Feral warrior 4- Rapture Untamed

by Pamela Palmer

  She watched him with growing intensity, as if she were studying him. “Tell me if you feel anything.”

  He did, that sense of her feeding. Not painfully strongly, but not lightly either.

  “You’re feeding.”

  “Yes.” At once, the feeling went away. “I wonder…”

  Again, he felt a buzz, but it was different this time. Almost like a light tingle of energy that danced along the surface of his skin, sinking inside him. The energy began to flow into him, into his blood, into his muscle. His senses sharpened, his mind felt clearer, his energy renewed.

  He stared at her. “What are you doing?” But he knew.

  “When I feed, I pull energy into me. Right now, I’m pushing it back at you.”

  “I feel it. I feel stronger. Not like I’m ready to lift buses over my head, but I feel good. Rested. Ready for anything.”

  Her fists dropped from her hips, and she tucked her knives away and closed the distance between them with an air of elation that made her face absolutely glow.

  “Do you know what this means, Jag?”

  He grinned, caught up in her joy. “Not a clue.”

  “It means that if I take too much from someone, like that kid at the motel, I can give it back. I can target what I’m doing. Steal from an enemy without hurting those around me. And give back to those who need it. It’s brilliant!”

  He slipped his hands around her waist. “Easy, Red. It’s brilliant while it lasts. But this may be temporary.”

  The brightness of her expression dimmed. “It may be. Then again, being draden-kissed has been quite permanent.”

  His hands rose to cup her face. As he stared into her shining gray eyes, he was gripped by a longing so fierce, so piercing, he had to catch his breath against the force of it.

  Mine.

  Deep within him, the jaguar roared his approval.

  He took her into his arms and kissed her like a man too long without touch. Without tenderness. And he was that man. Goddess, he was exactly that man.

  Olivia reached up and slipped her arms around his neck, her fingers caressing his flesh, his scalp. She’d walked into his life like a small flaming tornado, stirring up his existence, tossing everything he’d known, everything he’d believed, to the winds.

  He wanted her with a desperation he could barely fathom. Her body, yes, but more. So much more. Her smiles, her joy of battle, her fierce pride, and her soft touches.

  My mate.

  But even as the words roared within his heart, that thing that lived inside him rose up with a horrific growl.

  What right did he have to happiness? To love and a mate. To satisfaction. To joy?

  None.

  What he felt for Olivia was wrong. All wrong.

  He was nothing but a selfish, coldhearted bastard who hadn’t even stepped in to save his own mother. Who’d run to save himself, leaving her to die a death as awful as any Daemon could dish out.

  He didn’t deserve happiness, and never had. He didn’t deserve Olivia.

  On the edge of her consciousness, beyond the swirl of passion and hot desire, Olivia felt the kiss change from one of hungry tenderness to something sharper. Darker. The gentleness inexplicably vanishing.

  The kiss turned from a sharing of passion to one far closer to a battle. For dominance and control. And Olivia never shied away from a battle.

  As Jag’s tongue swept into her mouth, staking a claim, her fingers tightened in his hair, pressing him closer until her lips ground against his. The kiss turned hungry and demanding, and not altogether nice.

  She craved the taste of him, the touch of his mouth, his tongue, and reveled in the fierceness. She was strong, but so was he, and she exulted in his power.

  His hands began to tear at her clothing and she shoved him back. With the life energy of a hundred draden pumping through her veins, she was nearly as strong as a Feral.

  She pulled off her own clothing, having no desire to see any more of it ripped, and she sensed Jag was in a mood to do just that. As she tossed her bra in the grass and pulled down her panties, she met Jag’s hot gaze, watching him smile wickedly.

  They came together in an explosion of heat and need, nothing like the sweetness in his bedroom before. And it was war. Jag grabbed her knotted hair and yanked her head back, dipping his head to lick and suck at her throat while his other hand gripped her thigh, yanking it high on his hip, nearly lifting her off her feet as he opened her to his seeking erection and drove himself inside her.

