What I want doesnt matter. Even her soft voice, rich with a regret he didnt believe, held a musical lilt that stroked his senses. Im sorry to have brought you here.
Then let me go.
I cant. She came toward him, stopping at the foot of the stone platform where he was chained. To his consternation, she watched him, her gaze sliding over his flesh. His body rose, hardening, as if her hands and not her gaze caressed him.
The faint scent of her arousal stole across his senses, tripping a wild rage inside him. How many times had Ancreta forced him to rise for her, then impaled herself on his unwilling body before beginning the torture of trying to free him from his animal?
Placing her palms on the waist-high rock, the witch pulled herself up and knelt between his legs with a swish of soft cotton.
Paenther went feral, that place halfway between man and beast where his fangs erupted, his claws unsheathed, and his black eyes turned the glowing green of a jungle cats.
You touch me, you die.
The witch laced her fingers together in her lap tight enough to turn her knuckles white. The sympathy and remorse in her blue eyes almost seemed real. Ive been where you are. I wouldnt wish it on my worst enemy. She leaned forward, her voice strong and low, and laced with steel. I know you dont believe me, but you arent my enemy.
You are mine, he bit out.
She sighed. I know. Sitting back on her heels, she loosened the knot of her hands. Im sorry. I have to touch you, but I wont touch you there. Her gaze caressed his shaft. Not unless you want me to.
Ill kill you first.
With a single nod, she splayed her cool palms lightly across his bare thighs. With that simple touch, sensation rippled across his flesh, a heady, electric heat that sent the blood surging through his veins. He fought the desire that blasted him, clawing to hang on to the icy control that had molded his life, but his mind betrayed him as thoroughly as his body. All he could think of was the way her silken thighs had felt beneath his hands as hed spread her in the woods, as hed entered her.
The scent of violets washed over him. The sight of her mouth, ripe and unsmiling in that delicate face, reminded him of the taste of her kiss, like clear, sweet raindrops. Even knowing what she was, even knowing shed lured him into her trap with a sirens song of lust, he couldnt stop wanting her.
Her palms slid along the tops of his thighs, across his flesh as if he were an animal to be petted. It was all he could do not to purr. Without his consciously willing it, his fangs and claws retracted.
You hid your Mage eyes, he snarled instead.
Her mouth twisted in a wry, frustratingly engaging shadow of a smile. You wouldnt have come with me otherwise.
Paenther tried to growl, but the feel of her hands was doing things to him in parts of his body that had nothing to do with sex. Almost as if she were soothing the rage burned into his soul by Ancreta all those years ago.
Youre beautiful, she murmured. Your skin is warm as the sun. Your hair like black silk. Her words flowed over him, as irritatingly pleasing as her touch. The animal inside you purrs.
Paenther froze. Dammit, he hadnt even triedClosing his eyes against her, he called on the magic deep inside him and tried to shift, praying his panthers paws would be able to slide free of his shackles.
Nothing happened.
As he opened his eyes, the witchs copper blue gaze met his. The manacles steal your power, warrior. You cant shift as long as you wear them.
How long have you known I was a Feral?
I knew the first time I saw you. I felt the animal inside you. Just now, I felt you call to the power he gives you.
He scowled. You couldnt possibly have felt that.
She watched him with those eyes as deep as the oceans, but said nothing.
Witch.
His body went rigid as a thought occurred to him. He hadnt been alone. What if Foxx had been captured, too? He forced himself to look into the sirens face, guarding himself against the tug of her beauty, steeling himself for her answer.
How many of us did you catch?
Just you, warrior. Your companion got away.
He stared at her, wanting to feel relieved yet not trusting her at all. Still, maybe Foxx had escaped. He would call Lyon, and theyd initiate a rescue. He hated the thought of his unbridled lust putting his brothers in danger; but knowing the others would come, that he wasnt doomed to spend the rest of his life here, helped calm his storm-tossed mind.
His thoughts evaporated as the witch leaned over him, her dark, sleek head dipping toward his body as if she intended to take him in her mouth.
