Wulfe Untamed (24 page)

“The sabertooth!” Jag cried. “So it was
you
the animal meant to mark, not that bastard Maxim.”

Incredible.
A saber-toothed tiger, an animal not seen in nature in ten thousand years.

“Shift back, Zeeland,” Kougar said. “Choose to be a man once more, and it will be so.”

Zeeland did as he was told and in a burst of colorful lights and intense pleasure, he shifted back into a man. And he still had his pants on!

The others gathered around him, clapping him on the back and slapping forearms with him.

“Henceforth,” Kougar intoned. “You will be known as Zaber.”

“Kara,” Paenther breathed and all turned to find Lyon grinning as he lifted Kara high, their Radiant’s face aglow with health, at last.

The moment Lyon set Kara on her feet again, she strode to Zeeland and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close.

“Thank you, Zee. You just saved my life.”

“It’s my honor, Radiant. You may have just saved the world.”

The reminder was like ice water, dousing the jubilation. As one they turned to Wulfe. But even before Wulfe uttered a word, the paleness of his skin told them all they needed to know.

Tighe scowled. “We didn’t get Zeeland brought into his animal in time.”

“No.” A mix of fury and pain glowed in Wulfe’s eyes. “For a few minutes the only Ferals who registered were Inir’s evil ones. It was enough. They’ve begun the ritual to free the Daemons.”

Chapter Twenty-one

“H
ow long do we have before they free the Daemons?” Lyon demanded, pushing himself off the ground in the backyard of Feral House where the Ilinas had deposited them after bringing Zeeland . . . now Zaber . . . into his animal.

Wulfe rose beside him, his mind numb, still ringing with Inir’s triumphant shout. In that strange place inside him that Wulfe was beginning to think of as his Daemon soul, he could swear he felt that blade coming alive, little by little. He could feel it preparing to open.

“It’s impossible to know,” Kougar replied, watching them with the dispassion that had once been such a part of his nature and was now only a façade. “But I don’t think the Daemon Blade will open quickly. It was never meant to open at all.” He reached for his mate. “Ariana and I will mist to West Virginia, first. If Inir expanded his anti-Ilina warding, we need to know.”

“And if Ariana bursts into flames?” Lyon asked. They’d lost an Ilina to the warding the last time they’d tried to reach Inir, desperate to rescue Kara.

Ariana kissed her mate. “I’m going alone. I’ll test for the warding as I approach the mountain.”

As Kougar opened his mouth as if to protest, she disappeared.

Behind him, the back door opened and Wulfe turned to find Natalie rushing toward him, the sunlight in her hair. His heart tumbled. He opened his arms, and she ran straight into them.

“You’re going,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“Get your weapons!” Lyon called to the group, then turned to Olivia. “Is the Guard ready?”

“Ready and waiting, Lyon.” Olivia threw her arms around a bright-eyed Kara as the other wives gathered around them. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Wulfe kissed Natalie’s forehead. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He raced into the house, where several other Ferals were already retrieving their shirts, boots, and weapons. A minute later, dressed and armed, he strode back out through the dining room and into the sun just as Ariana returned.

“The spot we landed last time is still safe,” Ariana announced as Kougar hauled her against him, burying his face in her hair.

Wulfe returned to Natalie, pulling her close. “Wish me luck.”

Instead, she kissed his cheek. “Be careful.” Turning to him fully, she reached for him, cupping his face with her hands, meeting his gaze with a look of such unbounded love that it made his breath catch. He reached for her hips, pulling her close, drinking in her warmth, her sweetness, her strength.

“Wulfe.” His name sighed from her lips. “You are the finest man I’ve ever known. I know you can do this.”

He stared into those calm gray eyes. “Goddess, how I love you.” He kissed her, softly at first, tenderly, with wonder and care. Then more fiercely as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back as if staking her claim. As if sealing their fate.

“Wulfe!” Paenther called. “We’re going.”

With difficulty, Wulfe pulled away, but continued to touch her, stroking her cheek, sliding his head down her soft, silken hair. “Stay in the house. There are Ilinas here to watch over all of you and to mist you away if there’s any danger.”

She nodded, but they both knew the greatest danger to her was nothing the Ilinas could keep her safe from. It was Satanan.

“W
ulfe, get us to that fortress!” Lyon called.

The Allegheny Mountains rose all around them, thick with spruce and hardwoods beneath a rose-colored sunset sky. Wulfe turned toward the direction he knew Inir’s fortress to lie, the direction he felt in his Daemon blood would lead him to Satanan, and started to run.
Goddess,
he could
feel
the son of a bitch.

