Desire Untamed (Feral Warriors #1)

Desire Untamed (Feral Warriors #1) Page 20

His instincts won.

"Tomorrow night we ascend her. Then she's yours. Until then, as the finder and chief, she's my responsibility." His voice brooked no argument.

Vhyper's fangs slowly retracted, a show of more control than Lyon himself had. "She's your responsibility? Or is she yours? To touch. To fondle. To fuck?"

Lyon's hands balled into fists, and it was all he could do not to smash them through Vhyper's face. "Watch your language, Snake."

"Watch your hands, Roar. I saw you touching her. Holding her. You've said yourself you lost control during the preparation for the Pairing. And every Feral watched you lose control during the Pairing itself. Why in the hell should I trust you with her now?"

He shouldn't. Goddess knew, Lyon didn't trust himself. What in the hell was he doing?

Yet he couldn't back down. Kara needed him. All he knew for certain was she needed him.

He rarely explained himself to his men. He sure as hell didn't feel like explaining himself now. But he didn't have a choice. At the very least, he had to convince himself he was doing the right thing. That he hadn't, in fact, lost complete control.

He straightened and crossed his arms across his chest, pinning the other man with his hardest look. "Until she's ascended, you're not touching her. And I'm not letting her out of my sight."

With a hiss of anger, Vhyper whirled and stormed from the room.

As his beast roared with approval, Lyon wondered what in the hell he'd just done.

"I'll be right outside your door," Lyon told Kara that evening as he stood with her in front of her bedroom. This was the first time he'd been alone with her since they'd returned from the falls. Dinner had been a tense affair, with Vhyper glaring at him and Foxx snarling at every man at the table. Kougar and Jag had gotten into it over something trivial, but both managed to regain control when he'd demanded. Not once had he left Kara's side, but neither had he trusted himself to be alone with her.

He rested his hands on either side of her neck, now, draining the emotions, hoping she'd be able to fall asleep before they became unbearable again. Because the one place he didn't dare follow her was into her room while she slept.

His control wasn't that strong.

"Are you going to stay out here all night?" Her blue eyes watched him.

"All night." His thumbs brushed the underside of her chin. If not for Vhyper, he might have attempted the torture of staying with her to keep the emotions at bay. But Vhyper's accusations were too close to the truth. He wanted this woman with a need that was like fire in his blood. The temptation of her was just too much.

Kara lifted her hands to cover his. Warmth flowed into his bloodstream.

"I'm glad." She sighed, her lips parting, drawing his. gaze. He tried to look away, but it was no use. Her scent teased his nostrils, her hair gleamed beneath the golden glow of the lamplight. Her mouth beckoned until his hands shook from the effort of not giving in to the need to taste her again.

He should leave. Now. Before he did something he'd regret.

But the thought of putting so much as a door between them had his beast howling with unhappiness. His fingers brushed her neck. With one hand, he stroked her hair.

"Have they found the dark charm, yet?" she asked.

"Not yet. But they will. And if they don't, I'll call the Shaman. He has a unique ability to sense magic. He'll find it for sure."

Something warm glowed in her eyes. "I almost wish you'd wait and call the Shaman later."

He lifted a brow in surprise. "Why?"

"Because once the fear goes away, you won't have any reason to touch me."

Lyon tossed back his head and groaned even as he pulled her against his chest and dug his fingers into her hair.

Her slender arms went around his waist. "I wish it were you." Her voice was so low he wasn't certain those words had been meant for his ears, but he heard. Goddess help him, he heard.

His hand slid down her back, hard, shaking with a need he couldn't slake. The blood pooled between his legs, heavy, his erection pressing against her abdomen.

If only he could slake his desire for her. Maybe it would be over, then. He'd be able to forget her.

But he couldn't. Ever.

He needed to get the hell away from her.

Lyon gripped her shoulders and pulled her gently back. "Go to bed, Kara. Before I do something I'm going to regret."