The growl that erupted from his throat was that of an animal, dark with warning, even as part of him longed for the feel of her wet tongue stroking his length. But her lips landed well to the right of his heavy erection, brushing a light, damp kiss on his hip bone.
Paenther sucked in a hard breath, sweat beading at his temples. Even that small brush of her lips sent heat rushing through his body. His arms shook as they strained against their bonds, his driving need shifting from retribution to pulling her on top of him and burying himself in her heat.
How could he want her so badly when he hated her so violently? She was a fire in his blood. A need raging out of control.
The heady musk of her arousal thickened in the air, and he knew he wasnt the only one feeling the desire. She lifted her gaze, heat a living thing in her eyes. The woman was a potent, dangerous blend of false innocence and a sirens temptation. His body burned to possess her again.
She bent down, her mouth trailing soft, damp kisses along his hip to his thigh, her lips inches from the base of his hard, throbbing shaft. He wanted her to touch him, to take him into her mouth with a need bordering on desperation. But he would never admit it. Never.
What is she doing to me?
A flash of dark light near the ceiling jerked his thoughts from the pleasure arcing through his body. He frowned at the dark, pulsing sphere that clearly wasnt a lightwick. His eyes narrowed with recognition. A power orb. Scanning the ceiling, he saw others nestled high against the ceiling, pulsing with light, throbbing to the beat of his pounding heart. As if they were somehow feeding off him.
Or feeding off the passion riding him.
Youre collecting power, he accused.
She looked up, her lids heavy, her lips damp. Sexy as hell. Thats the reason youre here.
He stared at her, unsure if her words relieved him or infuriated him more. His only purpose for being here was to fill those orbs with his lust? To be chained and petted by a beauty of a witch until he was out of his mind with wanting?
No way in hell. He knew the Mage too well to believe for a single moment the answer was that simple.
What are you going to do with the energy once the orbs are filled?
She raised up and sat back on her heels, shrugging delicately even as her chest rose and fell on rapid, shallow breaths. I dont know. Its for Birik. All I know is that if we dont raise enoughhe wont be pleased. Her gaze rose to the ceiling, as if studying the orbs and measuring the results of her play. Its not enough.
As one soft hand moved back to his thigh, she reached up and covered her breast, squeezing the small mound through her dress. She gasped, her back arching as her head tilted back. His cock jerked with a hunger of its own.
The scent of desire swirled around him. Heat rushed through his blood, pooling in that one part of his anatomy until he was thick and throbbing and nearly out of his head with needing her.
He struggled to turn his mind elsewhere. Whos Birik? Even his voice strained against the driving desire to feel her tight around him.
Slowly, she released her breast and lifted her hand off his thigh to rake both sets of fingers through her short hair. With a shuddering breath she said, Hes the archsorcerer in charge of this stronghold and ruler of all who reside here. He reports to the Elemental himself.
And he wants the power from these orbs?
Yes.
Power from passion. Hed never heard of dark power raised in such a way, but he knew little about Mage orbs. Less still about the use to which they might try to put that energy.
What if they were making some kind of weapon to use against the Ferals? The thought made him ill. What if hed somehow become the instrument of the destruction of his brothers?
Goddess, he couldnt live with this. He couldnt let this happen.
She looked up at the ceiling again and sighed. Its enough.
With a last featherlight pat to his thigh, the beauty climbed off the stone and walked to the door with a natural, barefooted grace, leaving him hard and distended and throbbing.
Witch. Fury burned inside him. But as she disappeared out the portal, it took every ounce of control he possessed not to call her back.
CHAPTER 2
Skye fled the cell that served as her bedroom and hurried through the passages that twisted and turned through the rock following eons of water erosion. The open areas and passages of the cavern remained in their natural state, though Biriks extensive quarters and most of the bedchambers, kitchens, and ritual rooms had been transformed into comfortable living areas complete with furniture, carpeting, wallpaper, and more.
Only Skye lived in an unadorned cell within the rock, though she spent as little time there as possible. Most of her days she stayed outside in the woods, or wandering among the unused parts of the cave, where she headed now.
