He gripped her wrists harder than necessary. Just the touch of his flesh on hers had desire flowing through him, raw and hot. Goddess, what she did to him. She turned her head, and it was all he could do not to press his mouth against the long, silken length of her neck. To lick, to nibble.
With a growl of deep frustration, he finished tying her and stepped out of the cell, allowing the Shaman to take his place. The Shaman watched her with all the warmth one might reserve for a hissing cobra. Repugnance darkened his eyes as he circled the witch, chanting the binding spell.
Skye looked down at her bare feet.
Sympathy rose from some misbegotten place inside him. So what if everyone loathed her? She was Mage. He would not feel sorry for a witch.
The Shaman stopped abruptly. You havent removed her cantric.
I couldnt find it. She says its buried in her heart.
Thats impossible. He motioned Paenther to him with a quick tilt of his head. Hold her for me while I check.
Skyes gaze snapped up to his, her eyes sharp and wary.
He knew what she was thinking. The Shaman doesnt have to use a knife to find your cantric, witch. Calm down. Moving behind her, he took hold of those slender shoulders, feeling a strength in her bones that he wouldnt have expected. Maybe she wasnt quite as delicate as she looked.
His mind played with him, reminding him of the inviting appeal of those shoulders when theyd been bare a short while ago. Would the skin taste as sweet as her kisses? He imagined pulling her dress aside, baring one shoulder for his mouth.
With a growl, he fought back his bodys obsession with this woman.
The Shaman, only as tall as Skye, stood in front of her and ran his hands in front of her chest, an inch from her dress. Slowly, his hands stilled, the one coming to rest directly over her heart. The Shaman closed his eyes as if hearing a tune that played only in his head.
Its in her heart, as she says. Youll not remove the cantric without taking the heart.
Killing her. How did she ever survive its placement in the first place?
I imagine she was a child.
Paenther nodded, remembering what Skye had told him. She was eight. Eight. That bastard Mage had cut open an eight-year-old little girl to insert a copper ring in her heart. He could have killed her.
The Shaman nodded. That would explain it. Magic has unpredictable consequences in children. In this case, she apparently survived what an adult would not. The heart grew around the cantric. He resumed his chanting. Two more circles around her and he moved out of the cell. Shes bound, but He shook his head. I cant guarantee shes no longer dangerous. Be careful, warrior.
Oh, she was dangerous, all right. All he had to do was get near her, and he wanted her. Hell, all he had to do was think of her.
He took hold of her upper arm and steered her out of the cell.
As he did, she looked up at him. I cant hurt you. I dont have that kind of power. And I wouldnt hurt you if I could. Her words were as intense as her eyes, spinning a dangerous web around his mind, trying to soften his resolve against her.
Why should I believe anything you say?
Because its the truth.
And what was the truth? Who was she? A dangerous enemy? A victimized innocent? Or perhaps just enough of both to throw him off his guard and doom the Feral Warriors and their mission once and for all.
With deep trepidation, Skye followed Paenther through the foyer from the basement, trying to take her mind off the impending interrogation.
The painted wood floor was cool and smooth beneath her bare feet. She barely remembered the feel of shoes, it had been so long since shed worn any. Birik had never provided anything but the basics for herdresses and a minimal amount of food. In the days before Inir came, back when she was young and still had friends, theyd tried to slip her treatsa doll, a small necklace, a pretty pair of pantiesbut Birik invariably discovered the gifts and destroyed them.
Paenther steered her down the hall. Her pulse began to race. A bead of perspiration slid between her breasts. Even before they reached the room where the Ferals waited, she heard the deep rumblings of male voices and felt the stirrings of the animals inside them. Mostly large animals, jungle cats and canines, along with a single bird of prey.
Paenther ushered her into a large, wood-paneled room dominated by a huge oval table and the men themselvesmore than half a dozen huge males. With them was the woman shed seen in the foyer. Kara. All eyes turned her way, a mix of curiosity and animosity in every pair.
The animals leaped to greet her, then one by one began to growl and hiss, mimicking the hostility of the men in which they resided.
