"The vortex closed on its own a few minutes after you left," Lyon said. "As for the other . . ."
Jag chuckled. "Had us a little Mage-throwing contest, right off the mountain. Sorry you missed it, Kougar-man."
"I won," Wulfe said.
Jag scoffed. "No way, Dog. It wasn't how many you could throw at once, it was how far you could throw them."
"I won." A smile twitched at Wulfe's scarred mouth. "And don't call me
Dog.
"
Kougar left them to their good-natured argument and started toward the throng of Ilinas and their queen. A low, warrior-type cheer went up from the women, and Ariana turned away from them, starting toward him.
They met halfway between the two groups, Ariana's eyes once more laser-bright and clear of the grief and worry of the past hours, her cheeks flushed with a health he hadn't seen in her since she'd been poisoned all those years ago. If possible, she was even more beautiful than before.
As she reached him, her eyes filled with a love his heart couldn't contain. She reached for him, and he took her hands, but neither spoke, their eyes sharing all that was inside them.
"I'd thought I loved you," Kougar said quietly, breaking the warm, full silence. "And I did, but with my heart all but closed, that love was a shadow of what it should have been." He released her hands and took her face in his palms. "A shadow of what I feel now. Be my mate, Ariana. For now. For always."
She met his gaze with eyes swimming in love. "Yes."
He grinned, a swift, fierce, triumphant baring of teeth. "You're mine, Ariana. I refuse to live without you again."
"And I, you."
They stared into one another's eyes, and he felt as if he were drowning in love, in the rightness. And yet some things hadn't changed. Some of his happiness slipped away.
"We're at war with the Mage. I can't forsake my brothers. And I know your maidens need you; but when it's over, we'll be together. Somehow, we'll be together even if I have to . . ."
She lifted a single finger and pressed it against his lips, silencing him. "We'll be together now."
His heart clenched. "I can't . . ."
"But I can. I realized something today in the midst of all this. All these years, I've believed my mistake was in thinking I could be both queen to my people and mate to you. I thought that if I hadn't tried to be both, none of this would have happened. I thought I had to choose one or the other. And being queen isn't a choice."
"And now?" he asked quietly.
"I've realized my mistake wasn't in trying to be both. It was in not learning how to do it well. I need you, Kougar. I'm not giving you up again. It's not even in the best interest of my race to do so. In the coming war, the Ilinas need strong allies, and there are none stronger than you and your men."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that the Ilinas can help in this war, and you're going to let us this time."
A smile softened her words, but the steel in her eyes told him there would be no talking her out of it. And, truthfully, he didn't want to.
"I'll be fighting at your side, Kougar, living at Feral House, if your chief will have me. Melisande and Brielle have been ruling the Crystal Realm for centuries. They don't need me for that. And, unless I'm mistaken, I'm needed here." She reached out and placed her hand over his heart. "With you."
Kougar felt his mouth stretch, widening into a fierce, primal smile as his world righted itself, finally. Completely.
He hauled Ariana against him, still grinning, loving her with his eyes as he leaned forward to kiss her. Lilies of the valley filled his senses, love singing its Ilina song in his head--the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard aside from Ariana's sweet voice. His heart overflowed on a rush of love that cleansed him, inside and out.
"You're needed," he murmured against her soft lips. "By the Ferals, but more, far more, by me. Be my mate, Ariana. Renew the mating bond in the ritual with me. Be mine for always."
She pulled back to look into his eyes, her own shining with the same endless well of love and glistening tears.
"I always have been yours, Kougar. And I always will be. Always."
In the ritual room deep beneath Feral House, Lyon intoned the ancient rite of mating as he dribbled the combined blood of the Ferals in a circle around the mating altar, a job that was usually Kougar's. That night Kougar played a different role. As the chanting continued, he drove into the woman beneath him, the glorious love of his life, her bright blue eyes shining with love and heat and power as they joined in this most elemental way, opening minds and hearts and souls to the power that would bind them for eternity. This time, without the interference of her maidens.
The room was nearly full to overflowing, the Ilinas acting as a privacy curtain as they circled the altar, their backs to the mating pair, a shimmering curtain of energy. Beyond them, the Ferals stood, their own power riding the floral-scented air, for before the mating ritual, Kougar had filled the room with flowers.