Low in her body, unrelieved passion made her throb and ache. Regret for her part in the capture of the beautiful shape-shifter ripped at her heart.
At last she reached the dagger fields, the raw, uncleared part of the caverns where the daggerlike stones, the stalagmites, rose from below as their counterparts hung from above. The air smelled of cool, damp limestone with the only trace of lightwick smoke from the single flame that floated behind her, lighting the darkness. Few Mage ever ventured this deep into the caves. It was here she came to think when she wasnt in the forest. Lowering herself to a small, dry patch of stone tucked into the curve of a low wall, she struggled to gather her wits, wits that had scattered to the winds with the first touch of the mans thighs beneath her palms.
Pulling her knees tight against her chest, she buried her face in her skirt and shook. Her body wanted, it needed what shed found with him in the woods earlier. That temporary, explosive quenching of the fire that had burned inside her from the first moment shed seen him in the Market two days ago.
Birik had warned her that shape-shifters would be coming. Hed sent her to watch for them, ordering her to choose one for her own. Nothing good would come of it for either her or the shifter, shed known that. But shed long ago quit fighting her fate and accepted that she could never thwart one of Biriks commands.
So shed done as directed and begun to haunt the small human Market, waiting for her prey. When hed first stepped into the store, shed felt the Earth come to a stop, as if the very air had caught its breath. Though shed pretended to be engrossed in the magazine in her hand, shed been excruciatingly aware of him with his huge, leather-clad body, his arresting face with the high, pronounced cheekbones and savage claw marks across his eye, and the feeling of fierce, tense control rolling off him in waves.
And when hed turned that dark gaze on her, her knees had gone weak even as shed been filled with a strange, shimmering joy. Shed felt herself smile even as her pulse had threatened to race away. It wasnt until after hed left the store that shed realized shed felt his animal. And realized what he was. That he was one of the very creatures Birik had sent her to capture. But by then it was too late.
At the realization, her heart had pounded as confusion clouded her mind. Deep inside, shed known he was hers. But taking him meant Birik would have him, too.
When hed returned the next day, hed walked straight to her, where shed waited at the corner of the building.
Shed been so overwhelmed by his wild, masculine presence and her own confusion, shed said nothing, merely backed around the corner, knowing hed follow. And he had. Hed stared at her with such hunger in his eyes. The animal inside him had leaped in greeting, rubbing itself warmly against her mind.
Walking into his arms had been the most natural thing shed ever done. The moment their mouths had touched, passion had exploded. All thought had flown from her head as shed drunk of his clean, wild taste, diving her fingers into his silken black hair. Time had ceased to exist, Birik and his demands all but forgotten.
Shed felt this wild need rising inside her. And hed known it. His hand had slid beneath her skirt, between her thighs. As one long finger burrowed deep inside her, shed felt a pleasure shed barely been able to credit. A pleasure so intense, shed wondered if she could die from it. And shed wanted him as shed never wanted another.
But Paenthers redheaded friend had come looking for him, and shed run.
That was yesterday. Today theyd finally mated, a joining shed never believed possible. Without pain. Without cruelty. And shed rewarded him for his tenderness by enthralling him, trapping him in a captivity from which hed never escape. Now he hated her, hated her, with a vehemence that tore tiny strips from her soul.
Pressing her back against the rock, she raked trembling fingers through her hair, aching with regret and bitterness. He was hers, all right. Her prisoner. Her enemy.
If only she could have saved him. But if shed sent him away, Birik would only have forced her to capture another. Birik always got his way. Always.
Shed had to choose a Feral.
And from the moment she saw him, shed known this Feral was the only man she would ever want.
Paenthers gaze remained fixed on the door as he waited for the witchs return. Part of him, the part that hated, never wanted to see her again. But another part of him hungered for the sight of her. For another whiff of her violet scent. And he both dreaded and craved another touch of her hands. Shed woven her spell of enchantment over him but good, there was no doubt about it.
She had yet to do anything more than touch him, but he knew the Mage. The pain would come. Hed escape this captivity more damaged than he had the last.
If he escaped at all.