Three of the big men strode forward, watching her with wary eyes but looking at Paenther with deep, heartfelt relief.
A sharp-faced man with arched brows grasped Paenthers arm with both of his.
Hawke, Paenther murmured.
You had us worried, buddy. He held Paenthers forearm for a long moment. Glad you got away.
Me, too.
As Hawke stepped back, a second man, the largest in the room, grabbed his arm.
Wulfe.
Welcome back, B.P.
The third man, Skye had seen before. A young man with a shock of unkempt red hair. Foxx. Hed been with Paenther each time shed seen him at the Market, before shed captured him.
Paenther gripped the young mans forearm, then released her to clasp his shoulder. Im glad youre okay, Cub. But thats the last time Im listening to those instincts of yours.
The younger man groaned. I guess she didnt turn out to be so good for you after all.
You could say that.
Have a seat, Lyon barked.
Paenther seated Skye on an empty chair at the near end of the table. With her hands tied, she didnt have the luxury of leaning back as the others did. But she wouldnt have been able to relax anyway. Not in this room, with the men throwing hostile looks her way every few moments.
Lyon, sitting at the head of the table at the far end, vibrated with tension. He turned to the Shaman, who had followed them in. Is there any possibility that Paenther is still enthralled?
Theres always the possibility. I feel no evidence of enthrallment, but he still wears the shackles. I cant say for certain what theyre doing to him. The witch may be using them to control him in some way.
Lyons intense gaze swung to Paenther. What happened, B.P.? And what do we have to do to end this threat once and for all?
As Paenther filled them in on the capture, Vhyper, and the Daemons, Skye watched him, glad for the opportunity to turn away from the unfriendly eyes in the room and drink her fill of the man at her side.
Paenther commanded a power unrivaled by any man in the room, with the possible exception of the chief himself. A power she felt every time he came near her. A power that lit fires in her blood.
As he talked, turning from his chief to the other men and back again, his black hair swung about his shoulders, and the scars across his eye rippled and moved. His was a face of incredible beauty and depth, exotic with its high, pronounced cheekbones, yet ruggedly, vibrantly handsome.
Anger tightened his voice as he spoke, yet the panther spirit inside him rubbed against her mind, like a tame cat might her ankles, as if wholly unaware that much of his anger was directed at her. Paenther seemed to be the only one of the Ferals whose emotion toward her was not in tune with his animals.
She felt as if she had a friend in the room. Unfortunately, that panther spirit could never help her if the otherseven the man he shared a body withturned against her.
Witch, Lyon snapped, jerking her gaze to the other end of the table. What are Biriks plans?
Skye sat straighter, feeling all eyes turn on her. Birik doesnt tell me his plans. All I know is he craves power. The kind my gift provides him. I heard the same thing Paenther did, that Birik wants more Daemons. An entire army. And he intends to use us to get it. Even if he doesnt get Paenther, hell find a way to use my power to free more of those things. She met the Chief of the Ferals gaze, her fingers curling into her fists until her nails bit into the flesh of her palms. You cant let that happen. You can never give me back to him.
Lyon eyed her, his eyes narrowing as if he didnt believe her.
She tried to make him understand. I was as much a prisoner of that place as Paenther was. I dont ever want to go back. But its not what I want that matters. All that matters is that Birik not succeed. She stared at the Chief of the Ferals, willing him to know the truth of her words. You must never allow him access to my power again. Though she couldnt bring herself to say the words out loud, the thought was clear in her eyes. If you have to, destroy me first.
The room was silent. Beside her, she felt the tug of Paenthers strong presence and turned to find him watching her with dark, unfathomable eyes as if he couldnt quite figure her out. Sometimes she almost felt like he believed her. Like he saw the truth.
Almost.
Two people slipped into the room, the couple from the car, hand in hand, looking both well pleased and sheepish.
Sorry, Tighe said. We got a little carried away.
Lyon nodded, then turned back to Skye. How many Mage in the cavern?
Twenty-seven including me.
How many ways in and out?
Three. Two main passages and a little-used back passage, which was the one I led Paenther through to escape. But I dont know if you can get through the warding on the mountain to reach the cavern. I know its impossible for humans to breach.
