“How do you know?” Delaney asked, her expression turning hard.
Olivia felt horrible for dashing her hopes. “Mystery—the sorceress—told me what she was doing as she prepared me. She called the vortex a spirit trap. Its purpose is to separate the Ferals from their animals.”
“The seventeen,” Kougar said. “They were felled by just such a trap.”
Jag growled. “So not only are Tighe and Hawke lost to us, but we’re permanently down to seven?”
Kougar stroked his wet goatee. “It takes eleven days for the trap to separate man from animal. Eleven days until they die.” His gaze swung to Lyon. “I’ll be back in ten.” Then he turned and took off, running.
Delaney lifted tormented eyes to Lyon. “Does he have a plan?”
Lyon shook his head, his expression grim. “If Kougar has a way to save them, he will.”
“Dudes!” The call came from one of the humans. “We could use a little help, here.”
“Let me up, Jag,” Olivia said softly.
His gaze held her tight. “Do I have to?”
A smile tugged at her mouth. “Please?”
He loosened his hold and helped her up. When she was on her feet, she took his hand and pulled him up, returning the favor.
A rumble shook the ground, strong enough to have all of them adjusting their stances to stay on their feet.
“What was that?” Jag asked.
“Look!” Delaney froze, then took off at a run. Where the middle of the vortex used to be, a pile of bodies now lay.
The others followed, but while the men searched, Olivia, Kara, and Skye stood together to one side. Olivia prayed they wouldn’t find their friends.
“Are they humans?” Kara asked.
“A couple are,” Olivia told her. “Or were. Most of the ones who went into that vortex were Mage.”
Delaney strode around the pile of bodies, her hands clasped on top of her head as if she struggled to hold herself together.
“Dudes!” one of the humans called. “Are you going to untie us, or what?”
Wulfe growled, circling close to where the women stood. “If he calls us ‘dudes’ one more time, I’m ripping his throat out.”
“They’re not here,” Lyon said finally. “Thank the goddess.”
Jag returned to Olivia, his expression grave. “Liv…” He raked his wet hair back from his face in an agitated, almost uncertain move, then hooked his arm through hers and led her away from the others. At the edge of the woods, he led her beneath a thick oak that sheltered them from most of the rain.
He turned her to face him. In his expression, in his eyes, she saw pain, and determination. And tender, blazing love.
Her heart skipped a beat, swelling until she thought it would no longer fit inside her chest.
A flash of devilment gleamed in his eyes, but never had that gleam stroked her with such gentleness. “I just want you to know, Red, I’m giving you fair warning. If it takes a thousand years, I’m going to prove to you that I’ve changed. That I’ve dealt with my past and let go of it, and am now focused only on the future. Our future.”
His fingers slid into her hair, his thumb caressing her cheek. “I’m going to be a man you could love, Olivia. Because I love you more than life.”
Olivia felt the tears begin to roll down her cheeks.
“I’ll never force you, Liv. At least not where it counts. You’re my mate. I know it. My animal knows it. And I pray to the goddess that someday you’ll know it.”
In his eyes, she saw the truth of his words. And if she had any doubt, his actions today had proved that truth over and over as he’d fought desperately to save her.
That light that had flared to life in her mind, the mating light, burned brightly, filling her with an endless glow of warmth and love.
She cocked her head. “They say a leopard can’t change his spots.”
“Liv…” The word ached.
She pressed her hand to his cheek and smiled at him with all the love in her heart. “It’s a good thing you’re not a leopard.”
He watched her, his gaze blazingly intent. “Does that mean you believe me?”
“Yes, I believe you. More than that, I love you, Jag.”
The tension flowed out of his features, joy rushing in. “You are my forever, Liv. There will never be anyone but you. And I’ll make you happy. I swear it.”
Olivia pressed her palms to his cheeks and drew his face down, kissing him, and he pulled her fully into his arms and held her tight. Her heart sang. She had no illusions that Jag would ever be a gentleman or ever be entirely tame. But that was fine with her.
She pulled back and slid his hair back with her fingers. “I need to be able to trust you and to know that you always have my back.” Her fingers trailed down his cheeks, and she leaned in and licked his nipple.
A purr rumbled in his chest, his body rising to her tease.
She pulled back and looked up at him with a devilish smile of her own. “But the last thing I want is a tame house cat.”
