He dropped his head. "We were wrong. Others regained the power to shift. One here, another there." He looked up again, his eyes unseeing. "It was days before we began to realize only one from each clan had regained his or her power. But in many of the clans, no one had regained that power and never did. It was weeks before the fear set in that the healing was over. That those who had not been able to shift again never would."
He shook his head, lost in the past. "The anger. The
fury.
I know they were terrified, but . . .
goddess.
" A pulse of pure anguish escaped the mating bond, telling her he must be holding the emotions close with an iron fist.
And suddenly she understood. "You were the only one able to shift among the cougars."
Kougar turned to her slowly as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Yes."
"And they turned on you." Ariana fisted and flexed her hands, easing the prickly discomfort of the poison's rising hunger.
His mouth compressed, his gaze glazing over as he once more faced the garden. And the past.
"The first of the jaguars to shift had been attacked by his clan in a jealous rage and killed. Three weeks later, another was marked. Rumor--true, as it turned out--raced through the clans that only one of each line would be marked at a time, another to take his place upon his death. And suddenly we were all in danger. Men I'd lived with, fought with,
my family,
turned on me."
Laughter rang out from below, a sharp counterpoint to the ugliness of the past.
"Three of my clan mates, the closest of my brothers, helped me escape. Together, we fled to a cave the clan often used during hunting, where they promised to defend me, to watch my back until the anger died down." The muscle in his cheek leaped, his mouth taking on a hard, terrible line. "It was a setup. A trap. My father, the clan chief awaited us in that cave, along with the clan's seven strongest fighters. It was his right to be the clan's shifter, he said. A right I'd stolen. And the punishment was death."
As Kougar spoke, his hands moved to the railing. Ariana watched silently as the gold reshaped beneath the fury of his fingers.
"I shifted and fought my way out of there, barely escaping with my life. Never before or since have I run from a fight; but, despite their betrayal, I couldn't kill them. They were my brothers, my family.
"A horse shifter,
the
horse shifter, came upon me as I raced on bloody paws across the valley, badly injured, my clan mates in pursuit. The horse told me to shift and hop on, and I did. He, too, had been attacked. While there had never been any love lost between the cougar and horse clans, we became brothers that day. He was the only one in my life who didn't have a reason to kill me. Over the course of the next few weeks, most of the remaining shifters came together, bound by a common strength and a common enemy--the rest of our race. Almost too late, we found the one remaining Radiant and brought her to us. Then we fled to build a stronghold from which to defend ourselves.
"When it became clear that our combined might could not be overcome, the Therians ceased to attack us. Slowly, over the course of years, the nonshifters lost the power they'd once had, the disparity in strength becoming greater and greater."
Kougar fell silent.
Ariana wanted to move closer, but stayed where she was, his past like a wall between them.
"The only ones you could trust were the Feral Warriors," she said quietly.
"Yes."
And they still were. He might have loved her once, but he'd never fully trusted her because she doubted he could trust anyone but his Feral brothers anymore. And she'd only made it worse by betraying him, too, by severing the mating bond and never telling him she was still alive.
Goddess.
How could I
have ever thought we
might still have a future?
She swallowed hard, struggling to ignore the increasingly uncomfortable prickling in her palms as she wished there was a way to make up for the pain she'd caused him. As she wished she knew how to make it right between them.
She'd wanted the truth. Now, having heard it, she realized how much further apart they were--so much further than she'd thought. She'd wanted him to open up to her, and he had. With his words, his past.
But it was his heart she wanted. A heart badly damaged all those years ago by the betrayal of his clan. Then damaged again by her own betrayal.
If they survived Hookeye's poison, if they had a future to face, she'd offer him everything she had. But if he still believed he'd be happier without her in his life, she wouldn't fight him.
Never again would she willingly cause him pain.
Kougar felt flayed alive by the memories of that time he'd tried so hard to forget. His head ached, his chest was a coiled rope pulled too tight even as the poison burned in his heart. Anger bit at him, a deep frustration that Ariana had made him dredge it all up again.
But even if she asked for his head on a platter, he'd give it to her. He'd never stopped loving her.
Below, the celebration continued, the maidens all dancing naked beneath the moon's glow, the music lush and beautiful, played by no fewer than a dozen instruments, many of which he knew to be unique to the Ilinas.
Beside him, Ariana made a sound low in her throat. Half growl, half groan. In an instant, the past no longer mattered.
"What's wrong?"
"The poison. The darkness is growing hungry, and it's annoying the shit out of me."
"Would you normally try to feed it at this point?"
"Yes." She met his gaze. "The battle begins."
"Brielle!" His shout rang down into the garden. A moment later, the Ilina appeared beside him, a naked, mistlike wraith cloaked by a tumble of waist-length dark curls. "Go to Feral House and tell Lyon I need flowers. As many of them as he can get his hands on in the next twenty minutes." Ariana was going to need all the strength . . . all the pleasure . . . he could give her.