Shes fucking with my animal again, Jag snarled, his brows low and menacing as he rose from his chair and started toward her.
Skye tensed.
Jag Lyon warned.
Paenther stood, putting himself between her and the angry warrior. She cant help it. Animals are drawn to her.
Jag scowled. Mines not drawn to her. Its getting itchy. Annoyed. And so am I.
Sit down, Jag, Lyon said. Weve got to understand whats going on before we deal with the witch.
His words did nothing to calm Skye.
And little enough to calm the angry Feral. Jag scowled. He didnt reach for her, but neither did he return to his seat. Instead, he paced like a caged animal, ready to bite off the first hand thrust into his cage.
Paenther remained standing at her back.
How did the Mage regain their ancient magic? Lyon demanded of her.
They didnt.
Do you think were fools? The Chief of the Ferals voice was deceptively soft.
No, I think you may be the only ones standing between the world and true evil. The Mage havent regained their ancient magic. Theyve acquired dark magic.
Lyons gaze narrowed, but in question now rather than hostility. Explain.
Skye clasped her hands, knitting her fingers together behind her. I dont know the entire story, but Ive heard rumors that the Elemental, Inir, was infected by dark spirit years ago. He was only a sentinel at the time, but within a few months he rose through the ranks to become the high leader. I do knowhe changes people. I think he changed Birik a long time ago. Before he claimed me. I saw the changes myself when Inir came to the cavern years ago.
How many years?
Im not sure. Id reached my full height, but not my maturity. It was probably eight or nine years after Id arrived there. Thirty or so years ago. He did something to the Mage. I think he stole their souls. They serve the purpose of the High Daemon now.
The room went deathly silent. Growls slowly erupted.
Satanan hasnt risen, Lyon said.
No. Skye shook her head. Inirs intent is to free him.
The Shaman nodded, leaning forward. Dark spirit always seeks to free evil. Some believe the dark spirit left in the world is part of Satanan himself, tiny bits of his consciousness left behind when he was imprisoned.
Lyons eyes narrowed as he stared at Skye. So you have no soul? The cords in Lyons neck were beginning to stand out.
Skyes pulse ratcheted up another notch. I alone was left untouched by Inirs sorcerers. Birik feared Id lose my ability to call the animals if they changed me. He feared hed lose the source of my power.
Yet youre able to hide your Mage eyes, Paenther said behind her. Thats a magic Mage havent had in millennia.
She turned and looked up, meeting his piercing black gaze. Birik gave me that ability in the form of a short-term spell to enable me to capture you. I can no longer hide them.
Our first target is Birik and the cavern stronghold.
Skye turned back to the table as Lyon addressed his men. I want Vhyper and the blade out of there, and those Daemons destroyed. Lyon looked at the Shaman. Whats it going to take to free Paenther from the shackles?
I dont know.
Work on it. I need him. Lyon turned back to the table. But we cant wait. Kougar, Wulfe, and Hawke, youll leave for the Blue Ridge immediately. Once youve located the cavern, well regroup and move on it, full strength.
Foxx leaned forward, his face eager. And me. Let me go, Lyon. Ive already been out there. Ill recognize the area.
You remembered shit, Cub, Jag said. Or have you forgotten?
Lyon? Foxx persisted.
The Chief of the Ferals shook his head. You stay here, Foxx. You were touched by magic once out there, Im not sending you again. He turned to Hawke. Go. I dont know what shes doing to our animals, but I feel it, too. The sooner youre out of here, the better. Foxx and Paenther can fill you in further over the phone.
Hawke nodded as all three men rose and left.
Skye watched them go, wondering why the animals were becoming so agitated. And there was no denying they were. All but Paenthers. Why? She was doing nothing to antagonize the Ferals themselves and certainly nothing to harm their animals. Why would they be getting more and more angry?
Jag began snarling, glaring at her.
You take your life in your hands, witch, Lyon warned.
I dont know what Im doing. She was beginning to shake. Its not on purpose.
