He lifted a hand to her face. "If I did, it would all be over long before it began."
Her mouth turned up into a wicked smile. "Maybe I'm not kissing you where it counts."
She turned to slide her hand down the plane of his stomach until those warm fingers curled around his erection, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. Bending over, she presented him with a first-class view, nearly sending him over the edge when her delicate tongue flicked out and stroked the slit at the tip of him.
"Kara." He slid his hand over the lush, soft flesh of her buttocks, then between her legs, touching her, being drenched by her.
The stroke of her tongue was beyond paradise, beyond erotic, and he knew he wasn't going to last a minute longer.
"Kara, I have to have you. Now."
She was under him in three seconds flat, spreading her thighs, sliding her hands over his shoulders as she welcomed him. He met her gaze, embraced by those blue depths even before he pushed against her slick opening. As he buried himself inside her, her mouth dropped open, her eyes heavy with pleasure, her back arching. But her gaze never left his. Her eyes darkened with desire as she clung to him and softened with an emotion that warmed him, filled him, until he thought his heart couldn't contain it all.
With each thrust, she rose to meet him as he stroked her deeper than the time before, lifted on the rising tide of her passion, riding the storm of his own. Her hands slid up his neck, her fingers digging frantically into his hair as gasps of growing pleasure escaped her throat with each hard meeting of their bodies.
"Lyon," she cried, and he felt the storm breaking over her. "Lyon."
The storm ripped him from his moorings, and he felt himself tumbling in after her—into her eyes, into her body, into her soul—the release like nothing he'd ever experienced. He felt destroyed, demolished, shattered. And utterly and totally reborn.
"Kara." As the last of her contractions milked him, he kissed her, needing to taste her, needing to be joined with her in a thousand ways. When his tongue stroked hers, she turned her head, breaking the kiss on a musical peal of exhausted joy.
"Lyon, I can't," she gasped, her eyes smiling at him. "I can't come again."
"You can." He made a sound of satisfaction deep in his throat, knowing that in this moment, she was his. Completely. Her body the finest of instruments tuned to his touch. He kissed her cheek as she had his. Then her eye. And nose.
Then he drank of the smile he'd put on her lips and slowly ran his tongue across the same, drawing a gasp from her, making the hard knots of her tight breasts press against his chest.
He ran his tongue around the curve of her ear, and that single stroke was all it took to send her back over the edge. Deep inside, her body squeezed him over and over, as her hot gasps bathed his lips, hardening him all over again. He pulled out and shoved himself inside her welcoming body, and she met him thrust for thrust, as ready for him a second time as he was for her.
She stared up into his eyes, her own silently mirroring the longing, the devotion, the beauty of what they'd just shared. And as they crested a second time, she said, "I love you, Lyon."
His beast purred as her words soaked into his heart, but the fear that she wasn't his reached in to pluck away his pleasure. He rolled onto his back, still buried inside her, cradling Kara against his heart.
As her heartbeat raced with his, he stroked the warm, damp silk of her back with one hand while the other buried itself deep in her hair, sliding against her small, precious head. A vicious protectiveness rose inside him as his gut contracted over the thought of losing her.
Mine.
"You're mine, Lyon," she said, as if she'd heard that desperate inner voice of his. "I know you're mine."
"We can't be sure." Despite the certainty of his beast.
She tucked her hand beneath her chin. "How soon do you think we can do another Pairing?"
He stroked her back, wishing he could stay here, like this, for the rest of his life. He sighed, thinking. "As soon as the Shaman clears the house of any dark charms, we'll know if it was those affecting my men or the lack of radiance. If it's the latter, I'm not sure how we're going to do it. I'm not endangering you."
"We may not have a choice, but I guess we can figure that out once the Shaman's done."
"I agree." He kissed her head and held her close.
She might never be his to hold like this again, but that didn't mean he wouldn't watch over her, and protect her, and cafe for her from a distance. No one would ever hurt her again.
