Passion Untamed (26 page)

He saw Skye’s hand reach out and take Vhyper’s. To his surprise and relief, his friend didn’t pull away but curved his hand around her smaller one and held on as if her touch alone kept him from flying apart into a million pieces. A tiny curl of jealousy slid around Paenther’s heart, then dissipated. He was about to take as his mate a woman,
an enchantress, to whom all the Ferals would be drawn on some level. And while she’d told him she had no particular affinity for snakes, she had a heart big enough to care for all creatures, two-legged and four-. And those without any legs at all, for that matter.

It was a moment before his mind backpedaled to the words he’d thought without hesitation.
He was about to take as his mate…

He stared out the window, stunned, and yet…certain. He was taking her as his mate. If she agreed, if she wanted him, he would willingly bind himself to her for all eternity.

They wouldn’t be able to live at Feral House, of course. Not with her being Mage, but it didn’t matter. He’d find a safe house nearby and split his time between them. This woman wasn’t getting away from him. Ever. He just hoped whatever was going on inside him gave him the time to make good on that promise.

Once more, Skye stood on the goddess stone, dressed in nothing but a filmy ritual gown, Kara and Delaney on either side of her as they waited for the Ferals to raise the Feral Circle. The winds weren’t as bad this far from the mountains, and the rains had ended, but the sky was still dark despite sunrise being nearly upon them.

Paenther stood with the others, his strong form tense with a pain she prayed she could ease. Inside him, the panther no longer leaped to greet her. He barely lifted his head at all. But she felt his will, felt him demanding help that only she could give.

Tighe had called Lyon as they’d driven in from the mountains and told him Paenther was in bad shape.

When they’d arrived at Feral House, the Shaman had been waiting, ready to clear Birik’s spells from her cantric now that the Mage was dead. Kara had helped her change into the ritual gown once he was done. The moment she was ready, Lyon had ushered them all down to the goddess stone.

All but Vhyper. Vhyper alone remained at Feral House, at Lyon’s command. He was glad to have the warrior back, but he didn’t entirely trust him yet. None of the Ferals did, except Paenther. Sadly, they seemed to trust her not to hijack the ritual more than they trusted one of their own.

Paenther came to her and took her hands. “Are you ready?”

“I need to know something. I’ve been thinking about how to make this work, and I need to know what Ancreta did to you to cause this rift in the first place. It might be important to repairing it.” She touched his face, loving him with her eyes. “Tell me what you remember.”

“As little as possible.” He gazed down at her, his eyes pained, yet filled with love. Once more, the feral mark across his eye was nearly gone. “She opened my mind, then chanted some words I can’t begin to remember.”

“I don’t need the words. My power’s enough. But I think we need to open your mind as I pull the power.”

He released one hand to stroke her jaw, his eyes gentle on her face. “Do you want to do this somewhere more private?”

She gave him a rueful smile. “I got over any shy
ness about my body a long, long time ago. No, I think we need to do it here. We’re going to need to raise the power of the panther again. He’s the one who has to do most of the work, and he’s weak, Paenther. He has to breach the gap Ancreta formed between you, and he’s going to need all the strength you can give him to do it.”

She pressed her palms to his bare chest. He was wearing his leather pants again, but all the Ferals had doffed their shirts to prepare for the ritual. Through the link of flesh, she stroked the animal spirit inside him, telling him with her heart that she would do what he wanted and try to get him the power he needed to find his way back to Paenther.

“Does he know what we’re doing?”

The panther brushed her mind, a growl of gratitude and approval. She nodded. “He knows. He’s ready.”

“It amazes me you understand him.”

“If this works, you will too, soon enough.”

“Then let’s do it.” He led her down to the circle, told his friends what they were going to do, then swept her into his arms, kissing her with a hot, deep-throated kiss. When he pulled back, he growled to his men, “Close your eyes. This is about to get private.”

Grunts and groans rose around them, but Skye closed her eyes, shutting them out. The only thing that mattered was healing Paenther. The only one who mattered was the one she loved.

“Look at me, Skye.”

She did, gazing into Paenther’s strong, beloved face, and tumbling into the dark depths of his eyes.

Holding her gaze, he reached for her breast, kneading, teasing, then grabbed the back of her head and tilted her face to meet his hard, passion-ate kiss. She knew his intent was to drive her up, hard and fast, and he knew just how to do it. The hand on her head slid down her back and grabbed her rear. Then he yanked on her gown until he was able to reach beneath. His warm hand slid between her thighs. His fingers stroked that sensitive flesh, nearly melting her, before they dove deep inside.

