With a roar of fury, the two men attacked one another, tumbling onto the floor in a slash of claws and fangs, barely missing her feet. She stood frozen, staring at them, her mouth wide, chills racing down her spine in a continuous, icy flow. Tremors coursed through her limbs until her entire body was shaking.
They weren't human . She'd known they weren't human, but but.
Panic raked at her mind as one word, a single desperate cry, screamed through her head and finally found its way out of her mouth.
"Ly-on!"
CHAPTER 5
At the sound of Kara's scream, Lyon leaped from his desk chair and started running, As he turned the corner to the media room, he saw Jag and Paenther in a full-out feral battle, or as much of one as they could manage when they couldn't fully shift. They were tearing one another to shreds at the very feet of their brand-new, very human-minded Radiant, A Radiant who he'd intentionally not told they were shape-shifters.
Dammit to hell.
Well, she had a pretty good clue now and appeared none too happy about it if the look of raw terror on her face was anything to go by.
"Cease!" At his roar, the combatants tore apart and sprang to their feet, their gazes locked on one another for a long, heated moment, before slowly turning his way.
Blood striped the carpet and drenched what was left of their shredded clothes.
Lyon's gaze swung to Kara, taking in the unnatural paleness of her skin. Her wild-eyed gaze locked on his, and she flew at him. He barely had time to open his arms before she pressed herself against him.
"Everything okay?" Tighe asked, rushing into the room, Hawke close behind.
"Yeah." Lyon closed his arms around the quaking woman slowly, awkwardly, feeling both stunned and awed by her sudden lack of fear of him. By her trust. He was a man used to wariness in others, and he'd certainly instilled that in her well enough last night. Yet now she clung to him as if he were all that stood between her and certain death.
Thanks to his two warriors, who only now were beginning to sheathe their beasts.
He slid his hand beneath Kara's soft hair, pressing his palm to her bare neck to ease some of the panic pouring out of her.
Tighe met his gaze with a grimace. "I guess she got an eyeful." He shook his head with regret. "She saw Pink. I should have warned the bird"
"It's my fault. I put off an explanation that shouldn't have been delayed." He looked to Paenther. "The Pairing takes place in an hour."
Paenther nodded.
As Lyon peeled Kara away from him, she looked at him with eyes that, while no longer petrified, were still more wild than he would have liked.
"Come." He held out his hand, and she took it without hesitation and followed him from the room. His palm pressed against hers, calming her as he led her up the stairs. But while her fear, ebbed away, he sensed rage rushing in to fill the void.
The moment they reached her room, she jerked away from him and grabbed her suitcase. "I hate this place! I'm going home."
No. She wasn't. But he was wise enough not to voice that thought out loud. Not yet. Not until he'd had a chance to ease her anger. He crossed the floor and slid his hands on her tight shoulders, but she whirled out of his reach and faced him, her color high, blue eyes flashing.
"Stop it! Stop manipulating my emotions. I like feeling angry." But with each word, he felt her anger draining away. "I hate feeling afraid." Her hands rose and splayed over her skull, her gaze scattering like shot over the floor. "This place is driving me crazy."
Finally, her hands fell, and her gaze rose to spear him. "You neglected to tell me a few things."
"Yes." Avoided , was more like it. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you were ready for the whole story, but you shouldn't have had to find out that way."
"I think you'd better tell me everything now." Her voice was brittle, but no longer jagged with emotion.
Lyon nodded. He'd known he'd have to tell her sooner or later, though he'd been opting for later. "Why don't we sit down?" He needed to be able to reach her, touch her, if she became agitated. Yeah, right . He just wanted to be close enough to smell the sweet scent rising from her skin.
But Kara refused. "I don't want to sit."
Lyon settled himself on the upholstered chair by the window where he could watch her.
She met his gaze. "What are you? Werewolves or something?"
"Shape-shifters." He could almost see the wheels turning in her head.
"Just eyes and fangs? And claws?"
"No. The partial shift comes about when emotions run high. Usually negative emotions. We call the partial shift going feral . When we're in full power, we can also shift completely into our animals when we want to. That takes control, and is usually not done in the heat of anger."