  She cried out with the exquisite pressure of him filling her, then she lifted her other leg, hooking both around his waist. He grabbed her buttocks and slammed into her, over and over, driving them both to a fast, explosive release.

  But the battle had just begun. Jag pulled out of her, dropping her to her feet, then grabbed her hair and pushed her down.

  “On your knees, Red.”

  As she dropped to one knee, he yanked her head back and shoved his cock into her mouth. She sucked hard on that damp, swollen flesh, loving the feel of it in her mouth even as she rose to the challenge of his bid for dominance.

  She sucked harder and harder until he winced.

  “Sugar…”

  Olivia released her grip on his cock at the same moment she shot up, sweeping her leg and knocking his own out from under him.

  Jag hit the ground hard, and she was on top of him, grabbing his cock and taking it into her mouth her way.

  He groaned with intense pleasure, arching into her, and she grabbed his nuts with her free hand, yanking and pulling on them with just enough force that he quickly came in her mouth with a guttural yell of pure pleasure.

  No sooner had he finished, than he clamped his legs around her and rolled, flinging her to her back in the rough grass. His body pinned hers, his mouth diving to her breast and taking it roughly. Wonderfully.

  He shoved two fingers inside her, and she arched up, driving him deeper. And then he moved back between her legs, clamping his hands around her thighs and wrenching them wide. With a hard, devilish gleam, he went down on her, licking between her legs, sucking her swollen clit into his mouth.

  She arched, crying out with the pleasure, then groaned as he released her and sat back. A moment later, her body began to tingle with the strange and wonderful electricity she felt every time he shifted. Her eyes flew open and she stared into Jag’s as he shifted into a large, darkly spotted jungle cat.

  “Jag,” she breathed, transfixed. Understanding slammed into her and she made a sound that was half laughter, half disbelief. “You are not fucking me as a cat.”

  He didn’t answer, just watched her with those hunter’s eyes, his tongue flicking out between a wicked set of fangs. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, and yet on a deep, primal level lurked the illogical fear that he’d open those jaws and use those teeth to tear her asunder.

  The fear thrilled through her blood, more rollercoaster fright than genuine concern, setting her heart to racing and her blood to pounding, the adrenaline ratcheting high.

  The great cat rose, padding over her until he straddled her, his fanged face inches from her own. His hot breath smelled surprisingly sweet, not at all what she would have expected from a wild animal.

  Then again, the wildness of this animal came from the man himself.

  Without warning, with a lick of her chin, the great weight of him settled on top of her, much as it had in the woods during the draden attack. But this time she could feel his warm fur down the entire length of her bare body.

  “Jag, get off me. We’re not doing this.”

  Jag’s voice sounded softly in her head. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like?

  “You are truly perverted.”

  Why? Because I like to make love to you in unusual ways?

  His words caught her by surprise and rang falsely in her heart. “No. You’re not making love to me out here at all. You did that only once. In your room, on the wreckage of your bed, you made love to me. Tonight, all we�
��ve done is fucked, nothing more.”

  She grabbed his jaguar’s head in both hands. “Shift, Jag. Shift back, dammit!”

  With a low growl, he began to shimmer. The magic swept over her, into her, as he shifted back into a man, the feel incredible.

  And he was once more a man, his body covering hers. With a hard thrust, he entered her, shoving himself deep inside her once, twice. He pulled out, grabbed her hips, and flipped her onto her knees.

  Olivia growled with frustration. “The jackass is back.”

  Without answering, he jerked her hips back and mounted her hard from behind. There was no tenderness, no care in his touch. He was punishing her for her honesty. Punishing them both.

  “Damn you,” she hissed, and pulled her knee up, slamming her heel back into his upper thigh, knocking him back on his rear. With the speed and force gained from her feeding, she turned and launched herself at him, tackling him down. In a single move, she straddled him and took him deep inside her, face-to-face.