Wulfe stood in the shadows between two old brick buildings in downtown Harpers Ferry, spring sunshine warming the sidewalk at his feet. But he barely noticed the sun or the people strolling by, their steps quickening as they caught sight of him. His gaze was fixed on the store across the narrow street, on the window crammed with T-shirts, Confederate soldier caps, plastic place mats with Civil War battlefield scenes in faded colors. And Natalie.
A short while ago, he'd laid the unconscious women on the grass not far from where the Ferals had left the bodies of their friends days ago. Then he'd stayed close enough to keep watch over them until they woke. Until Natalie led Christy into town as he'd directed her to when he took her memories.
Standing in the window, holding a borrowed cell phone to her ear, Natalie looked out of place, her clothes rumpled, her hair tangled and unwashed. The Ferals had made the conscious decision to return the two women to their world looking like they'd been held captive, deciding their stories of not remembering anything would be far more likely to be believed than if they appeared well cared for.
But even unkempt and a little wild-looking, Natalie exuded an air of calm confidence. And he had a hard time tearing his gaze away from her. She remained on the phone until a silver Mercedes pulled up in front of the store, stopping in the middle of the narrow road with an impatient screech of brakes. A strong-looking young man in a business suit leaped out and ran around the car even as Natalie rushed out the door to meet him, Christy close behind her. The man swept Natalie into his arms and cradled her against him, the sun glinting off the tears on his cheeks.
Wulfe shook out his knotted fists and consciously relaxed his jaw. This was good, the way it should be. Natalie was back in her world with a man who clearly loved her, a man who would stand by her and help her through the tough days to come.
Natalie Cash was no longer his concern.
Ariana watched as a dozen of her maidens misted into her private garden, once more dressed in their festival gowns, their arms laden with blooms of every kind and hue. Gorgeous arrangements in glass vases were set atop sapphire rocks in the small private garden outside the queen's chambers. Beribboned pots were lined up like fragrant soldiers along the crystal walk. And single-stemmed roses, tulips, and lilies were scattered over the rocks and silk pillows, and across the lip of the pool, as if strewn by a gentle wind.
Kougar stood at her back, his arms around her, his chin on the top of her head as his pelvis pressed against her backside, his thick erection telling her he was more than ready for the task ahead.
But amid such beauty, with seduction and passion moments away, all she could think of was blood. The darkness, with its ravenous hunger, clawed at her control, demanding pain. And blood. Anyone's blood.
"Smell," Kougar said, his hand sliding restlessly across her abdomen, down one of her hips and back up again. "Smell the flowers, Ariana."
And she did. The blooms filled the air, a glorious profusion of sweet scents that pleased her Ilina need for beauty of all kinds.
"I'm going to make love to you among the flowers," he whispered against her temple, his hands growing more restless, more needy by the moment. "I'm going to caress your body with rose petals, then follow every inch with my lips."
His words battled back the growing need for violence within her. The flowers themselves warmed her heart--the fact that after all this time, he remembered what pleased her most.
One by one, the maidens left, some walking out, some misting. Only Brielle remained, her hands clasped before her, her eyes unhappy.
Ariana frowned. "What's the matter, Brie?"
Brielle's gaze didn't meet hers but remained fixed on Kougar. "I have a message from Lyon." She glanced at Ariana, apology in her eyes, before meeting Kougar's gaze once more. "The tiger shifter's mate is with child."
Ariana felt Kougar's surprise, his grip on her tightening. The tiger shifter would be Tighe. One of the Ferals in the spirit trap.
Oh, no.
Brielle continued. "Because his mate is not true Therian, the child appears to be drawing much of its life force from its father. The shifter's mate has been in contact with him and is still able to sense him, but he's lost all consciousness and appears to be weakening quickly. She fears he doesn't have much longer. Hours, not days. Lyon wished you to know."
With each word, Kougar's body turned stiffer, more rigid, until she felt as if she were being held by a man of stone. A stone that was beginning to quake.
"I'm sorry," Brielle whispered, then misted away.
Ariana lifted her hand to Kougar's cheek, turning in his arms to look at him. Raging fury gleamed in his eyes. And a desperate determination.
"We have to make this work." His words were so low as to be almost a growl.
"It's going to work." Her hand on his cheek began to curl as the darkness inside her clamored for blood. She snatched it away before she could score his flesh.
Kougar grabbed her, sweeping her into his arms. With fast, purposeful strides, he carried her down the stairs and into the middle of the oasis that, for once, looked like a true garden. Almost roughly, he put her on her feet, hauled her into his arms, and kissed her with a passion that rode the edge of violence. And she reveled in it, the darkness egging her on.