She looked away, as if processing that. "Am I one? An animal?"
"No."
Her focus returned to him, her sweet mouth moving, her teeth playing with her lip. On a burst of air, she sank onto the chest at the foot of the bed. "You'd better tell me the rest, Lyon. I need to know."
She wanted the truth. Deserved the truth. And yet there were things-things about the rituals-she was not ready to hear. He'd tell her what he could.
"All right." He settled himself more comfortably and recited the brief version of their history he'd learned as a youth. "Eons ago, before the rise of human civilization, two immortal races battled the Daemons for control of the Earth. The Mage, or magic ones, and the Therians, the mighty shape-shifters. Though traditional enemies, the Mage and Therians banded together to overcome the High Daemon, Satanan, ending his reign of terror and destroying his armies."
Kara watched him, her blue eyes deep as the sea, her expression, for once, giving nothing away.
"The cost of victory was high," he continued, still reciting. "To win that ultimate battle, both races were forced to mortgage nearly all their power. Only one Therian among each of the ancient lines of shape-shifters was left with the power of his animal. They became known as the Feral Warriors. Today there are only nine of us left. Our job is to hunt the remnants of the Daemon empire, the draden, and to guard the blade that imprisons the High Daemon and his horde."
"So you don't attack people?"
Lyon felt his lips twitch. "No. We're not monsters."
"What about the draden? Do they attack people? Humans?"
"Rarely. They're mindless beings, pure predators who feed off Therian energy. They can feed off us just by being near us, though they'll attack if they get the chance. As long as we keep their numbers low, there's enough energy to go around. If their numbers grow too large, though, as they're in danger of doing now, they'll turn on humans. Humans give off such low levels of energy, a draden can only feed by stealing it all. Killing the person."
She stood and began pacing, her stride sure and graceful. "Where does the Radiant where do I come into all this?"
"It's through you that we access the Earth's energy that gives us the power to shape-shift and thrive."
Her gaze snapped to his. "How?"
"Initially, through the ritual that ascends you. After that, just by living," And making love with her mate.
An unwanted image blasted through his head, sending the blood rushing to his groin. Kara lying sprawled across the sheets, thighs wide and welcoming.
He didn't want to be her mate. Being chief already took up all his time. A woman would demand attention he didn't have time to give. He didn't want a mate. But damned if she didn't keep making him forget that.
Shifting uncomfortably, he leaned forward. "We need to be able to reach our animals, Kara. And we can only do that through your Ascension."
She stopped pacing and faced him. "I don't want to be your Radiant. Find another one, Lyon. Please. I'm not right for this. job. I don't belong here."
Her unhappiness wove a tight web of misery around them both. "You'll belong here soon enough. You just have to get used to us."
"It's not going to work."
"Kara you've been here less than a day."
"I know. It's just"
He rose and went to her, cupping his hands over her shoulders without trying to quell her emotions. Her scent rose to engulf him, filling him with a heady rush of pure lust. His hands tightened, and he had to struggle to keep from pulling her against him, to keep from covering her mouth in a kiss that would shatter them both.
She looked up at him, her blue eyes pools of confusion. "You don't understand, Lyon. I'm a preschool teacher. I'm not cut out for this job,".
"You're wrong, Kara. You're strong. As strong as any woman I've ever met."
She snorted in disbelief. "I'm not."
Lyon released her. "It doesn't matter, Kara. There's only one Radiant at a time. Only when one dies will the next be marked."
Understanding dawned slowly over her features, and her jaw dropped, her eyes going wide. "So I'm stuck here until I die? That isn't fair! Someone should have asked me if I wanted this job."
"Kara"
She waved her hand as if flicking away his words or her own. "Don't. Don't say it. I know it was a silly comment. It's justI don't like it here. I don't like this house. I don't feel safe here."
"There's nowhere safer for you. You just have to get used to what we are."
"What if I never do?" Fire leaped into her eyes. "I won't be a prisoner here for the rest of my life, Lyon. I won't."
Lyon cursed whatever fates had sent her mother west. Kara should have been raised Therian. How much easier this would have been on all of them.