  Jag’s big hands gripped her hips, and he thrust deep, his eyes closing as he arched back.

  But she locked her thighs, holding him inside her, not letting him move. “Look at me, Feral,” she demanded.

  His eyes opened, blinking lazily as he complied.

  “We’re going to have a talk, you and I.”

  “Now?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Right now, while I have your attention.”

  His fingers flexed in her buttocks cheeks. “Sugar, you most certainly have my attention.”

  “Something happened in your bedroom.”

  He stroked her rear. “Damn straight it did.”

  “Something other than sex. You let me see the man you really are, Jag. You didn’t hide behind the bad attitude. Something happened between us. I felt it. I know you did, too, because you’re hell-bent on ruining it, now.”

  “This isn’t good for you?”

  “Don’t play stupid, Jag. You’re not. Though, goodness knows, I think you’re blind. I see what you’re doing but, honestly, I don’t think you do.”

  He rocked against her. “Let me move, Red.”

  “Are you so afraid to hear what I have to say?”

  His brows lowered in a glare. “I’m trying to get off, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Listen to me for a few more minutes, then I’ll help you get off any way you like.”

  “Any way?”

  “Any way that doesn’t involve fur.” Olivia stroked his chest with her fingertips. “You blame yourself for your mother’s death, Jag. You hate yourself for it. And you have for nearly three and a half centuries.”

  His eyes lost all trace of humor. “Careful, Sugar.” The words dripped warning, but he needed to hear this whether he liked it or not.

  “You’ve got to face that day, Jag, look it in the eye, and not from the vantage point of a sixteen-year-old kid. Look at it as an adult. Then you have to forgive the kid you were, Jag. Forgive yourself. Because, whether you see it or not, the guilt has taken over your life. It destroys every good thing that comes into your life.”

  His fingers bit into her hips, anger snapping in his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. “You didn’t mean for her to die, Jag. If you had, you wouldn’t still be living with the guilt all these years later. You made some mistakes, but it’s past time you forgave yourself.

  “Bitch. Get off me.”

  “No.” She pressed her hands hard on his abs. “You’re going to hear this, Feral. You’re being incredibly selfish, making everyone else miserable just to punish yourself. Stop doing it. Leave it in the past and get over it!”

  His hand shot up, gripping her jaw almost painfully. Fury fired his eyes. “Why in the hell do you think it matters to me what you say? You have no right shoving your nose into my business. Into my past.”

  “I care about you, Jag. Goddess knows why, but you’ve started to matter to me.”

  Beneath her, he went utterly still. Then like a volcano exploding, he pushed her off him, onto the grass, and stood up, turning on her. “I don’t need you to care about me.” His voice rose with each word. “I don’t need to matter to a draden-kissed, life-stealing bitch!”

  Olivia flinched as if she’d been struck. She’d known he wouldn’t want to hear the truth, but goddess, his words hurt, as he’d meant them to.

  “Get away from me, Olivia.” He yanked on the pants he’d shucked earlier. “Just get the hell away from me.”

  His every word twisted like a knife in her chest as her own insecurities rose up, threatening to choke her. He was the only one in the world who knew what she was.

  She knew he’d struck out at her to hurt her as she’d hurt him, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d told her the truth. She was damaged. Wrong. And no one who truly knew her could ever really care about her.

  No one could ever love a life-stealer.

  Feeling hollow and beaten, she rose and grabbed her clothes, pulling on her pants. But as she pushed her arms through the armholes of her tank, Jag suddenly moved beside her.

  She looked up in surprise, and that was when she saw them. Lyon and Tighe standing in the woods, watching them.

  Her pulse leaped with fear, her skin going cold. Had they heard what Jag said to her? What he’d called her?

  A draden-kissed, life-stealing bitch.

  The shimmers of light told her all she needed to know—five shimmers that circled the small clearing where she and Jag stood. Her heart thundered in her chest as the five Ferals—lion, tiger, wolf, cougar, and snake—shifted into their animals, into a form they must think was safe from a dangerous life-stealer.