The look she gave him was almost a smile. A sad one, but a smile.

"Good night, Lyon."

He locked his hands behind his back to keep from reaching for her. "Sleep, little one. Dream-free." Then she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Lyon settled on the floor, propping himself against the wall. It promised to be a damned long night, but he wouldn't be able to sleep in his own bed for wondering if she was okay. At least this way, he'd hear her if she became distressed during the night. And more importantly, he'd be here if Vhyper got it into his head to claim his mate.

He could hear the sound of a basketball game on the television in the media room punctuated by the yells of his men as one team or another scored. More than two hours had passed when Paenther came upstairs.

"No sign of any kind of charm. I called the Shaman, but he's in New York visiting one of the enclaves. He's going to drive back tonight and will come over after dawn."

"Good. Any change in Wulfe?" Lyon asked, as the other warrior leaned one wide shoulder against the wall.

"None."

"What about the others?"

"Foxx is holding on to his control by a thread. As is Vhyper." His black eyes met Lyon's with the hard glint of truth. "And you."

Lyon couldn't deny it. He was definitely teetering on the edge.

"Jag's more volatile than usual, but that may just be because his digs are getting more reaction than he's used to. The others seem fine. They're taking turns watching Wulfe. Pink's annoyed as hell at all the blood spilling but showing no signs of trouble. Hawke and Jag have been mopping up the messes for her."

"And you?"

"I've been balancing on the edge of control for centuries. Nothing's changed." His gaze flicked to Kara's door. "How's she doing?"

"Well enough."

"Are you going to stay here all night?"

"I am. It's either that or lock up Vhyper."

Paenther eyed him soberly. "You really think he'd hurt her?"

"I think he's mad enough to want to. And I'm not sure his control is currently strong enough to refrain if he gets the chance. I'm not risking it."

Paenther's mouth compressed, but he said nothing as he met Lyon's gaze. Finally, he nodded, said good night, and went down the hall to his room.

Lyon tipped his head back, resting it against the wall behind him, his senses tuned to Kara. She was sleeping, he was almost sure of it. He was too far away to feel her emotions clearly, but low levels of fear were reaching him in regular waves. Unless he was touching her, she was never free of the rancid emotion. He wondered how she stood it.

His beast refused to settle down, whimpering continuously to go to her. To touch her, to ease that fear. To simply be near her.

What had she done to him? Just thinking about her made him ache in a way he barely understood, filling him with a need that was more of the spirit than of the body, though that ache was an ever-present torment as well. As soon as she was ascended, this ache would leave him. He'd go back to being as he'd always been.

He didn't need anyone. He'd never needed anyone.

Until Kara.

And it had to end.

She hung from the ceiling, her arms stretched until she thought they would break, her body hot from the ritual fires that surrounded her, sweat running down her temples and forehead, dripping into her eyes.

Eight robed figures circled her, daggers tight in their hands. Through the fog of dream and fear, she saw the flash of metal, then felt a pain worse than fire. And screamed.

Lyon wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep, but he woke suddenly to Kara's low cry of distress, her fear washing over him.

He was on his feet in an instant, through her door a heartbeat later. As he rushed to her side, he found her on her back, thrashing in the bed as small cries escaped her throat.

"Kara. Kara, wake up." Easing onto the bed beside her, he stroked her damp brow. "Kara, sweetheart, wake up. You're having a bad dream."

She jerked beneath his hand, then went still, trembling like a leaf in the rain. Slowly, she opened her eyes. But instead of being comforted by his presence, raw terror flooded her eyes, and she jerked away from his touch.

He moved back, giving her room as he attempted to gentle her with his voice. "Kara, it's me. You had a dream."

She was shaking hard enough to rock the bed. Her hands came up to clutch her skull as tears slid down her cheeks. "God, I hate this."

She didn't protest this time when he pulled her against him and onto his lap. Her arms wrapped around him, her damp face buried in his neck. Her pulse thundered so hard he could feel it pounding against his chest.