"I'll make you a promise," he said, as she stood before him, hugging herself, watching him. "After your Ascension, if you want to leave, you can live among the humans as long as you stay in this area."
She wouldn't. He was sure of it. The Radiant was the one among them whose true mate, body, heart, and soul, was preordained. Chosen by the Earth. Once she found her mate, she'd never choose to go. But she didn't need to know that. Not now. The woman needed to think she had choices.
"How long until the Ascension?"
"As long as it takes to get you ready. Hopefully, no more than five or six days, though your lack of preparation may cause it to take longer. The first of the rituals will take place within the hour. We need to get started. You must be prepared."
He'd intended to have Pink do the preparation. No male should be expected to perform such a task, especially with a woman who stirred his senses like a spring thunderstorm. But after the debacle in the media room, and the earlier encounter with Pink, he knew she wasn't ready for close contact with the flamingo servant.
"Five days. Six, max," he said. Maybe longer. "Can you stick with us that long?"
Her breath left her on a snort. "Who are we kidding? We both know you're not going to let me leave."
Lyon felt one corner of his mouth lift as his admiration for her grew. Though her emotions at times got the better of her, she had a strong, clear mind.
"Let me ask it another way, then. Will you cooperate until we get you ascended?"
She lifted a single, dark gold brow. "That's the real question, isn't it?" The challenge in her gaze made him smile.
"That is the question."
As she watched him, the challenge slid from her features. "I'll cooperate if you promise to keep Jag as far from me as you can."
"Agreed. He'll be part of the rituals because he has to be. But if he comes near you again, I'll lock him in the prisons."
A flash of humor softened her features for only a moment before she dropped her hands at her sides and shook them as if preparing for a road race. "What do I need to do to get ready for this?"
He had to struggle not to laugh because he knew she was dead serious. She amused him and pleased him on new levels every time he was with her. Unfortunately, that did nothing to diminish the raging attraction he'd felt for her from the moment he saw her. An attraction that was going to test him to his limits in a few minutes.
The thought of what he had to do made him long for an ice-water bath.
"Kara usually a woman is prepared for this first ritual, the Pairing, by another woman from her line her family. But we don't know who your line is, and the only women in the house are Zaphene and Pink."
Kara's gaze snapped up, her eyes wide. "Pink? The bird?"
"Yes. The only ones who can prepare you for the ritual are one of them or me."
"You." The word came out of her mouth like a shot. "Please."
"You don't know what you're asking. The preparation requires you to be fully undressed."
Her jaw dropped, then closed with a snap as her eyes narrowed. "Just what kind of ritual is this?"
"It's not a mating, if that's what you're thinking. The purpose is to determine the onethe only one who can safely see you through your Ascension. Your biological match. There's magic in our world that humans can't reach and don't understand. Our rituals call forth that magic. You have to trust me. And we don't have much time."
"You want me to just get naked?"
Yes . No. He wouldn't survive such an assault on his senses. "Put a towel around you."
"Lyon"
He could see her uncertainty even as he could smell her blossoming arousal. The purpose of the preparation was to ready her body, cleansing and opening, so that when she entered the Feral Circle, her passion would rise to the surface of her skin. But the mere suggestion of baring her flesh to him had done the trick. What would happen when he touched her, as he must? Where he must?
Goddess give me the strength to carry this through.
"I have to rub drops of ritual oil into your body in seven key places."
"Where?"
"Get ready first. And put your hair up. I'll explain as we go."
When Kara retreated to the bathroom, Lyon pulled the ritual oil from the drawer where he knew Beatrice had stored it and removed the stopper. He took a whiff of the erotic substance and immediately wished he hadn't. There would be no slaking his own desire. No slaking hers. She must come to the ceremony with her passion ready to rise from her skin. Unfortunately, she was going to enter with her body more than ready. As would he. His body was already as hard as the hilt of a sword.
Moments later, Kara emerged, clinging to the thick royal blue towel wrapped around her with a charming self-consciousness. His gaze rose from her perfectly shaped legs over the slender curves hidden by the towel to the gentle swell of breasts and the sweep of her silken shoulders.
