Wulfe Untamed

“Kougar is calling a feral circle,” Wulfe told her. “The entire back of the house will be warded once he does, so even if one of the neighboring humans walks through, they’ll neither see nor hear anything. Wait here.” He stepped forward, joining the other men, all of whom were incredibly well built, though not a one held a candle to Wulfe.



“Hi, Natalie.” Delaney came to join her, along with another woman, an attractive brunette with eyes almost as bright a blue as Melisande’s. “Natalie, Julianne,” Delaney said, by way of introduction.



“Hi, Julianne.” Natalie shook hands with the woman, but her gaze immediately returned to the Feral who’d caught her eye—a male currently stripping out of his clothes, right there in front of everyone. Lyon was doing the same.



“The nudity takes a little getting used to,” Delaney murmured, amusement in her voice. “Just one of the many perks of life with a bunch of shape-shifters.”



Natalie snorted, her gaze following Wulfe’s movements, admiring the perfection of his now-bare back and shoulders and watching with fascination as he pulled his jeans down and off. Her breath caught. His butt and legs were like sculpted marble, truly glorious to behold. How could a flesh-and-blood male be so beautiful, so perfectly formed?



“Admiring the view?” Delaney asked.



“Oh, yes. Every time I see it.”



Delaney made a sound of surprise. “Something already going on between you two?”



Lyon had settled Kara on a lawn chair, and now all the males, either shirtless or naked, made a wide circle around her. Each of them had a golden armband snaked around one thick biceps, Natalie realized.



“When the Mage attacked, he shifted a couple of times,” she told Delaney.



Julianne groaned. “And you’re human. That must have been a shock.”



Natalie smiled. “You could say that. I’d met the wolf before and had already fallen in love with him. Finding out he was really a man, a shifter, was definitely a shock. But at least I’d already come to trust him. He saved my life, attacking the Mage sentinels who’d been sent to capture me.”



“I’m officially a fan, Natalie,” Delaney said quietly, seriously. “If you can handle all that and not fall apart, you’re rock solid.”



Natalie looked at her thoughtfully. “I’ve been having some strange dreams since . . . the incident—the Daemons. I’m beginning to think I’ve been dreaming about that day even if I don’t remember much of it. What happened last night was shocking of course, but I didn’t have much trouble accepting it. I suppose, subconsciously, I already knew about shape-shifters and the Mage.”



Delaney nodded. “That makes a lot of sense.”



“Here they go,” Julianne said breathlessly. “I’ve never seen a Feral shift.”



All three women turned their attention back to the shifters. Natalie watched as Kougar pulled out a wicked-looking knife.



“Small cuts only,” Lyon commanded. “And to your palms, not your chests.”



Several of the shifters made sounds of disgust.



“They’re not healing,” Delaney said, her voice low and tight.



One by one, the shifters cut their palms, then thrust those fisted hands into the air. As Wulfe cut his own, his gaze found Natalie’s and held, a look in his eyes that, for once, she couldn’t read. A touch of pride, perhaps, that he belonged in that elite, mythic circle. Or perhaps a pinch of concern that she might be put off by the strangeness of it all. Maybe a little of both.



“He likes you,” Delaney murmured beside her.



“I like him, too.”



“Do you?” It wasn’t a casual question.



“He’s a good man.”



“He is. He absolutely is. But he’s been dealt a rough hand.”



Natalie met the other woman’s gaze. “Are you ready to tell me more, now?”



Delaney watched her assessingly. “When a new Radiant is marked, one of the Ferals is chosen as her mate. It happens during a ritual, all very mystical. Wulfe was the one chosen for the previous Radiant, Beatrice. From what I’ve heard, Beatrice was selfish and shallow and threw a tantrum that the goddess chose the scarred Feral for her.”



Natalie winced. “Oh, Wulfe. That’s terrible.”



“Tighe says Wulfe loved her, at least at first. The goddess gave him no choice but to love her. But he suffered for almost a century and a half with a mate who . . .” She didn’t complete the sentence, but Natalie heard the rest. “Nine months ago, Beatrice died, leaving Wulfe in even worse shape.”