Jag began to laugh. And then he had her pressed back against the tree, his arms pinning her as he kissed her with a fierce tenderness that brought tears to her eyes.
When he pulled back, he framed her face with his hands, both hands now, his arms all but healed. “You were meant for me, Liv. I’ve waited my whole life for you.”
She looked into his eyes and saw no trace of the old guilt, anger, or hatred. She saw only love and devotion, and a hint of devilment that she hoped would never die.
In his eyes blazed a promise as deep as the ocean. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving that I was meant for you, too, Red.”
Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck as she stared into the eyes of the man she loved, the man who’d been destined to be her mate.
You were meant to live. Her father’s words whispered in her head from long ago. And deep in her heart she knew her entire existence had been leading her to this moment.
To Jag.
Epilogue
Firelight flickered over the dark-paneled walls and ceiling of the ritual room deep below Feral House two days later, the remnants of magic still charging the air. Still buzzing from an experience deeper, more intense, than anything he’d ever known, Jag lifted his precious mate down from the altar, where they’d opened themselves bodies, minds, and souls, binding themselves to one another for eternity.
Olivia’s glowing, loving eyes caressed his face as he set her on the ground, her own face flushed and radiant. With her bright red hair brushing the sheer blood red of the ritual gown, she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman who’d ever lived.
And she was his now. His.
His mate. His love. His life.
Around them, the other four Ferals, their chests bare, their armbands gleaming in the firelight, lifted their fists into the air, shouting their approval in a tradition as old as time. Watching from the other side of the room, their color high, their eyes bright, were the three Feral wives, Kara, Delaney, and Skye.
If not for the shitload of mess the Ferals found themselves in, with Foxx dead and Tighe and Hawke trapped where no one could reach them, this moment might just be perfect.
For the first time in centuries, Jag felt like he could breathe freely, without the terrible weight on his chest, a weight he’d never even realized he’d been carrying. Yes, he’d made mistakes, some terrible ones. But he’d never intentionally hurt anyone. And forgiving himself finally felt right. It felt…incredible.
Jag pulled Olivia against him, curving his arm across her strong, slender shoulders as the others gathered around to congratulate them.
Lyon clasped Jag, forearm to forearm, a smile flickering briefly over his features, for a moment lifting the grim concern that shone out of all their eyes. He turned and gave Olivia a kiss on the cheek.
“May the goddess bless this union forevermore,” Lyon said formally, then held out his hand to Olivia. When she placed hers in his much larger one
, he covered it with his other hand. “Jag said you were both fine with moving his bedchamber down here. I want to be certain you understand this isn’t a lack of trust but strictly a safety precaution in case you ever gain unintended strength again, and Jag’s not close enough to warn you.”
Olivia nodded. “I not only understand, Lyon, but I prefer it this way. We’ll both sleep better.”
The basement extended well beyond the footprint of the house, much of it unused space. Wulfe and Vhyper had procured enough lead-lined drywall to cover the walls of a nice-sized bedchamber. Yesterday, they’d installed it, then he and Olivia had run a test to see if it worked. It had. The lead blocked nearly all of her feeding. Even if she accidentally fed hard, only someone in the room with her, or possibly standing right outside the door, would be affected. And since Jag would be the only one sharing her bed, and he always felt her feed, that wouldn’t be a problem.
Jag squeezed Olivia’s shoulder. “We get a brand-new room without any damned sun to keep me awake after a hard night watching my mate fight the draden.”
She cut her eyes at him, pleasure dancing in their depths, making him grin. “And we can get as rough as we want without anyone beating down the door or pounding on the walls. What’s not to love about this arrangement?”
Jag met his chief’s gaze, turning serious. “Thanks, Lyon. You’ve accepted the woman I love, a woman with a gift most fear, and you’ve allowed us to remain under this roof when few would have the guts.”
Lyon nodded, then glanced down as Kara joined him, slipping his arm around his own mate. He turned back to Jag. “Olivia’s good for you. Her strength and unique skills are going to benefit all of us.”
Kara slipped out of Lyon’s hold and came to Jag, lifting up on tiptoe to place a soft kiss on his cheek. When she pulled away, a sweet smile wreathed her face and he felt a swelling of affection and pride for their beloved Radiant.
“I’m so happy for you, Jag.” She turned to include Olivia. “For both of you.”