His gaze slid to the ceiling, to one of the lightwicks floating high above his head. The first time he ever saw a lightwick was the day he met Vhyper. After his ill-fated attempt to rescue a beauty whod turned out to be Mage, hed woken in a musty, dark cellar, chained on his back as he was now.
That time, though, he hadnt been alone.
Welcome to Hell, my friend, Vhyper had said. His face had taken on a fierce, fervent look. We are going to get out of this together. Do not doubt it. Do not ever doubt it.
And he hadnt.
Paenther fisted his hands as his gaze moved from the lightwicks to the stalactites and back again. Vhypers words that day, repeated nearly every day of his captivity, had kept him focused through months of torture of the worst kind. Theyd kept him sane.
Now he made a similar, silent promise to his friend. I wont give up until I find you, Vhype. Until I save you as you saved me. Dont ever doubt it.
But, dammit, he had to get free if he was ever going to be of any use to either one of them.
At the sound of footsteps outside the room, steps too heavy to be the witchs, Paenther turned his head to face the entrance.
And came face-to-face with Vhyper.
His friend walked casually through the door, looking the same as he always did, his sleek head gleaming beneath the lightwicks, a single earring in the shape of a snake dangling from the lobe of his right ear. He was dressed in his usual attire of open leather vest over a bare, broad chest, the golden Feral armband curled around his arm.
Paenthers heart lurched with triumphant relief, then plummeted to his stomach as he stared into Vhypers eyes. Those dark blue eyes that had always glimmered with humor and warmth, even in the direst of circumstances, lay cold. Flat.
Soulless.
The eyes of a stranger.
Paenther felt the loss like a physical blow. What have you done with my friend? He could only pray that the man he knew, the man hed trusted like no other, was still in there somewhere, trapped within the dark magic and not lost to him completely.
Well, well, if it isnt my old friend, B.P. I must say, youre looking a little underdressed. Vhyper sauntered over to him, his mouth lifting into a smile that held no humor. I knew youd come to rescue me. Catching you was easy as childs play.
Why are you here, Vhype? Paenther asked evenly. His emotions were always under tight restraint, caught with the rage he battled every minute of every day.
Vhyper shrugged. You know why.
Do I? All I know is Zaphene turned you against us. What did she do to you, Vhyper?
Vhyper tugged on his earring, his brows lowering. For a moment, Paenther thought he saw the old Vhyper walk through those eyes.
Truthfully, Im not sure it was the witchs doing. I think it happened the night we raised the spirit of the lion. I got bitten by that Daemon blade the same as the rest of you, but it changed me, B.P. His eyes narrowed in thought. It rid me of my conscience. Im not entirely sure it didnt steal my soul. Vhyper grinned suddenly, the coldness like frost over his eyes. A hell of a way to live.
Paenther stared at him, railing at the fates. Not Vhyper. You cant have Vhyper! He owed the snake his sanity. His life. Grinding his teeth together, Paenther fought back the tide of anger. The Ferals would come. He needed to learn all he could.
Are the Mage still trying to free Satanan and his Daemon horde?
Vhyper tugged at his earring. Of course.
Why? How can you help them unleash that evil?
Vhyper shrugged. And what is evil, B.P.? Is it evil for the owl to kill the mouse? He smiled coldly. Depends on your point of view, doesnt it? On whether youre the owlor the mouse.
Satanan will destroy this world.
Will he? Or will he simply feed from it? The Daemons were always at the top of the food chain.
Youre not a Daemon.
True. But Im not looking for power out of this. Again, his old friends eyes narrowed, something approaching confusion entering their dark blue depths. Its a compulsion, B.P., to free the evil.
The evils infected you, Vhype. Its controlling you. Fight it.
As quickly as the confusion had entered the shape-shifters eyes, it disappeared again. His grin turned malicious. Its not controlling me, Paenther. Nothing controls me now. Not even my conscience. He shrugged as if he were admitting a weakness for porn. I find Ive developed a taste for the misery of others.
Paenther shook his head. This wasnt the man he knew. Why am I here? His gaze flicked up to the pulsing orbs above his head. To raise power to fill those? Or something more?