“He misses her.”



“No, I honestly don’t think he does. But the mating bond between immortals is a real, physical bond that, when broken, often damages, if not destroys, the one left behind.”



“He seems . . . okay.”



Delaney nodded. “I’m not sure in what way it hurt him. Only that Tighe says it did.”



“Is there no healing from such an injury?”



“I don’t know.”



Natalie watched Wulfe as he thrust his hand into the air alongside his companions, aching for all he’d been through. “How could Beatrice not see past his scars? I barely see them anymore, and I’ve known him less than a day. He is so beautiful,” she breathed. “Inside and out.”



Delaney’s hand landed on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Natalie. Very, very glad.”



Natalie met the other woman’s gaze with a smile. “Me, too.” Though her being there might be a very short-lived thing.



As the last of the Feral Warriors thrust his fist in the air, the bearded Feral began to chant. “Spirits rise and join. Empower the beasts beneath this sky.”



The other Ferals joined in the chant, their voices low at first, then louder and louder. Goose bumps raced along Natalie’s arms. Lightning flashed. The ground beneath her feet began to tremble.



Eyes widening, Natalie glanced at Delaney and Julianne.



“Watch, Natalie,” Delaney whispered.



She did, turning back to the Ferals as excitement and energy pressed all around her.



“Empower the spirit of . . .” they called in unison.



“The wolf!” Wulfe yelled.



His brothers . . . and sister . . . all named their own animals. “The hawk! The falcon! The tiger! The cougar!”



Suddenly, most of them disappeared in that familiar explosion of sparkling lights to be replaced, seconds later, by incredible, magnificent animals—a glorious African lion, a magnificent Bengal tiger, a sleek black panther, and a huge red fox. Two birds of prey sat among the larger animals as their animal kin would never dare. And the wolf she was coming to adore stood with them.



But the bald Feral—a male she hadn’t met—shouted with a mix of fury and agony and remained human. Kougar, too, threw back his head, his body going rigid as he failed to shift. And Jag stood, fully clothed, eyeing the other two with frustration and misery.



“It’s getting worse,” Delaney said beside her, her voice laced with real fear. “Kougar and Vhyper now, too.”



Remain in your animals. Lyon’s voice rang in Natalie’s head as Wulfe’s did when he was in his animal. Concentrate on your Radiant. Share your energy with her.



The animals milled about the circle, several nudging Kara or laying their heads in her lap. Finally, Lyon shifted back to human and the others followed, one by one. Natalie watched Wulfe shift back, then walk over to clasp the bald Feral’s shoulder. A pall had fallen, dark and heavy, on the gathering. Lyon lifted Kara into his arms, then approached the two warriors who’d failed to shift, his eyes filled with a throbbing regret.



“I never thought the ritual would do harm.”



Kougar’s face was pale. “It wouldn’t have if our connections to our animals weren’t already close to shattering. This wasn’t your fault, Roar.”



Lyon nodded, but his mouth remained tight.



“It’s more than just losing their animals, isn’t it?” Natalie asked quietly.



“Ferals who can’t shift, ultimately die.” Though Delaney’s words were matter-of-fact, Natalie heard the underlying thread of fear.



Natalie reached for Delaney’s hand and gave it a squeeze, her gaze finding Wulfe where he stood with his friends. How could so much power and beauty, so much goodness and gentleness, be snuffed out just like that? It was wrong on so many levels. The Feral Warriors, these powerful immortals, might soon be no more. And while she understood that the ramifications of that were far greater than the loss of a handful of fine, strong males, that was the only part of it that she could truly wrap her mind around.



As she watched Wulfe pull on his jeans, then grab his T-shirt and turn to her with eyes as deep as the ocean, she knew her loss would be far, far more personal.



Chapter Ten



Wulfe pulled his T-shirt on over his head, the summer sun caressing the back of his neck through the trees even as his heart pounded with misery. And dread. Kougar and Vhyper, like Jag, were now cut off from their animals. Three Ferals unable to shift.