The breath caught in his throat as heat spiraled low inside him in a raw, pulsing ache. And he hadn't even touched her.
I can't do this . But when his gaze rose to her eyes he saw an odd combination of uncertainty and trust. It was the latter that did him in. She trusted him to do what must be done. The least he could do was trust himself.
He motioned her to stand by the bed. "We'll make this as quick as possible." Which wouldn't be nearly quick enough. He lifted the oil jar into his hand and poured a drop onto his palm. Rubbing it between his thumbs, he closed the distance between them.
Her sweet scent rose up through the floral scent of shampoo, wrapping itself around him, swamping his senses.
"The first is your temples. The opening of the mind." He slid his fingers into her hair, gripping her small head as his thumbs slid over her temples in a circular motion, rubbing the oil into her beautiful skin. She was so near, the warmth of her flesh ignited his own as she watched him with luminous eyes framed in gold lashes. His gaze slid lower to the light dusting of freckles on her pert nose and the lush curve of her lips parting with her quickening breath.
Her sighs slid over his skin, the need to taste her becoming almost a physical pain. He began to chant softly in the language of the ancients, a chant designed to call her passion. But her need rolled over him in a wave of heat that almost buckled his knees.
" Sweet goddess . No more chanting. Talk. Questions. Ask me questions." The oil was a must, but the passion was going to drown them both if he didn't change the direction of their thoughts.
How in the hell was he going to survive what was left to come?
CHAPTER 6
Questions?
How did he expect her to think of questions when she was standing in nothing but a towel, so close she could feel his breath in her hair? Kara's gaze caught on the small triangle of hair in the open vee of Lyon's shirt as his masculine scent sent a river of heat flowing between her legs.
He stepped back and poured a dab of oil into his palm, then dipped his fingers into the oil and traced the scar on her left breast.
"The opening of the heart," he murmured, pressing his fingers into the sensitive flesh and rubbing.
Her chest rose and fell against his fingers in a quickening movement as she pressed into his touch, wanting more. So much more. She looked up into his face and saw her thoughts mirrored perfectly in the passion-filled amber of his eyes.
"Ask me a question, little Radiant," Lyon begged, his voice pained.
Kara struggled for a thought besides the heat swirling through her veins. "I thought" she breathed, triumphant over the lust that held her in thrall. "I thought you said there were only nine shape-shifters. Pink makes ten, right?"
"Pink's not actually a shape-shifter so much as a half-animal. When a Feral dies, his animal flees to another within his line. The strongest. Usually it's an adult male. Occasionally a woman or a child, though children are rare in our society. Pink was an identical twin. In Pink's case, we believe the animal flew to her shortly after conception, just before the egg split. The animal became trapped between the two girls. They were both born half-human, half-flamingo. Pink's sister was killed in the belief doing so would free her half of the animal spirit, allowing the entire spirit to go to Pink. But it didn't work. Pink has been trapped within that half-animal body for nearly six hundred years."
" Six hundred ?" The true realization of what it meant to be immortal nearly lifted her out of the sensuous haze. "I saw Pink in the dining room. I'm afraid I reacted badly to the sight of her. I need to apologize."
Lyon lifted his hand from her breast and stepped back as if he needed to regroup, giving her air to breathe even as the oil's scent slid through her in a wash of erotic warmth.
"Pink understands," Lyon assured her. "She's used to reactions such as yours." He made a circular movement with his finger. "Turn around."
"Where now?"
"Your spine. The source of your strength."
Kara caught her breath. "My spine is covered."
"Leave it that way for the moment."
She turned, and he settled his thumb gently against the base of her skull and started a slow, downward motion between her shoulder blades as far as the top of the towel, then back up again. Twice. Three times.
"Drop the towel, Kara." His voice sounded strangled. "Hold perfectly still. And ask questions ."
She heard him kneel behind her. The thought of baring her naked rear to him turned her breathing shallow and erratic, and sent a rush of liquid heat to moisten her thighs. Mortifying her.
"Lyon"
"Quickly, Kara. I don't know how much more of this I can take."