He would die before he let that happen.
Kara's gaze took in the long, narrow interior of a comfortably decorated house as she followed Lyon down the stairs a short while later. As they'd dressed, Lyon had told her this house actually looked like a row of town houses from the outside, while inside it was open, with passages running from one end of the block to the other. The Therians had lived here for well over a century.
Her hand brushed the fashionable pastel floral skirt the Therian, Marina, had loaned her along with a long-sleeved coordinated blue sweater. These people might live for centuries, but they kept up with the fashions.
Paenther met them as they reached the bottom step. Lyon extended his arm in greeting and Paenther accepted the greeting with a bow of his head. But when Lyon released him, Paenther's attention went to her.
His usually hard eyes were nothing short of sad. "I'm sorry, Kara. For not protecting you. For believing you were the enemy."
Kara reached for his hand and squeezed it. "It wasn't your fault, Paenther. I didn't even know if I was Mage or not."
Paenther lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. Not as a chivalrous act, but as an act of deep contrition.
"I'll make it up to you. I'll find a way."
Kara smiled. "Just give me the benefit of the doubt next time, and we'll call it even."
To her amazement, his mouth twisted into what could almost be called a lopsided smile. "You have a deal."
As they started into the main living area, Jag joined them. His eyebrow lifting with surprise as Lyon extended his arm. Jag clasped Lyon's arm in return.
"Chief," Jag said. His gaze slid to her. "You're looking better. Got a little color in those cheeks." He glanced down at the floor, then up at Lyon in a way that told Kara he wasn't sure about what he was about to say. "I'd like to speak to our Radiant for a minute." His jaw clenched, but his eyes remained uncertain. "Alone."
She felt Lyon tense, but he glanced at her with a lift of his eyebrow.
Kara nodded.
"You won't be out of my sight," Lyon promised her.
Jag reached for her, then seemed to think better of it and dropped his hand. "How about we stand by the window over there where the king of beasts can keep my hide in the crosshairs?"
He led her toward the window, then turned and glanced back at Lyon before meeting her gaze.
"Here's the thing, Radiant. Kara. I owe you a humongous apology. I may shift into a jaguar, but I'm a jackass, through and through. Always have been." His mouth twisted. "I'm sure any of the others will agree."
He propped his hip on the back of the sofa behind him and crossed his arms. "We haven't had the best luck with Radiants. I didn't much like either of your last two predecessors, and I didn't expect to like you. I suppose when I first saw you in the media room, I wanted to let you know that in my own charming way."
He smiled at her, but there was no humor in his eyes. There was something about him that made her think he didn't like himself very much.His smile died, and his eyes turned hard. "I saw what Vhyper did to you. That snake lost it." He looked away, shaking his head with revulsion. "I'm just saying… I'm sorry for being an ass in the way I treated you. You're okay." He said the last as if he were surprised. "Not only have you tamed the beast…" His glance flicked to Lyon as if he knew exactly what they'd been doing upstairs.
Kara's cheeks heated.
"But you won Pink over, too, and I'm kind of fond of the bird. She sent me to the grocery yesterday to get a surprise for you for your Ascension celebration."
"Really?" Kara smiled. Pink had forgiven her. "I'm glad to know that, Jag. Thank you." She had an instant's temptation to give him a hug, hesitated, then gave in to it. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around his lean, hard waist.
He hugged her back, then tugged on a loose lock of her hair when she pulled away. "See? I can be a good cat."
She laughed. "When you want to be."
He winked at her. "Don't tell anyone." He rose. "Come get some breakfast. Marina's doing waffles. I'm not usually into bread, but her waffles are a treat."
As Kara started back with Jag, Lyon waited for her, his eyes guarded. "Everything okay?"
She smiled. "Perfect."
At Lyon's hooded glare, Jag lifted his hands in surrender as he passed, chuckling.
Lyon shook his head and laid his hand on her shoulder. "Get breakfast. I have some things I need to do."