His scent, his taste, the feel of his muscled shoulders beneath her hands combined with the blissful feel of his fingers inside her, had her quickly weeping with need.

He pulled away, unfastened his pants to free his erection, then grabbed her hips.

“Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on, Beauty.”

Paenther lifted Skye’s dress to her waist, then gripped the backs of her thighs, spreading her wide for him as he lifted her. He probed between her legs with his shaft, seeking her entrance. Finding it, he pulled her hips toward him and thrust inside her tight, wet sheath on a stab of ecstasy.

Skye threw her head back with a moan of pure pleasure.

“Oh,
Paenther
.”

His name on her lips destroyed his control. He pulled nearly all the way out of her before pressing home a second time and a third, over and over, each thrust more desperate than the last.

So intense was the pleasure he nearly forgot the reason for it. “Say the words, Beauty. I’ll help you say the right ones.” Together they called her power.

His voice broke off, midchant. “I’m getting close. Goddess, you send me up faster than…” He kissed her hard and pulled back on a groan. “The power of the beasts!” he called. “Now!”

Skye gripped his head from behind, and he knew she fought to reverse the damage Ancreta had done to him all those years ago.

The men circled tight around them even as Paenther continued to thrust inside her.

The scent of fresh blood mixed with the heady scent of sex teased his nostrils. He didn’t have to look to know they were cutting themselves.

“Lean back, Skye,” Lyon’s voice said. “I need to cut his chest.”

She curved her back, giving Lyon minimal room to get a knife between them. Paenther shifted her, holding her rear with one arm as he slid his hand against his bloody chest, then shoved his fist in the air.

“Empower the spirit of the panther!”

Like before, thunder rumbled. Power roared up through the Earth. The rush of pleasure and pain sent them both over the edge in the next thrust of his body inside her, sending them tumbling in a
single spiral of ecstasy. As the orgasm tore through his body, he felt the power erupt within him ten times stronger than before. Paenther shouted, half pleasure, half pain. Skye screamed.

Around them, the other Ferals shouted, but he heard no pain in the sound. Pleasure, yes. And triumph.

“Holy shit!”

“Did you feel that?”

The Ferals’ excited voices bombarded his ears.

Skye continued to whisper the words Ezekiel had taught her, alone this time. Now that her cantric had been disabled, she no longer needed his help. As she murmured the words, the pressure mounted in his head until he thought it would explode.

“Paenther, reach for him!” Skye cried. “He’s trying to get to you. Reach for him!”

Paenther closed his eyes, desperate to help, yet uncertain where to reach, where to turn. And suddenly he felt it, the second presence struggling toward him through a thick, bright barrier. With his Feral’s strength and determination, he pushed against that invisible wall with every ounce of mental power he possessed.

It shattered. In a burst of light that rained down over him like broken glass, the barrier burst. And standing within a rainbow mist was a sleek and beautiful black panther. A creature, a spirit, he’d never seen, yet knew in the deepest reaches of his being.

The panther roared, a jubilant sound of triumph
and rapture. Then he leaped, and suddenly they were one, their minds brushing, intertwining, snapping together like two pieces of a puzzle. And as one, they swung their gazes to Skye, who was still in his arms, still cradling him deep within her body. The woman they both loved.

For one sharp moment Paenther felt a pinch of jealousy that the beast inside him loved her as thoroughly as he did. Then he laughed at himself. Laughed out loud. And felt the beast’s pleasure caress his mind.

Within him, a sudden pressure built, a desperate need to shift. He pulled out of Skye and set her down. With a swift kiss, he stepped back.

For the first time, he didn’t have to pull on the power. All he had to do was think of himself as an animal, and in a sparkling flash of light, he became one. The shift was amazingly, incredibly, without pain. Instead, he felt a rush of such pleasure he could barely credit it. The pleasure raced through his body, extinguishing the pain, flushing the rage he’d lived with for three hundred years.

He stood on the rock, the cold damp wind blowing in his cat’s face. His vision was clearer, his senses keener, his body stronger, more vibrant, more alive as he drank in the feel of the spirit bounding through his mind. One. After all these years, one, at last.

His gaze swung to Skye. One with his beast, perhaps, but not whole. Not completely. Not yet.

Thinking of his man form, he shifted, smooth as glass.