Vhypers smile was cold. Depends on how much you raise. He lifted his hand and turned. Later, B.P.
Vhyper, wait. What about Foxx? He had to know if the witch had told him the truth. Not that he could trust anything Vhyper said, either.
The man glanced back. He got away. The witch wasnt interested in him and by the time the other Mage realized there were Ferals on the mountain, he was already gone. But the mountain has a magic all its own. If he started up the mountain at all, hed have been snared by the spell.
Dread curled in Paenthers gut. What spell?
An incantation to confuse. As soon as it took hold of him, he would have forgotten why he was there, forgotten all about you until hed driven a good long way away. By then, he wouldnt even remember where hed last seen you.
Vhyper laughed. Had you hoped for a proper Feral rescue? Not going to happen, B.P. Foxx wont be able to lead them back here. Youll never leave here alive.
As he stared at the man who used to be his friend, something real moved through Vhypers eyes, a glimmer of warmth. A hint of pain. A glimpse of the friend hed known for so many years.
It was there and gone in an instant, swallowed by the evil. But Paenthers pulse began to pound. He knew what hed seen. The Vhyper hed give his life for was still in there. Subjugated to the darkness, but not lost. Not completely.
Vhyper, fight it.
Theres nothing to fight, Paenther, he said coldly. Theres no one here who will help you. You have a role to play, just as we all do. Vhypers eyes began to glitter. Its going to be amazing, B.P. Things are going to happen you wont believe. And you wont want to miss. Youll have a front-row seat, old friend. Ill make sure of it.
Vhyper turned and walked out the door.
Vhyper! Paenther strained against his shackles, rattling his chains on the rock until his body was damp with sweat, and the coppery scent of his own blood coated his nostrils. Desperation, fierce and terrible, vibrated through his body as he fought to free himself with every ounce of strength he possessed.
Foxx was safe, but unless both Vhyper and the witch had lied to him, he wouldnt be leading the others back here. Paenther was as lost as Vhyper unless he could somehow find a way to reach his friend beneath the cold eyes of the evil that had ensnared him. Unless he could find a way to free them both.
He remembered thinking, after the witch Zaphene infiltrated Feral House, turning Vhyper, that things couldnt get much worse. He hadnt had a clue.
Now he was caught in trouble as deep as the blue of the eyes that had ensnared him. And he had a bad feeling this trouble had only begun.
CHAPTER 3
Skye rose from her private sanctuary in the dagger fields and brushed off her soft knit dress, her pulse finally back to normalor as close to normal as it was likely to get with the Feral strapped to her bed. She had to get back to him. As much as she dreaded facing those hate-filled black eyes, she needed to make certain all her creatures were okaythe ones who walked on four feet and the very large, very masculine shape-shifter who at present walked on two.
Her stomach clenched. Midnight was not far away.
She retraced her path, dodging puddles and dripping stone, the rock cool beneath her bare feet. In the distance she heard the sounds of voices as the sorcerers prepared the evening rituals and the women of the cavern readied the evening meal. At one time, she would have helped them. But not anymore. She was no longer one of them.
She alone still possessed a soul.
Her stomach growled. It had been two days since shed last eaten. But as she turned a corner in the rock and spied Birik talking to one of his sentinels, her appetite fled.
Birik was striking in his way, with his fawn-colored skin, long white hair, and cruel green eyes, his body as lean and quick as the thorn whip hed used on her as a child. Curled around his neck and draped over one shoulder was a large black rat snake. Two gray-and-copper corn snakes slithered around his feet.
She didnt mind the snakes. She was drawn to all creatures. But the man was another matter. If she could do anything to avoid him, she would, but there was no other way back to her room from here. So she averted her gaze as she approached where he stood, seeking to avoid his notice as she always did. But as she tried to pass, stepping around his snakes, he grabbed her arm, his cruel fingers digging into her flesh and pulling her to a stop.
Fear shivered up her spine.
Birik released her only to lift those thin, brutish fingers to her cheek, making her swallow hard. The brush of his fingers was unnaturally gentle, doing nothing to quell the speeding of her pulse. His gentleness always scared her more than his casual cruelty. Skye held perfectly still, knowing better than to let him see her fear.