Lyon stroked her back, her hair, murmuring words of comfort. "You're safe, Kara. It was just a dream."

Slowly, Kara quieted in his arms as he pulled the fear out of her.

His palm splayed over the soft fabric of her nightgown, rubbing gentle circles on her back. "The Shaman will be here in the morning. He'll help us figure out what's going on."

Kara turned her head, pressing her ear to his shoulder.

He held her, stroking her until she fell asleep in his arms, then eased her back onto the bed. But when he straightened, intending to return to his post outside her door, his beast snapped at him. His deep, primitive instincts prowled, restless, sensing that something was wrong. Demanding he protect what was his.

She wasn't his, of course. But his beast would not be denied. He would protect her.

Lyon lifted the silk sheet and climbed in beside her, pulling her tight against his body. Kara gave a soft, satisfied sound and curled against him.

Both beast and man purred.

But less than an hour later, Lyon was the one in pain.

He didn't know what Kara was dreaming, but instead of her fear leaking into him, all he could feel was the steady rise of her arousal. Was he the one she was dreaming of? She was sure as hell dreaming about someone. A twinge of jealousy broke into the passion that was rising inside him. Goddess, but he wanted it to be dreams of him that had her hand clutching his shirt and had her making those soft, mewling noises deep in her throat.

With every one of her soft moans, his cock grew harder, more painfully engorged until it was all he could do not to flip her on her back and bury himself deep inside her.

He'd never been so acutely aware of a woman. The scent of her hair, the feel of her breath on his neck, the warmth of her body lying tight against his side.

He tried to keep his hands still, tried to keep from touching her, and failed. So he rubbed her back, his hand shaking.

Kara's low moans increased, and she lifted her leg over his, her knee just millimeters from his swollen erection. Instinctively, his hand shot out and captured that slender thigh. His fingers curled around the soft flesh, driving his need a hundred times higher. He wasn't even sure why he'd caught it. To push it down, or pull it closer? Or, perhaps, to reach for what lay beneath.

With a groan, he tipped his head back, fighting to stay in control. The only sane thing to do was to get up and leave her.

He'd left sanity behind the moment he'd pulled her into his arms.

Kara made a soft sound of need and pressed her leg tighter against his, pushing her hips into him as if seeking relief.

"Lyon." The soft, breathiness of her voice nearly undid him.

"You're awake."

"I was dreaming about you." She sounded like she was still half-dreaming, her voice sexy as hell.

His fingers spasmed, digging into her thigh.

"This was a good dream." Her hips pressed against his side. Heaven help him, she was rubbing herself against him. "An amazing dream."

"Kara." His hand slid up the long, smooth length of her thigh. Shaking. Needing. His fingers moved closer to her heat. One reached, stroking her own engorged flesh, brushing her wetness.

She sucked in a breath. "Lyon."

Beneath that scrap of nightgown, she was bare and wet, and wanting. Needing him.

And he could not take her.

But neither could he find the strength to move away.

Her fingers splayed across his chest, digging into his shirt, shaking as badly as his hands were.

"Put your fingers in me."

"I can't."

"You can. So close." The air was so heavy with her arousal it nearly sent him over the edge.

He gave in to the moment's weakness and stroked her wet folds again, drawing a gasp of such longing from her he knew he had to stop now, or he was going to finish. His entire body was shaking with the need to take her, to pin her to the mattress and drive himself into that wet heat.

"Lyon, please."

"No, Kara."

But her own control had been lost somewhere in her dreams. He felt her hips rise off the bed, felt her leg lift to straddle him. If he let her continue, let her press that wet heat against his erection, it was all over.

With Herculean effort, he forced himself to push her leg away, pressing her to the bed to keep her from trying to ride him again.

"Lyon."

"No, Kara." A funny ridge of bone deep within the fleshy part of her hip teased his fingertips. His finger moved, tracing the ridge. A perfect circle.

Shock vibrated through his body.