Jag grinned at Kara even as he pulled Olivia tighter against his side. “Guess I’m going to be a good cat after all.”
Kara grinned.
Olivia laughed. “Goddess, I hope not.” She looked up at him, and as their eyes met, he melted inside, reborn by the depth of a love he’d never known existed. Deep in his mind, his jaguar purred.
Delaney joined them, her face pinched from worry for her mate, yet her eyes, as she looked at Olivia, were warm and welcoming. Skye joined them, a soft smile on her face.
Kara took Olivia’s hand. “Jag, we need to borrow your wife. There’s one more ritual we need to perform before we get out of these gowns and get comfortable.”
Olivia’s brow rose. “What kind of ritual?”
Kara lifted her eyebrows impishly. “No blood involved, I promise. The Feral sisterhood initiates with champagne.”
“In a glass,” Delaney clarified.
“The Feral sisterhood?” Olivia asked, her voice taking on a note of soft vulnerability that made Jag’s chest ache. So many years she’d been alone with her secret. Years when necessity had required her to keep others at a distance, emotionally if not physically.
Delaney smiled. “You thought you were just getting a mate in this deal?” She shook her head. “You just got yourself three sisters.”
“If you want,” Skye added softly.
Olivia glanced at him, her eyes filled with tears and wonder. They knew what she was. They knew what she could do. Yet offered her sisterhood.
She slid out of his hold. “I want.” Her words caught, a pair of tears escaping to roll down her cheeks.
As one, the other three women enveloped her in a feminine group hug. All, he saw, had tears in their eyes. And the last piece clicked into place. She’d be happy here. He knew it, now. And there was nothing he wanted more than Olivia’s happiness.
As if hearing his thoughts, she turned to him as the hug ended, pressing her palm to his cheek.
“Do you know how much I love you?”
“A shitload.” He grinned at her, but damn if he didn’t feel water in his own eyes. “Maybe even as much as I love you.” He blinked back the moisture and gave her a quick kiss, then cleared his throat. “Now, go do your sisterhood thing, just don’t forget about dinner, you four! Pink’s preparing a feast up there.”
As the women left the room, arms linked, Lyon and Paenther joined him, one on either side, watching the women go.
“They make you weaker than you ever thought possible,” Lyon murmured, slinging his arm across Jag’s shoulders in a surprising move of friendship.
Paenther nodded, draping his arm over Lyon’s. “And stronger.”
Slowly, with a feeling of rightness, Jag lifted his hands to embrace each of their shoulders as well.
Teammates they’d always been. Fellow warriors and little more. But with the crumbling of his inner walls, friendship had taken root. And more.
“She makes my life complete,” Jag said.
And the other two made sounds of agreement, understanding.
Friendship.
Brotherhood.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to all the wonderful and talented people at Avon Books for their effort and support, especially May Chen, Amanda Bergeron, Pamela Spengler-Jaffee, and Wendy Ho. Working with you ladies is a delight. And a special thanks to Thomas Egner and his team for my amazing covers.
As always, thanks to Laurin and Annie, the godmothers to all my books. This journey would be so much more difficult and so much less fun without your keen eyes, incredible instincts, humor, and friendship. Sisters forever!
Thanks to Kim, Emily, and Misono for all your hard work on my behalf.
And a huge, warm thanks to my readers for your incredible enthusiasm, and for falling in love with these dark, dangerous shifters as much as I have. You make the long hours in front of the computer a joy. A special shout-out to the gang on the pamelapalmer.net BB. You guys rock!
To Keith, my real-life hero, and to my friends and family, my love and deepest gratitude. For everything.
About the Author
When New York Times bestselling author PAMELA PALMER’s initial career goal of captaining starships didn’t pan out, she turned to engineering, satisfying her desire for adventure with books and daydreams, until finally succumbing to the need to create worlds of her own. Pamela lives and writes in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. Please visit her on the web at www.pamelapalmer.net.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
By Pamela Palmer
RAPTURE UNTAMED
PASSION UNTAMED
OBSESSION UNTAMED
DESIRE UNTAMED
Coming Soon
HUNGER UNTAMED
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
RAPTURE UNTAMED. Copyright © 2010 by Pamela Poulsen. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
First Avon Books paperback printing: July 2010
EPub Edition © May 2010 ISBN: 978-0-06-200025-5
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Feral warrior 4- Rapture Untamed Page 26