Deep inside, Wulfe’s own animal howled with anger and fear that he’d soon be next, and Wulfe had no words of comfort to offer. Because, for all he knew, the animal was right.



All around him, his brothers’ mates flocked to their sides. As Ariana took form at Kougar’s, the stoic, often silent male pulled her hard against him, burying his face in her hair. Olivia slid into Jag’s arms. Of the three now-nonshifting Ferals, only Vhyper stood alone without a mate to offer comfort. Without a mate to leave behind in pain and misery, if the worst happened. If they all died.



Beside him, Fox wrapped Melisande in his arms.



Two more Feral lights have gone out, my lord. Soon all will be doused, and the Daemons will rise.



Wulfe froze at the now-familiar sound of Inir’s voice in his head.



Hail the Daemons, my lord.



Hail the Daemons.



A chill rippled over Wulfe’s flesh, his gaze seeking Natalie, where she now stood beside Julianne and Zeeland. Behind them, the Therian Guards returned to the house, heads down, their mood respectfully somber.



Natalie watched him with worried gray eyes—eyes filled with compassion and strength. The sun sparkled on her hair, turning it to spun gold, the brightness making her aura pale by comparison. She was so pretty, it made him ache. Especially when she flashed him a soft gray-eyes smile that arrowed straight to his heart.



“She’s into you, boyo,” Fox said quietly beside him, Melisande in his arms.



“I saved her from the Mage.”



“I know a thing or two about female smiles, Wulfe, and that one is as warm and welcoming as any I’ve seen.”



At Fox’s grunt, Wulfe turned to find Melisande looking up at her mate with an eyebrow raised, yet softness in her eyes. “As any?”



“Except for your smiles, my love.” Fox lifted his hand and stroked his Ilina wife’s cheek.



Wulfe turned away, the raw tenderness between them too private. Instead, he gave in to the need to be close to Natalie. As he neared, she reached for him, and he took her hand.



“Are you okay?” she asked, squeezing her fingers around his.



“I’m still shifting.”



Frown lines formed between her pretty brows. “I’m sorry this is happening, Wulfe.”



“Me, too.”



“Vhyper, wait,” Lyon called. Wulfe glanced up to find the warrior turning back a few feet from the door. “The Shaman would like to examine you, Jag, and Kougar.”



With a curt nod, Vhyper returned to the yard and the others, coming to a halt before the Shaman. But, while Vhyper towered over the much smaller male, the Shaman had never been intimidated by any of the Ferals, and he waved his hands, reaching up to touch Vhyper’s bald head. With a frown, the Shaman turned to Kougar and did the same, then to Jag.



By the time the ancient male turned to face Lyon, all eyes were upon him.



“Their animals are not gone,” the Shaman explained. The hope his words created were dashed with his next utterance. “As yet. A wall has been erected between each man and his animal spirit, a wall that is disintegrating the connection and will ultimately sever it permanently.”



And once those connections were broken, the men would die.



“How long do they have?” Lyon asked.



“I don’t know. Jag’s connection feels no less strong than the other two, so I would venture to say there’s been no significant deterioration during the past hours. It might be months. Or only days.”



“And when we’re gone,” Hawke said, his expression bleak, “Inir will free the Daemons.”



“Maybe before then.” Still holding Natalie’s hand, Wulfe moved toward them, pulling her with him. “Inir and Satanan are feeling our lights go out, as they put it. They know that three of us have ceased to register as Ferals. They’re waiting for the rest of us to do the same.”



Low murmurs of surprise and dismay peppered the group.



“So they don’t even need our deaths to free the Daemons,” Vhyper growled. “They just need us to lose our animals.”



“At this rate, that could happen before nightfall,” Tighe muttered.



Kougar stroked his beard. “They still need unascended Radiant’s blood.”



“Which they’re working to create,” Paenther countered. He looked at Wulfe. “They haven’t succeeded?”



Wulfe shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard.”



Lyon turned to Ariana, who stood tight against Kougar’s side. “We need that ritual.”



The queen of the Ilinas nodded. “I’m working on it, Lyon.” Her expression turned resolute. “I will find it.”