With a scrunch of her face, she pulled the towel away and held it in front of her, clutching it tight to her breasts.
She felt his thumb between her shoulder blades as it began a slow decent down the curve of her back. An involuntary shiver had her arching her back, sending her bare rear brushing against his arm. With a jerk, she straightened, even as she felt that thumb slide lower. And lower, to the very base of her spine where it nestled between her nether cheeks.
The groan that escaped her throat was half embarrassment that she was letting this virtual stranger touch her like this, and half pure erotic feeling.
" Questions, Kara ." Lyon's voice was husky with raw desire. At least she wasn't the only one affected.
" You're kidding ." All she could do was feel his thumb rubbing, dipping into that crevice, wishing it would go lower. Down, around. Inside.
"Kara."
"Right. What were we talking about?"
"Pink. Shape-shifters."
Her breath came in fast, shallow pulls as if she'd been running up the stairs. Her thoughts whirled with carnal images of where she longed to feel his fingers next. But he wanted questions. About shape-shifters.
She struggled to reconnect her brain. "How you said you hunt Daemons in your animal form. Don't people notice lions and cougars and tigers roaming the D.G. suburbs at night?"
With a mixture of relief and hot regret, she felt his thumb lift from her spine. She tensed, waiting for the next place, hoping.
She felt his thumb at the back of one knee and let out a sigh of disappointment.
"We have talents." His warm breath wafted over her lower back. "What you would call magic. When I hunt in my animal, I can alter my size and shape to fit the landscape,".
"What do you mean?"
He gave a snort that was half amusement. "I prowl D.C. as a tomcat."
"You're kidding."
His hand shifted to the back of her other knee. "It took me years to perfect the ability, but it works. Some of the others do the same. Wulfe can't change his form, so he stays out of the city to hunt."
He released her knees and rose. "Put the towel around you again." His words were sharp, almost harsh, but she knew he was struggling as much as she was. She had no illusions that she was pretty enough to drive a man mad with lust when she was clothed. But a man with his hands on any naked woman was going to want her. That was just the way men were. And this one, shape-shifter or not, was all male.
Lyon strode to the window and stood there staring out, every line of his gorgeous body as taut as a cat ready to spring.
Kara wrapped the towel tight around her as she had before. "What's next?"
Lyon didn't turn around. "The palms of your hands. The soles of your feet. And are you covered?"
"Yes."
He turned and met her gaze. Even across the room she could see the need in the harsh lines of his face. She wanted him. Never had she felt such desire for a man. His touch aroused her more than she'd ever thought possible and his tongue.
Just the thought of his tongue sent a flurry of small spasms rippling through her womb.
Lyon started toward her, moving with a sleek grace that almost made it seem possible he could become the great cat in truth. The raw desire that filled his amber eyes made her breath catch and sent heat flushing her body.
She was trembling, she realized, as he closed the distance between them. She wanted him . How could she take any more of this? How could he ?
To her surprise, he didn't stop in front of her as she'd expected, but fully closed the distance between them. Her heart leaped, her senses spinning as he pulled her against him, dug his hands into her hair, and claimed her mouth.
The moment his lips touched hers, desire exploded, sending her world tilting on its axis. She grabbed him to steady herself, holding on to him as he held her, as his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was as intense and barely controlled as the passion that flared between them. His mouth opened over hers, his tongue swept inside, strong and fierce, as if laying claim. She welcomed him, sliding her tongue against his, the gloriously masculine taste of him transporting her out of herself and into a lush, erotic jungle. Lyon groaned and pulled her tighter against him, tilting his head as if he sought to climb inside her, his desperation sending her into a tailspin of lust.
Slowly, his mouth gentled, coaxing instead of dominating, tasting instead of devouring. His tongue slid over hers in a sinuous dance, every stroke sending a lick of fire to her sensitive core until the throbbing between her legs became almost unbearable. Every stroke tightening, twisting, until she writhed against him, small whimpers escaping from her throat.
Dear heaven.