You did well, enchantress. His eyes glittered with excitement. The power was more than Id hoped for, and youve yet to ride him.
She didnt ask how he knew she hadnt mated with the Feral since bringing him into the cavern. Birik always knew more than he should. Hes not ready to be mounted.
Birik laughed. Hes male, and clearly drawn to you. A few strokes of your hand or tongue, and I guarantee hell be ready.
Skye swallowed again, nodding. There was no use arguing. Birik neither understood nor cared that the Ferals hatred of his captivity and his captor made him fight the attraction, or that shed succeed far better if the man, like any creature in captivity, were given a few days to calm to her touch.
The Mage whod been her master, teacher, and tormentor since she was eight grabbed her jaw, squeezing until she thought he might break the bones in her face, hurting her until the tears she struggled to hold back clouded her vision.
Dont fail me, Skye. You wont like the consequences.
Apprehension fluttered in her stomach. She knew the consequences all too well. I wont fail you.
The moment Birik released her, she hurried past him, descending the ancient stairs carved into the rock as she fled to the relative safety of the prison cell that had become her bedroom when she was eight. Shed fought Birik back then. Bitterly. Hed taken everything from her, all comfort, all warmth. And when that still hadnt forced her compliance, hed hurt her, terribly, over and over and over again until hed finally broken her will.
Giving up hadnt been easy. It had never been in her nature to acquiesce. But the pain had become more than she could stand. And shed finally understood there was nothing more that she could do but accept her fate.
As she neared the door to her chamber, she thought of the beautiful man trapped inside. And what she had to do. Her fist pressed against the harsh ache of guilt lodged beneath her breastbone. She wasnt the only one who suffered because of Biriks control over her. If she wanted to keep the Feral alive, she had little choice but to make him suffer more.
She reached her room to find him as shed left him, chained and furious. A man chained and naked as he was should look helpless. But dark, angry eyes speared her as danger rolled off him, filling the very air of the room. He was the most powerful, most unsettling, male shed ever encountered. Just being in the same room with him sent her pulse pounding in a way that had only a little to do with fear.
A thrill of energy rolled across her skin, drawing her eyes to the orbs. Birik had drained them while she was gone, yet already they were beginning to glow again. Lust shimmered in the air. Hers, certainly.
Did he feel it, too? There was so much fury in his eyes, it was difficult to say. But then her gaze traveled the length of his hard, muscular body, coming to rest on the arousal standing straight up from his groin, long and thick and rigid.
Oh, he felt it, all right. And wasnt the least bit happy about it.
Free me, the man growled between clenched teeth as he watched her with a predators stillness.
Skye went to where the animals awaited, greeting them silently as they greeted her, running her hands down the neck of the doe and bending to let the sweet creature nuzzle her cheek as Faithful always did. Sharp grief pierced her heart at the thought of this deers future.
If I could free you, I would. Shed free them all, herself included. But freedom from Birik was impossible. Shed tried. Over and over shed tried until Birik made certain she would never try again.
With a last stroke of the does soft coat, she crossed back and closed the steel door to the room, a door Birik had installed years ago to keep her in. She rarely bothered to close it anymore. It had never kept anyone out. But she closed it now, needing no audience for what she must do.
With a deep breath that did little to calm her, she moved slowly toward the cold slab of rock that had acted as her bed for so many years. The Ferals black eyes watched her every step of the way. As she drew near, she couldnt find the courage to meet the anger in his eyes and looked away, letting her gaze wander over his powerful male body instead. He was truly magnificent. Mage males tended toward slim physiques and few overt muscles. Not so the Ferals.
This one in particular was a sight to behold. His skin was a beautiful shade of bronze, his chest broad and muscular, adorned with a thick, intriguing tattooan intricate interweaving of curves and lines. Around one of the thickly muscled arms chained above his head curved a golden armband. At one end, the head of a panther stared out at her, its eyes twinkling with emeralds. She knew the armband could not be removed except by the wearer himself.