The chanting ended. Without looking, Kougar knew Lyon had poured the last of their mingled blood into one of the ritual fires. The resulting burst of power barreled through him. As one, he and Ariana came with roars of unbridled joy, and he sank into the beauty of her essence as she turned to mist.
Inside, the mating bond, which had already been all but fully renewed, transformed in a brilliant arc of light that flared out into the room from their joined bodies in a beautiful crystalline glow. A bond so much deeper, stronger, and far more beautiful than the original, than he'd ever thought possible.
Ariana, her gaze locked with his, began to laugh, and he joined her, euphoric, then pulled out of her to kneel on the altar and adjust his clothing. She turned back to flesh and sat up, lowering her ritual gown to her knees.
The Ilinas moved away, and Kougar leaped off the altar, swinging his bride into his arms.
A cheer went up from his brothers as they moved forward, congratulating him, embracing his mate, the wariness with which they'd always treated him at bay, if not entirely gone. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Someone had to keep this lot on their toes.
As the Ferals gave way, the Ilinas gathered around Ariana with soft touches and presses of cheek to cheek. They were happy for their queen and friend, but their wariness of him and the rest of the Ferals wasn't altogether gone. Not by a long shot.
"Where's Melisande?" Kougar asked, when the last of the Ilinas had stepped back, giving them some room. He knew Ariana's second had been there during the mating.
"She left."
"She was hoping you'd end it with me once and for all."
"Melisande's coming around." With a soft smile, she shrugged. "She not only didn't try to stop the mating, she attended . . . and didn't try to kill anyone."
"I see your point. I guess that's the best we're going to get for now."
"For now."
"Tighe!" Delaney's cry sent the room into a spiraling silence. Tighe and Hawke, both still unconscious, had been placed on pallets along one wall and blooded with the rest of the Ferals. The Shaman had urged them to include the pair in all possible rituals, hoping to draw them back into the world. Delaney had spent the ritual sitting on the pallet at Tighe's head, stroking his hair.
But at her cry, all hearts clutched with fear, Kougar's included. Until he saw Tighe's eyes blink open, a dimpled smile lifting his mouth as he stared up at his mate.
Kougar let out a deep breath of relief.
Thank the goddess.
"Did I dream you're carrying our baby, D?" Tighe's voice was hoarse with disuse but possessed a thread of strength that told Kougar he was going to be fine.
"You didn't dream it." Delaney cried out again, this time with laughter, as Tighe pulled her down on top of him and kissed her thoroughly. The Ferals numbered seven active warriors again and would soon number eight, even without Hawke. The new fox shifter had made contact and should be arriving in the next few days.
But one of the bands around Kougar's chest remained too tight. His gaze went to Hawke, lying alone, still lost to the darkness. Kougar had to believe that his friend would recover. He'd already made it his mission to talk to him for long hours--stories of the past, and the Wind. Stories that might stir his mind and encourage him to return to them.
And when Hawke finally woke, he'd tell him those stories again. He'd tell Hawke everything he wanted to know.
He turned back to find Ariana shaking her head softly.
"What's the matter?"
She nodded to her maidens, crowded against the wall farthest from Tighe and the Ferals.
"Opposite sides of the room, as if we've brought together warring factions," she murmured, curving her arm tight around his waist. "It doesn't need to be like this."
But even as she said the words, Kara and Skye approached Brielle with smiles and hands of friendship.
Kougar stroked Ariana's beloved head. "It's going to work out. Eventually."
"I suppose."
He turned her until she faced him, his arms loose around her back. "Trust takes time, Ariana. More time than it should for some of us. But when it happens, the Earth moves."
A smile lit her beautiful face. "I love you, Feral. Have I told you that?"
"You have." He kissed her. "But tell me again. And again. And again," he said, punctuating each with another kiss. "I love you, Ariana. More than I'll ever find words for." He pulled her against him, pressing her head to his heart as emotion nearly got the better of him. All those years of thinking her dead, of grieving for her. Of missing her.
Having her in his arms again was a miracle he would never stop giving thanks for. Not only was she in his arms, and in his life, but she was his as she'd never been before. Because he'd learned to give to her completely.