His tongue stroked hers once, twice more before the pressure deep inside her crested and broke, the orgasm ripping through her in furious, glorious spasms. He pushed the hand at her back lower, grabbing her rear and pressing her hips tight against the thick ridge in his pants. And still he kissed her. Still his tongue rode hers, sending her scattered passion into a whirlwind of a spiral, shattering her a second time.
Lyon pulled his mouth away with a last sensuous slide of his tongue against hers, then kissed the tip of her nose and held her tight against him as the spasms Slowly subsided, and her legs finally remembered how to stand.
"I shouldn't have done that," he murmured against her hair.
"Oh, I think it was a grand idea."
Lyon chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek. "It was necessary."
"Yes." She blinked. "Why?"
He pulled back, releasing her to stand on her own as he picked up the oil jar and dribbled a few drops into his palm, then knelt before her.
"Because, to open you to life," he murmured, then slid his oiled finger beneath the towel and between her legs. "I must oil the gates of your womb. Spread your legs, Kara."
She took a ragged breath and widened her stance, doing as he asked. Squeezing her eyes closed, she struggled to stand still as his fingers slid over that moist, sensitized flesh when all she wanted to do was buck and writhe until he buried himself deep inside her.
"Lyon" she groaned.
"Stay in your skin, little Radiant."
"Stay where?"
"A shape-shifter saying. It means to calm down."
She groaned. " How ?" She was out of control. She'd just cometwiceyet it hadn't been enough. Her body wanted him. Hips rocking, she pressed against his hand, unable to control the need raging through her. "I want you inside me, Lyon. All of you."
"I know. Sweet goddess, you're wet." His words were brittle with restraint. "But I can't take you. If I slake my desire on you now, the ritual won't work. I'll never know if I was the one."
"Lyon" She was dying. Dying. "Lyon ."
He shoved a finger inside her, then a second, and she moaned with relief. In and out, harder and faster, feeding her frenzy as she rode the waves of sensation. Never had she felt like this, so out of her head with desire she barely even remembered the word inhibitions , let alone knew what she'd done with hers.
She gripped his shoulders, feeling the towel slide down and away and not caring. When his mouth closed over her breast, she felt a hot spurt of triumph. Her hands moved to his head, his thick hair sliding between her fingers as she held him against her. She arched into his touch, rocking against his hand as his fingers dove into her, over and over, in a hard, desperate rhythm. Within moments, she was shattering yet again and knew she'd never felt anything so wonderful in her life.
Lyon pulled his fingers and mouth away and held her from him with shaking hands. His white-hot gaze scorched her naked body.
"Kara," he croaked. "Put the towel on. I'm hanging on to my control by a thread, and we're not done." He released her and reached for the oil as she struggled to wrap the towel around herself. In record time, Lyon rubbed the oil into her hands and feet, then strode to the closet with fast, urgent steps.
He returned with a simple, if elegant gown. The dress reminded Kara of a loose-fitting spaghetti-strap sundress, but longer. And silkier. A cocktail dress, she supposed, white with gold embroidery at the neck, and a spray of gold flowers running, diagonally from left breast to right hem.
"Drop your towel and lift your arms," he directed, keeping his gaze fixed on the far wall. She did, and he slipped the gown over her head and let it fall to a few inches below her knees in a soft cloud, caressing her skin with a sensuous softness.
Lyon turned away and stalked to the window. "Brush out your hair, and we'll go."
"What about shoes?"
"No shoes," he said, his voice hoarse, his hand gripping the window frame as if he meant to tear it off the wall.
She watched his rigid back a moment longer, then crossed to the bathroom where she'd left her hairbrush and pulled the rubber band out of her hair. As her hair tumbled around her shoulders, she caught her reflection and stared at herself in the mirror in bemused fascination. She barely recognized the woman she saw there. With her hair down, her cheeks and lips flushed, and the gown flowing over her slender curves, she almost looked like something out of a Greek play. As she moved toward the vanity for her brush, she caught the flash of light between her legs from the room behind her. Her gaze fell to her breasts, and her eyes widened. While one of her nipples was strategically hidden by a gold flower, the dusty bud of the other showed plainly against the sheer white of the gown.
The dress was indecently see-through!