Jag started around the table toward her again. Paenther moved to block his access to her, but Jag didnt back off this time. Instead, fangs sprouted in his mouth, claws erupted from his fingertips, and his eyes turned the color of a jungle cats.
Paenther tensed, his arms opening at his sides as if preparing for a fight. Back off, Jag.
If you cant make her stop fucking with our animals, I will.
To Skyes horror, the terrifying creature Jag had become leaped at Paenther, his claws out. She ducked, fearing they were going to land right on top of her, but Paenther met the attack with one of his own. The two men, both part animal, tumbled to the ground, clawing and ripping at flesh in a tangle of teeth and claws and massive limbs.
Enough! Lyon roared.
The fight went on for about ten more seconds before the two bloody combatants rose to their feet and retracted their fangs, eyeing one another as if ready to go at it again.
Her heart pounded.
No one touches her but me, Paenther snarled.
Skye felt something warm and raw stir in her chest as she realized he was protecting her. From his own men.
Get her out of here, B.P., Lyon snapped. I dont know what the hell shes doing, but Im about to leap out of my own skin. Lock her up in the prison, then come back. We have some decisions to make.
Paenthers jaw clenched, drawing his cheekbones in high relief. Finally, he nodded once and turned to her, barely looking at her as he pulled her from her chair and steered her out of the room, retracing the path back to the prison.
What in the hell did you do to them? he asked tightly as he led her down the long stairs.
Nothing. I dont understand what happened. Animals always react to me, but its with friendliness, not anger. Your panther was the only one who didnt go nuts in there.
Paenther said nothing more as he led her back to the prison and locked her up. Then he turned and left without a backward glance as she watched his bloody and retreating back disappear into the passage.
Hed protected her. And, so far, he hadnt been able to bring himself to hurt her. There was goodness inside him. And honor. Shed thought it before, and she believed it even more, now.
But that didnt mean she was safe from him. As long as he was convinced she was his enemyand the strange reaction of the animal spirits to her wasnt doing much to convince him otherwiseshe was in deadly peril from the very strength she admired. Maybe, whether they meant to or not, the Mage and the Ferals couldnt help but harm one another. Even if harming these men was the last thing in the world she wanted to do.
She sat on the hard floor against the back wall, her hands still trapped uncomfortably behind her back. While she feared what the Ferals might ultimately decide to do with her, she feared Birik more. Because she knew what Birik would do.
And it was almost midnight.
CHAPTER 10
Paenther rejoined the group in the war room minutes later.
Were spread too thin. Im enlisting the aid of the Guard, Lyon said as Paenther took his seat.
Jag scoffed. The Guard is just a bunch of Therians. What in the hell can they do?
Lyon growled. Theyre damn fine fighters, just Therians or not. They wont be of much help in fighting the draden, but they can help in other ways. A small team is on its way over to discuss the situation as we speak.
Paenther half listened to the discussion, shaken by how violently hed reacted to Jags threat against Skye. It infuriated him. He should be clear of her magic, but she obviously still had her claws in him.
Lyon placed his hands palm down on the table and looked at Paenther. Until those shackles come off, youll be guarding Feral House. I dont want you leaving.
Great. Now Im essentially under house arrest. Yet he couldnt argue the point. Lyon was right.
Tighe and Foxx, you take first shift with the draden. Youll rotate with Jag.
Paenther looked at Lyon. Since when do we need three men guarding the house?
Since one of them brought a witch home and still wears the shackles to prove it. I wont compromise the safety of our Radiant, or the other women in this house.
He turned to the others. If thats it, were through.
When no one said anything more, they all rose.
Paenther scowled, hating the situation the Mage had put him in. Even his own chief couldnt trust him. Worse, he couldnt trust himself.
Kara came to him, her blue eyes warm and determined. Id like to give you a shot of radiance, Paenther. After all youve been through, I think you could use it.
Paenther inclined his head with deep respect and deeper affection for this petite woman with the heart of a lioness. Id be honored, Radiant.
Fuck. Jag grabbed the back of a chair.
Lyon and Tighe, too, seemed to be in some kind of pain.
Whats happening? Paenther demanded.
Your witch, Tighe said, through gritted teeth. I think the pain is hers.