Belatedly, he realized the wind had stopped, the sky had cleared, and in the east, the sun was starting to rise. He reached for the beauty who owned his heart…and stopped midreach as he stared at the sleeve on his arm.

“How is this possible? I lose my clothes when I shift. I always have.”

“Your gifts come through the power of your animal. You’ve been lacking a lot of that power.” Skye’s smile was the sweetest in the world. “Now that he’s with you, you’ll both be stronger.”

He gathered her hard against him, then swung her around, laughing. Finally he set her down and turned to his men, who were all watching him, bemused.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh,” Tighe said, a quiet grin on his face and wonder in his eyes.

“I feel…reborn,” Paenther said.

His brothers gathered around him, slapping him on the back, and pulling him into hard, male hugs. His only disappointment was that Vhyper wasn’t there to share it with him. But he was up at the house, free of the evil. Trust might take a while, but it would come. He had to believe that.

Lyon grasped his forearm, then pulled him into a hard hug. When he pulled back, a rare smile lit his friend’s face. “You look like a new man, B.P.”

“I am. Thanks to Skye.” Paenther reached for her where she’d stepped aside and pulled her against his side.

Lyon held out his hand to her, his amber eyes
turning serious as he offered her this purposeful act of trust.

Her expression uncertain, Skye placed her hand in Lyon’s. He sandwiched it between the two of his. “The Feral Warriors are in your debt, Skye. If you ever need us, all you have to do is call. And you’re welcome at Feral House for as long as you wish to stay.”

Paenther watched her eyes tear as a warm, sweet smile creased her face. “Thank you, Lyon.”

His heart burned with love.

Skye looked at Paenther in surprise as he gave a tug on her hand, pulling her to a stop as the Ferals and their women made their way back through the rugged, rocky woods after the ritual. She’d heard Paenther say he felt reborn, but she didn’t think he had anything on her. For the first time in her life, she’d pulled good power instead of dark, without pain, and the rush had been breathtaking. Wonderful warmth had flowed through her body, full and strong and right.

She’d healed Paenther. And pleased Lyon. The Chief of the Ferals had accepted her and told her she could stay.

A bittersweet smile twisted her lips. While his offer had brought tears to her eyes, the decision wasn’t hers. She could only stay if Paenther wanted her to.

“Problem, B.P.?” Tighe asked, his arm looped around Delaney’s shoulders.

Paenther smiled, tumbling her heart all over
again. “I just want to talk to Skye without an audience, Stripes. We’ll be right behind you.”

As the others passed, he took her into his arms and held her against him. Just held her, his arms telegraphing a tension that had her starting to worry. Was this when he would tell her that a part of him would always love her, but of course she couldn’t stay? That he appreciated her help and wished her the best of luck in her life?

She buried her face against his warm chest and steeled herself for whatever he needed to say, refusing to let her grief show. She wouldn’t do that to him. To either of them.

Paenther stroked her hair. “Look at me, Beauty.”

Taking a deep breath, struggling to hide the heart that was breaking, she pulled back and looked up into his beloved face.

His expression melted, turning infinitely tender. “I love you, Skye. Since the moment I saw you in the Market, I’ve been obsessed with you. Even while I still thought I hated you, I was falling in love with you. And I know now that even though my panther and I are finally one, we’re not whole. And we never will be without you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “What are you saying?” she breathed.

He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “I want you to be my mate, Skye. To be by my side. Forever. I can’t live without you.”

She stared at him, hearing the words that had lived in her deepest dreams for days now. Hearing them, but not quite believing.

“Paenther…I’m Mage.”

He grinned at her.
Grinned.
“You don’t say.”

But it wasn’t funny. Tears burned her eyes, tears that were part joy and part heartbreak. “Don’t joke, Paenther. They’ll never accept me.”

He was immediately serious again, but his expression never lost that wonderful tenderness.

“Don’t cry, little one. They’ll accept you. Sooner or later, they’ll accept you. But until then, we won’t live at Feral House. I’ll find a place nearby and have it warded against draden attack. It’ll work, Beauty. I promise. I’ll make it work.”

His expression became intense, almost desperate. “You’re a fighter, Skye. Don’t let them scare you. Please don’t. Fight. For me. For us. All three of us.”

“Three of us?”

A tiny smile formed on his mouth. “You, me, and the panther. He’s a stubborn cuss. He’s growling at me to make you say yes.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You’re my world, Skye. My heart. My soul.”

Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead, then pulled back to look into her eyes again, love shining from his own. “Be my mate.”