  A dangerous enemy.

  Her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jag’s head pounded, his body turning to ice as the Ferals surrounded them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Olivia sway, reeling from the shock of his inadvertent betrayal.

  They knew what she was. And the five animals now circled as if to destroy her.

  Are you draden-kissed, Olivia? Lyon’s hard voice rang in Jag’s head.

  “Yes.” Beside him, Olivia answered, a small quaver in her strong, sure voice, and he knew she must be as terrified as he was.

  “She’s safe, Roar.” Jag grabbed Olivia’s arm and pulled her in front of him, his hand going around her waist. Against him she stood ramrod straight. “She’s been draden-kissed for centuries.”

  What had he done? He’d attacked her verbally, hitting her where he’d instinctively known he’d hurt her the most. But he hadn’t foreseen an audience. He hadn’t foreseen this!

  Is that true, Olivia? Lyon asked.

  “I’ve been like this for more than four hundred years, Lyon. I’m in complete control.” But a note of doubt slipped into her words and he knew she was thinking of the past day and the Daemon energy that had made her too strong. “Let go of me, Jag.” She pulled at his arm.

  “No.” No way in hell was he letting the others touch her.

  “Dammit, I said let go of me!”

  He released her, and at once she moved away from him. As if she couldn’t stand his touch.

  Ice formed in his chest.

  Go, Olivia, Lyon said, the animal releasing a fierce, dangerous growl. Before I change my mind.

  Olivia hesitated only a moment before starting for the open space between the huge Bengal tiger and the big gray wolf. As she approached, Tighe sat back on his haunches, Wulfe following his lead, as both let her pass.

  Jag started to follow her, but the lion bounded into the circle, blocking his path. With a furious growl, five hundred pounds of angry cat launched at him, knocking him flat on his back on the ground.

  In a spray of light, Lyon shifted, already feral. His claws clamped around Jag’s neck, digging deep into his throat.

  “How long have you known?” he snarled between wicked fangs.

  “Long enough.” His words gurgled from the blood in his throat
.

  “You brought her into Feral House, endangering everyone. Endangering your Radiant! And you knew?”

  For once in his life, he felt no prick of the old desire to rile Lyon further.

  “I can feel when she feeds, Roar. Every time. She can’t feed without my knowing, and she would never hurt us even if she could. She isn’t a danger.”

  “Like hell she isn’t. She could kill Kara. She could kill any of us.”

  “If she chose to, yes. Just as Kara could kill Delaney or Skye by pulling radiance on them. Just as any of the Ferals could kill any of the women. None of us is safe, Roar. We’re all deadly if we choose to be.”

  For long moments, he stared up into those furious lion eyes, the blood running down his neck and into his throat. But he didn’t fight. He’d known there would be hell to pay if Lyon found out. And he was more than willing to pay it.

  With a last growl, Lyon yanked his claws from Jag’s throat and stood.

  Jag rose to his feet, watching his chief. “I’m going after her, Roar. I love her.” The words startled him. His mind tried to recoil from the declaration and failed. Because, dammit, he’d told the truth. Deep inside, his animal growled with approval.

  Lyon stared at him, his fangs receding, then scowled. “Goddess help us.” But he didn’t tell him not to go, and that was all the invitation Jag needed.

  He took off on two legs, in the direction Olivia had gone, unwilling to lose his pants, and his free pass into human society, unless he had to.

  Olivia’s life was over, and it was his fault. Guilt flayed him. He might not have meant to betray her, but dammit, he had meant to hurt her. She’d told him things he hadn’t wanted to hear, and he’d lashed out at her.

  Because they’d hurt. Because deep down he knew she was right. Cordelia’s death had fucked him up good. He couldn’t get past it. He hated himself for what he’d done that day.

  Now he had the rest of his life to hate himself for what he’d done this day, too.

  Cordelia would never have won any awards for best mother, but in her own way she’d loved him.