Paenther leaped for the door and took the stairs to the underground chambers four at a time, running the rest of the way back to the prison. No sound reached his ears as he approached her cell, but as he came even with it and his gaze took in the sight of her, his chest seized, his mind going gray as a winter sky.
She lay on her back in a pool of blood, her arms still caught behind her, her back bowed in agony. Deep cuts marred her lovely face, neck, and hands. Scores of them.
Fury roared through his blood as he grabbed for the keys to her cell with shaking hands. As Lyon and the others raced in behind him, he whirled on his chief, his lip pulling back in a snarl. Ill kill the man who did this.
Lyon came to stand beside him as Paenther unlocked the door of the cell. Look at her legs, B.P.
Through a haze of rage, Paenther stared, uncomprehending. Cuts erupted along the lengths of her legs as if a ghost wielded an invisible blade. The bloodstains on her dress grew, encompassing her abdomen and hips, arms and thighs, though no cuts appeared in the fabric. They were coming from within her.
Whats doing this? he demanded, pulling the door open and rushing inside. As he knelt beside her, blood-caked lashes rose slowly, painfully. Whats happening, little witch?
She tried to speak, but her voice broke on a word, forcing Paenther to lean closer. Birik. Her face and body contorted, but her mouth fought to form the words. The moonritual.
The slaughter?
Yes, she gasped. My punishmentfor not Her mouth went still as a wicked cut slashed across it.
Paenther stared at her, at the slashes wreaking havoc on her flesh with quicker and quicker frequency. Her meaning slowly penetrated the furious fog encasing his brain.
Birik was punishing her for not performing the ritual. As if she had any choice when shed been stolen away.
That bastard.
The slashes were coming so fast that it was as if five men attacked her at once. The pool of her blood spread.
Her suffering tore at him. It shouldnt matter to him. She shouldnt matter to him. But she did.
How do we stop it, Skye?
Cant. It willstop. Her words told him clearly shed been through this before. How many times?
Her eyes rolled back, her body bowing against the agony. Yet she made no sound, suffering in silence until finally she collapsed into unconsciousness.
In his minds eye, he saw her again as shed lain in a heap on the floor of the cavern, bloodied and broken from Biriks attack. Hed kill him. If it was the last thing he did, hed kill that son of a bitch. Fury roared through his body, a fury born from the depths of his abhorrence for the abuse of innocents.
He stared down at her, at the beauty nearly obscured beneath the bloody cuts that crisscrossed her face. And he finally accepted what his gut had been telling him from the beginning. This witch was different. She was innocent of the cruelty and treachery hed suffered from Ancreta.
Innocent.
We may finally know the purpose of that cantric of hers, the Shaman said behind him.
Paenther glanced at him over his shoulder, taking in the small audience that had followed him down. What do you mean?
Ive been wondering why anyone would embed a cantric in a heart, and Ive come up with one reason. So the one in whom it was embedded cannot ever be free of it.
What are you saying?
I think its there to control her. Punishment, she called it. That Mage loaded spells into her cantric to punish her for doing the forbidden, or for failing to do the things he wanted her to do.
Like perform the moon ritual.
Then he put the cantric where she could never remove it.
Seems like a drastic measure, Tighe said.
I agree. The Shaman shook out the lace cuffs of his sleeves. It makes you wonder just how hard she fought him for him to resort to such a measure.
Was she a slave, then? Tighe asked. To her own people?
Paenthers hands fisted at his sides. To one person, I think. Birik. Goddess, he didnt know what she was. He didnt know anything anymore. Shed shown all the signs of a woman abused. But then during that nightmare of a ritual, shed seemed completely involved in the slaughter and the sex, taking him inside her against his will, and hed believed what Vhyper had told him, that it was all a ploy to gain his cooperation. But when he thought back on that night, he remembered how tight shed been even after Birik had attempted to ready her. Hed assumed that proved her interest in him had been faked. Now he was beginning to realize their mating had been as against her will as it had been his own.
Paenther looked down at the ravaged, delicate beauty as if seeing her clearly for the very first time. Eight years old. Shed fought Birik like a panther cub. Why?