Behind him, his Feral brothers and sister, and the more than 150 Therian Guards, mobilized. The pounding of their feet vibrated across the mountainside, resonating deep in his blood. They were an impressive force though they’d have been far more so if the Ferals were still able to shift. At least they had one shifter among them, now. Zeeland.

Wulfe picked up speed, the knowledge that the evil Ferals were even now opening the Daemon Blade screaming like a siren in his head. For five thousand years, they and their Feral predecessors had kept Satanan from breaking free. Now they were minutes away from failure. Their only chance of success meant battling fully shifting, fully immortal evil Ferals. Goddess knew, it wouldn’t be a picnic, but at this point, he didn’t give a damn. He was so tired of sitting on his ass, so ready to fight!

“We’ve only got about an hour until the draden come out,” Hawke commented, as they ran. No longer able to shift, they’d be sitting ducks.

Vhyper grunted. “If we haven’t stopped the ritual in an hour, it’s not going to matter. We’re going to be dead either way.”

“We’ve got company,” Paenther warned. “Mage. More than a dozen of them.”

“We’ll take care of them,” Olivia called.

As half the Guard peeled off, Wulfe pressed forward, Lyon on one side of him, Paenther on the other, the rest of the Ferals close behind.

The seconds ticked away with his heartbeats, and he felt every fucking one. They had miles to go.
Miles.
And in addition to the Mage welcoming committee, they still had warding to get through and possibly something far worse. The last time they’d tried to breach this mountain, they’d found themselves eyeballs deep in a mind fuck of a labyrinth. If not for Fox, they might still be lost in there.

As the sound of battle rose behind them, Wulfe’s muscles tensed with the need to join in. Around him, he felt the restlessness of his brothers and knew he wasn’t the only one. It wasn’t in a Feral’s nature to run away from a fight, but the bigger battle lay ahead. And there was no time to waste.

The clouds rolled in suddenly, dark and full. The wind began to whip.

“Dead Mage,” Jag murmured, his voice tight and hard. It must be killing the male to remain with his Feral brothers when Olivia, his mate, was leading the charge in that battle.

Thunder rumbled across the sky. Mother Nature got pissy when her Mage, who’d once been as close to nature spirits as any being alive, were killed. The rain began to fall, hitting Wulfe’s shoulders, sliding through his hair.

Moments later, as he crested the rise, Wulfe saw what he’d been looking for—the curtain of shimmering color, blues and purples and reds, rippling and flaring across the entire landscape. In front of it sat a small, crystalline lake, its surface boiling with raindrops.

He raised his hand and slowed. “The warding.”

“I still can’t see it,” Hawke murmured.

“Good thing we have Daemon Eyes on our side,” Jag said.

“Wait here while I test it,” Wulfe commanded, surprised at how comfortable the mantle of leadership felt on his shoulders. He’d been good at this once, in the old days. Until the goddess took umbrage and struck it all away. Would she do so again? The thought had his gut clenching.

The warding flowed, swaying back and forth like a sheet on a clothesline on a breezy day. “It looks thicker than before,” he told the others, his voice partly drowned out by a hard crack of thunder. “Far more substantial.” Energy sparked and spit as if the warding had been supercharged and was still plugged into some giant electrical outlet.

“That can’t be good,” Vhyper muttered.

As Wulfe neared that shimmering curtain, the hair rose on his arms and his throat began to itch and crawl. The last time, he’d felt nothing. Maybe it was just a factor of his having lost his animal. And, shit, that could be a problem because last time, they’d only gotten through it in their animals. He’d hoped his Daemon blood would allow him to breach it this time, and hand his friends through, even if he couldn’t shift. If not, they were in deep shit.

They were probably in trouble either way. Neither Inir nor Satanan were fools. They knew the Ferals would be back to try to stop them. It only stood to reason they’d have beefed up the warding to keep them out this time.

There was only one way to find out.

Small pellets of hail joined the rain, stinging Wulfe’s bare arms as he pressed forward cautiously, stopping a foot in front of the warding to reach out his hand. Electricity bolted through his body, knocking him back with a powerful blow, setting every nerve ending on fire. With a roar of pain and fury, he landed on his rear in the wet grass.

“Wulfe!” Lyon yelled.

“Stay back!” Wulfe pushed himself to his feet with effort, the jolt still searing the blood in his veins. He wiped the rain from his eyes and stumbled back to the others. “It’s far stronger than before.”

But Lyon was used to giving orders not taking them, and strode forward to try the warding for himself. A moment later, he, too, was picking himself up off the ground.

As Lyon rose, they all stared at one another, an unspoken,
What the fuck do we do now?
hanging in the rain-soaked air.