Across the room, his gaze caught Jag's as the jaguar shifter held his own mate against his chest, his eyes gleaming with suspicious moisture. An understanding Kougar wouldn't have thought possible even a few weeks ago passed between them.
Jag clenched his fingers behind his mate's back, his hand forming a thumbs-up. Kougar felt his mouth twitch with a smile and mirrored the move.
Jag threw his head back and laughed, drawing a chuckle from Kougar. His heart felt lighter than it had since he was a boy.
Ariana looked up at him, her eyes dancing. "You laughed."
"You make me happier than I've ever been."
A loving smile wreathed her face. "Then my life's goal is complete. And Kougar?"
"Hmm?"
"I feel the same."
Inside, his cat purred with satisfaction. And his heart gave a triumphant roar.
Thanks, as always, to Laurin Wittig and Ann Shaw Moran--friends, critique partners, and sisters of my heart who read and edit everything I write, keep me sane, and guide and guard these stories like a pair of loving godmothers.
Thanks, also, to my editor, May Chen, who lets me do (nearly) anything I want, but never lets me get away with anything. Couldn't do it without you. And thanks to the entire team at Harper Collins/Avon Books--in particular, Amanda Bergeron, Pamela Spengler-Jaffee, Wendy Ho, and the fabulous art department. And to my copyeditor, Sara Schwager, who always asks the right questions.
A big thanks to my agent, Robin Rue. It's wonderful working with you!
And a very special thanks to my readers for embracing the Feral Warriors and sharing your enthusiasm with me. I love hearing from you and love your questions, even if I can't always answer them without giving too much away!
To my family, my love and gratitude. Always.
They are Feral Warriors-- an elite band of immortals who can change shape at will. Sworn to rid the world of evil, their wild natures are primed for release . . .
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PAMELA PALMER
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∗ ∗ ∗
Kara MacAllister's quiet life is transformed forever the night a powerful stranger rips her from her home, claiming she's immortal and the key to his race's survival. Lyon arouses a fierce, primal hunger deep within Kara--beyond anything she ever imagined. But when their lives are threatened by an ancient evil, Kara and Lyon realize they have found a love they would risk their souls to claim . . . and a powerful desire that could never, ever be tamed.
The relief and welcome in her eyes as he approached nearly drove him to his knees. His hands shook with the need to pull her into his arms. For once he didn't have to fight the urge. He cupped her bare shoulders and pulled her against him, his passion igniting and flaring into a wildfire with the first brush of his heated flesh against her silken skin. Her breasts pebbled against his bare chest. Her scent rose up, clouding his mind, ensnaring him in a haze of lust that was almost too thick to breathe.
When he covered her mouth, reason fled. Her sweetness drugged him, stealing all thought but the certainty she was the only sustenance he would ever need. His hands pressed against her back, pulling her closer as her own hands swept up to catch in his hair, holding him tight.
His tongue swept inside the lush cavern of her mouth, seeking its mate, drawing small moans from her throat that grew in force until she was rocking against him. In a far, distant corner of his mind, he remembered where they were. Remembered they stood within the circle of his fellows. He should let her go and step back.
But his beast roared,
Mine!
and he increased the pressure of his tongue strokes instead, marking her, his beast daring the goddess to ignore his claim. In a trembling rush, Kara came apart in his arms, clinging to him as soft whimpers escaped her throat.
Lyon continued to kiss her, drinking in the heady taste of her release until the torrent passed, and she clung to him. Slowly, regretfully, he released her mouth and held her tight against him until she could stand on her own.
Sweet goddess, he wasn't letting her go. She had to be his. His logical mind took up the cry of his beast.
Mine.
But she would only be his if his fingertips glowed in the mark of the true mate.
His scalp began to tingle with cold realization. Glowing fingers would have triggered a shout. A cheer. The only sounds that met his ears were the crackle of the fires and the stunned and utter silence of his brothers. He knew. Before he ever pulled away from her and looked at his hands,
he knew
there would be no glow.
Mine!
his beast roared in anger and betrayal. But he lifted his hands and stared at the traitorous normalcy of his flesh.
Kara wasn't his.