone again.”

Natalie reached for her cheek with a look of disappointment. “My badge of honor.”

Wulfe smiled and kissed her temple. “It disappeared along with your aura once I released the primal powers and closed the door on them. I can cut you a new one.”

She laughed, the sound the most beautiful beneath the heavens. “Thanks, but no.”

He grinned and kissed her soundly on the mouth this time.

“I wonder . . .” Kougar murmured.

Delaney made a funny sound and Wulfe lifted his head to find her watching him with wide eyes, her hand covering her mouth. Tighe gripped his mate’s shoulder, the look on his face half disbelief, half smile.

“What?” Wulfe demanded.

“Prick her finger,” Tighe said.

Wulfe scowled. “Why?”

Tighe’s smile escaped, his dimples flashing. “When Delaney was made the channel key, she became immortal. We thought it was pulling the clone’s half of my soul through her body that changed her, but now I’m wondering.”

Natalie’s eyes widened. “Immortal?”

“Speculation, only,” Wulfe murmured, but his heart began to pound. If Tighe was right, it wouldn’t necessarily change anything. Natalie wouldn’t have to stay with him, even then. She could go wherever she wanted, do whatever her heart desired. But if she did want to stay . . . they would have forever.

“How do we test it?” she asked, breathless, her eyes wide.

With an unsteady hand, Wulfe released her to pull a small switchblade from his pocket, then he held out his hand for her. “Just a prick,” he promised, but she placed her hand in his without hesitation.

Taking a deep breath, Wulfe gripped one slender finger and nicked the very end. A tiny pearl of blood appeared. He waited two seconds, then brushed it away, revealing skin uninjured. She’d already healed.

Joy lifted inside him.

Natalie’s wide-eyed gaze locked on his. “Do it again. A bigger cut this time.”

“It’ll hurt.”

Her calm gaze bore into his. “I need to know.”

So did he. This time he cut her palm, a shallow, half-inch slice. The blood welled again, and healed before their eyes.

“Immortal,” Tighe crowed.

The table fell silent. Because none of them, Wulfe included, knew if this was good news or bad.

Wulfe stood suddenly. “We need to talk.”

Natalie, stunned, nodded, and he grabbed her hand and led her up to his room.

Wulfe ushered Natalie into his bedroom. As he closed the door, she turned to him, her heart pounding, her mind in chaos. Immortal. She’d been turned immortal.

“What does this mean?” she asked, sounding as bewildered as she felt.

Wulfe stood as if frozen, watching her with liquid eyes. “It means you’re one of us, now. In a way. You have to hide what you are from the humans. From the mortals.”

“I can’t go home.” The thought tried to catch at her emotions, but found only small purchase, because the truth was, she didn’t want to go home. That wasn’t what she wanted at all.

“You can go wherever you want. We won’t be able to take your memories, now, and you will have to be careful of a lot of things, but I trust you, Natalie.”

She watched him, her pulse pounding. Emotions threatened to overwhelm her. “Wulfe . . . what if I don’t want to go home?”

A light sparked in his eyes, hope and joy, and she knew, in that moment, that he wanted her to stay. “But . . . your mom. Your kids with the vision problems.”

Her heart caught. How could she turn her back on them? The kids would find another doctor. But her mom would never survive the loss of all three of her children. Tears burned her eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to go.” And suddenly she was in his arms, his hands in her hair as he gripped her head, as his gaze bore into hers. “Tell me what I can do to make you stay.”

“Find a way for my mom to remain part of Xavier’s and my lives.”

“Done.”

“How . . . ?”

“Hell if I know, but I’ll fly to the moon and back if that’s what it takes to make you stay.”

Her heart filled, a smile lifting her mouth.

“What else, Natalie? I don’t see how you can keep your practice—I’m sorry—but tell me how I can help you make a difference, and it’s done.”

A small laugh escaped her throat because her dreams—dreams she hadn’t even known she possessed, were all coming true in one swift rush. “Maybe you can help me open the minds of a few more eye doctors to the benefits of vision therapy?”