As her tongue twisted with his, she gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his flesh through his shirt. Against her will, her grip tightened until she felt the slickness of blood against her fingertips.
Kougar grabbed her wrists and jerked her hands away from him. "Don't give in to it!"
She stared at him. "I need to hurt something. Someone. If only
he
were here." She'd gladly rip Hookeye limb from limb if not for the certainty that doing so would destroy everything she sought to protect. But all that mattered was starving the poison so she could turn to mist.
Mage eyes rose in her mind, sending goose bumps skating over her skin.
Starving the poison is a foolish idea, Queen of the Ilinas.
"Tough. Shit." She shivered with revulsion.
Kougar lifted a brow.
"Hookeye," she explained.
Kougar grasped both her wrists in one hand and grabbed her jaw with the other, hauling her close. "Focus on me! The flowers. The waterfall. Smell, Ariana.
Feel.
"
"I am!"
"Not enough." In the blink of an eye, he released her and pulled her gown up and over her head, tossing it aside. As she reached for him, uncertain whether she meant to grab for his buckle or rake her fingernails down his face, he lifted her and tossed her onto the pillows.
When she tried to get up, he flipped her onto her stomach, pressing her down with a knee to the small of her back.
"Kougar.
"
"Feel."
And she did.
Goddess.
A moment later, a delicate flower brushed against her hip, sliding over her buttocks and down her thigh. A soft, lush sensation in direct counterpoint to the violence struggling inside her. Even as she fought to get up, she shivered from the sensual pleasure of the bloom as it traced her opposite hip.
Kougar curled his fingers around her thigh and pulled her leg away from its twin, opening her to the touch of his flower. The petals slid along her sensitive flesh, drawing a moan of pleasure and need from deep in her throat.
Inside, the darkness growled with hunger and fury.
Without pulling the flower from between her legs, Kougar moved, his hand replacing his knee in the small of her back. A moment later, she felt his mouth on her butt cheek, nipping, scratching with his teeth as if he longed to take a bite and resisted . . . barely. Excitement tumbled inside her, the flower stroking between her legs growing damp and dewy.
Her hips began to rock as he drew the flesh into his mouth, sucked, and nipped. The flower disappeared as his fingers dove inside her, hard, in and out, in and out. She bucked wildly, gasping, then screaming as a blinding orgasm broke inside her.
"More, dammit. More!"
Kougar released her. Moving with his innate agility, he slid onto his back between her thighs and lifted her hips. Wrenching her wide, he pressed her down onto his mouth, shoving his tongue inside her and flicking it over her clit until she spiraled into another screaming orgasm.
The pleasure was almost more than she could bear.
So, too, was the terrible hunger.
She tried to push up, tried to kick free, her hands fisting until she felt the slick dampness of blood in her palms from her own fingernails. "I need to hurt you! Hurt me, Kougar. Hurt me!"
He slid out from beneath her, slamming her back down on the pillows, pinning her with his knee as she heard the rustle of fabric and watched his shirt sail to the ground out of reach. The sound of a belt being unfastened met her ears followed quickly by the slide of a zipper. A moment later the pressure at her back disappeared.
But as she pushed up on all fours, strong hands gripped her hips. She screamed with acute pleasure as Kougar took her from behind, burying himself deep.
This was what she needed! "Stay inside me. Stay. Inside."
He thrust deeper, harder, over and over, then slid an arm around her, yanking her up until she was on her knees. Even as his hips pounded against her, his mouth found her shoulder. He bit her lightly then raked his tongue over the spot and bit her again.
She was out of her mind with passion, sensation, her senses exploding with the smell of flowers and sex. As she rocked back against his hard thrusts, his hand closed around her breast, pinching her nipple nearly to the point of pain. She arched into his hold, wanting . . .
needing . . .
more.
The battle between pleasure and pain escalated into full-out war. Barely conscious of what she was doing, she reached for his face, feeling her nails sink into his cheek before he grasped her wrist and yanked her hand away.
Kougar flipped her around and pushed her back on the pillows without gentleness or care, understanding her need for pain. Then he fell on her, taking her roughly, pounding into her harder, deeper, with every thrust.
Her fingers dove into his hair, too hard, holding him too tight. He captured her with his gaze. In those pale eyes, she saw savage excitement and fierce determination overlaid by a heartrending tenderness. In those pale eyes, she saw the man she'd fallen in love with all those years ago.
Inside her, another orgasm began to build, harder, faster, higher than any that had come before. And building, right alongside it, was the hunger, a seven-headed monster devouring her body and soul. But Kougar gripped her with his gaze, held her together as the war inside her threatened to rip her apart.
As the orgasm broke, she screamed with the glory of it. Then cried out with horror as she felt the bonds she'd locked around the poison all these centuries snap free.
As she turned to mist.