Dammit,
Wulfe thought, staring at that colorful barrier. He knew what had to be done. And he was the only one who could do it. He could almost see Inir’s eyes lighting with evil glee at the prospect. Inir would know, of course, that if Wulfe pulled the energies through his channel key, he’d almost certainly be able to crash through the warding. But he’d know, too . . . or Satanan would . . . that no Daemon had ever retained control after pulling that power. The two of them were counting on Wulfe’s losing it. Inir had already said it.
The Daemon shifter will come to us, my lord. I promise you. And when he does, he will be yours.

He heard Natalie’s words again.
You are the finest man I’ve ever known. Just as you’ll protect me, I’ll protect you. I won’t let the darkness take you.

Wulfe turned to Kougar, his gut cramping. “Have the Ilinas bring Natalie. I’m pulling the primal energies. It’s the only way to get through.”

His brothers exchanged wary looks, but Lyon nodded. “We’re out of options. Satanan cannot rise.”

“You can do this, Wulfe,” Paenther said. “There’s no better man.”

He wasn’t sure about that, but somehow, he had to pull this off. Every one of them was counting on him. Natalie most of all.

Wulfe began to run back the way they’d come, back to the drop-off site, knowing the Ilinas couldn’t risk getting too close to the warding. Minutes later, Natalie was in his arms, rain-soaked, warm, and loving.

“I believe in you, shifter.”

He stared into those calm, beloved eyes beneath lashes spiked with rain, and nodded. “I know. You’re going to keep me tethered.” But his heart was pounding with uncertainty and dread. He pulled Natalie tight against his chest, holding her against the buffeting wind as his gaze watched the storm play out on the now-churning lake.

Goddess, please protect this woman who is my heart, my life, against all dangers, including me. Help me stay strong against the darkness, so that I don’t hurt her. And please help us defeat Satanan and Inir. I ask this not out of pride, but because so many will suffer if we fail. I beg you to forgive my errors in the past. I beg you . . .

Without warning, the sun broke through the storm clouds, a single, thick sunbeam illuminating the nearby landscape. And in that sunbeam, a rainbow appeared, running from one end of the sky to the other, a perfect, glorious rainbow beneath still stormy skies. Beauty within the darkness. A miracle.
Forgiveness.
He felt it shower him, felt his heart cleansed and lifted, buoyed with joy over this omen, this blessing.

Thank you, Goddess.

He kissed Natalie’s hair, hugging her tight, and blinked back the moisture in his eyes. “Are you ready?”

With a nod, she pulled back and kissed him. “I’m ready. We can do this.”

He wasn’t convinced, but they were out of options.

He could not fail.

A
s the rain pounded, Natalie ran over the wet ground, Wulfe’s hand tight around hers.

“The warding is just up ahead,” he told her. “Only I can see it.”

All Natalie saw was grass, trees, mountains, and rain. Mostly rain. Wulfe finally came to a stop and pulled her close. Within his hold, she felt his tension and knew how much he dreaded this.

A chill shivered through her, her own muscles tensing. Despite all the times she’d urged him to do what he had to, now that he intended to call that power through her, she was scared. If the little bit of energy Satanan had pulled had hurt so badly, how much more would this? Most of all, she worried about Wulfe.

She would keep him tethered. She had to.

As his hand pressed against her rain-chilled cheek, pain sliced through his gentle eyes.

Natalie covered his hand. “I love you, and I’m not letting you go. Fair warning.”

He smiled faintly and said nothing, his jaw tight. “It’s not working,” he muttered.

“Do you have to chant?”

“Not for this, no. Strome said I had to reverse what I did the first time. I healed you by calling your wound to me.”

“Was it easy?”

“No. I can only heal a human’s wounds if I want to badly enough.”

“How badly did you want mine?”

“Fiercely.” He blinked against the rain.

“You have to want to give it back to me just as much.” She gripped his hand where it covered her cheek. “Wulfe, I
want
that wound back. I’ve always known I had some purpose, that I was chosen for this life because I was needed here. I believed, until now, that my purpose was to help people see better and to ensure the children can read. But I was wrong. I’m here because you need me. As your channel key. Perhaps as more. This is what I was born to do.”

“Natalie . . .”

“Just as I believe that you were born for this, too. You were born who you are, what you are, because at this critical moment in time, only a Daemon-wolf could possibly stand against a consciousness as powerful as Satanan’s. This is your destiny, Wulfe. Claim it. Let us both claim ours.”

His gaze bore into hers, searching, finding. His big body sighed, the tension easing out of his shoulders as his spine straightened, as his shoulders fell back. Acceptance entered his eyes though the worry remained.

With a tight nod, he shifted his hand on her cheek, holding the back of her head gently with his other. “You’re right.”