But he knew. Shed fought him over the animals.
He looked up at Lyon. Shes an enchantress.
Whats an enchantress? Kara asked.
The Shaman answered. The enchantress is one of the truest of the nature spirits the Mage evolved from. There are few left. Ive seen them attract birds or butterflies. Occasionally bees. For this one to affect your animals is extraordinary.
What function did she perform for the Mage, B.P.? Lyon asked.
Im not sure. She called animals from the forest, five or six at a time. Birik sacrificed them, drenching her in their blood while sheperformeda ritual. It was through the power of that ritual that Birik was able to free three wraith Daemons from the blade.
The Shaman frowned. Sacrifices are used to call forth dark power. Killings like that would go against the very nature of a true enchantress.
Paenther nodded. Hence the punishments loaded into her cantric. It was suddenly so clear. And yet not clear at all. Just because she hadnt wanted to kill the animals she took from the forest didnt mean she held any love for the Ferals and Therians, the natural enemies of her people.
Why are our animals reacting to her like they are if she supposedly attracts creatures? Tighe asked.
The Shaman turned to him thoughtfully. Im not sure. They may simply be reacting to your own rampant distrust of what she is. Or they may sense something in her they dont like. Be very careful. Theres no telling what else has been loaded into that cantric. She could be a danger to you without ever meaning to be.
Lyon grunted. You think he could try to use her as a weapon.
Im saying anything is possible. Just be very careful.
Paenther looked up at the smaller man. Is there a way to clear the cantric of its magic?
Not as long as the one who wove the spells still lives.
He lives. For now.
When he was sure the cutting was done, Paenther pulled out a knife and cut the ropes off her wrists. Then he scooped her into his arms and stood.
Putting her in a different cell? Lyon asked.
No. Shes staying with me.
Lyons mouth tightened. You heard what the Shaman said. Just because shes fought Birik in the past doesnt mean shes not dangerous now.
I heard. But I owe her this.
How can you owe her anything? Shes a witch, B.P.
He met his chiefs gaze. I havent forgotten. But shes earned an open mind, and I intend to give it to her.
You can do it down here.
Paenther shook his head, turned and walked away. Logically, he knew Lyon was right. She was still potentially dangerous, whether or not she meant to be.
But the protectiveness hed been struggling with since the first time he saw her had gone into hyperdrive.
B.P.
See you in the morning, Roar.
As Paenther carried her into the showers off the gym, he accepted the probability of what his gut had been telling him for some time, now. That she wasnt his enemy. That she had never been his enemy. That she had, in fact, been every bit as much a captive of Birik as hed been. For so much longer.
Stepping into the open showers, he turned on one of the faucets. When the water ran warm, he tucked Skyes head against his shoulder and stepped under it, fully clothed. For a long time, he stood beneath the warm spray and held her, thinking of all the things shed told him, all the evidence of abuse hed seen. And the deep sadness that seemed to be etched into her eyes.
Yet not once had he seen her cower. And while she must have known Biriks fury would be terrible if she freed her Feral captive, shed done it anyway. He might have saved her from Biriks immediate retribution, but hed forced her to suffer another.
Her strength in the face of such violent mistreatment had made it possible for him to believe Vhypers assertion that shed been a willing and cunning participant in her own beating. Yet deep down, even then, his instincts had balked at the claim. There had always been something innocent about her. Something achingly vulnerable.
Now he thought he understood.
He laid her on the bench across from the shower and peeled her soaked dress off her body. His shocked gaze took in the sight of hundreds of fading cuts. Across her breasts and nipples, through her pubic hair and tracing like latticework across her stomach and thighs. How shed taken such pain without screaming, he didnt know. Had that been another of Biriks many lessons?
Shed been eight when that bastard implanted the cantric in her heart. Eight.
He stripped off his own torn clothes and scooped her back into his arms. Grabbing a bar of soap, he sat on the tile beneath the spray, his legs crossed in the style of his tribal ancestors, and gathered Skye onto his lap. Carefully and thoroughly, he washed the last traces of blood from her skin as the cuts slowly disappeared.