She nodded and followed Jag, who was entering the kitchen in the middle of the open house. Tighe was already there, seated before a plate piled high with bacon and eggs.
When he saw her, he stood and opened his arms to her, leaving the choice up to her.
With a smile, she accepted his hug. "Hi, Tighe."
"Hi, yourself." When she pulled back, he gripped her shoulders and held her in front of him, his smile dying as he inspected her. "You look a hundred times better than the last time I saw you. I never thought anyone could be that pale." He squeezed her shoulders. "Are you feeling better?" His mouth kicked up, a small gleam entering his eyes. Apparently everyone knew the Shaman had ordered her penetrated.
"I'm feeling much better, thank you," she said primly. But she flashed him a smile that said she knew full well what he'd been asking.
"Roar!"
Tighe was just pulling out a chair for her when Paenther's shout made them all freeze.
The two men beside her started forward, then as one, turned back to her. Jag grabbed her hand and pulled her with them to where Paenther waited in the foyer.
As they rounded the corner, three men she'd never seen before were entering the house, two large men helping a youth with long, dark hair and old-fashioned clothes who looked like he was drunk. Or drugged. Behind them, was Hawke.
"What happened, Shaman?" Lyon demanded.
To her surprise, it was the youth Lyon addressed. A man he'd told her was ancient.
Without looking at her, Lyon reached for her hand, took her from Jag, and pulled her against his side.
The Therians pressed the Shaman into one of two upholstered chairs in the wide foyer, then backed away as the Ferals pushed forward. The Shaman's head tipped against the wall behind him, his body shaking, his flesh white as snow.
"I couldn't get near the house. Halfway up your front walk, I passed out. Hawke drove me back."
"Magic?" Lyon asked. His hand tightened around hers.
"Yes. Stronger than I've felt in millennia. Old magic. And woven throughout that magic…"His gaze rose to pin her. "I felt your Radiant."
* * *
Chapter Twenty
Lyon's blood went cold, a warning growl rumbling deep in his throat as he pulled Kara in front of him and wrapped both arms around her, ready to protect her with his life.
"You said she was innocent."
"I did. Innocent, yes. But I felt her in the magic, and I believe the Mage… for this is clearly a Mage attack… has been using her. The cantric you found in her was doing more than I thought it was. More than it should have been able to."
"There's a Mage in Feral House?" Lyon roared.
"Yes. A strong one. No one else could wield that kind of magic."
Lyon looked at Paenther. "Let's go."
The Shaman held up his hand. "Wait, Warrior. This attack isn't new. The magic I felt has been there for months. If you haven't found it before now, you're not likely to."
Lyon snarled. "You want me to let the Mage have Feral House?"
"No." His weak gaze went to Kara. "There's another way. She holds the key."
Lyon shook his head, knowing where this was headed. "No mind-skinning. She's been through enough." He looked at his men. "We're going out there. Now."
Jag snorted. "We're going to waltz into a full-scale Mage attack without any clue what's going on? Sounds like a hell of a plan."
Lyon glared at him. "I'm not forsaking my men."
"So said the seventeen," Jag muttered.
A strained silence blanketed the foyer.
"What's the seventeen?" Kara asked, breaking the silence.
Lyon's jaw clenched. "Centuries ago, seventeen Ferals were lost in three days."
Kara turned her head to look up at him. "Seventeen? But I thought there were only nine of you."
"There are now," Tighe said. "There were almost thirty at that point. Six warriors walked into a cave they'd never seen before and never came out. Over the course of the next two days, eleven more went into that cave searching for them, every man certain he'd be the one to save the others. The last group included the chief. He gave direct orders to Lyon, his second, that if he failed to return, no more would enter. None did. Fourteen days later the bodies of the seventeen men littered the ground outside the cave. Apparently unharmed, yet quite dead."
"I thought new Ferals were marked when the old ones died, just as new Radiants are."