For long minutes, he held her wrapped around him, her body melting into his, soft and warm. When he thought he could move again, he pulled out of her, set her on her feet, and kissed her, then grabbed his jeans and dressed.

Life was so unpredictable. For decades, little had changed. He'd spent his life fighting draden, studying whatever subject intrigued him, taking the occasional lover or two. For the most part, he'd lived a calm, predictable immortal life until a few months ago when they'd realized that the Mage were trying to free the Daemons. Ever since, he'd felt as if things were spiraling out of control, but never more than the past few weeks, the past few days. Now he found himself in the center of a vortex, the love of his life in his arms, and death stalking him, trying to rip him from his animal. Heaven and hell snaring him at once.

He finished dressing, watching as Faith tied her shoes and rose to stand before him, her eyes once more sparkling, her mouth swollen from his kisses and lifted in a smile of love and feminine satisfaction. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, brushing the hair back from her beloved face. Then he took her hand and opened the door before he was tempted to strip off her clothes all over again.

Together, they went in search of Kougar and found him standing in the doorway of the media room, talking with Fox. As Hawke approached, Faith at his side, the distinct scent of pine caught his nose. A second later, two wraithlike females appeared in the hallway, then quickly took corporeal form. Ariana, Kougar's mate, and the ever-scowling Melisande.

Faith's hand tightened in his and he squeezed hers gently. The Ilinas definitely took some getting used to. As Kougar went to his mate, Fox stepped over to join Hawke and Faith.

"Amazing that they still exist, isn't it?" Fox asked quietly. "She's a fine thing, the blonde."

Hawke glanced at the fox shifter, seeing a predatory look in his eyes that had him shaking his head. "That's Melisande. Apparently, she tried to kill Lyon a couple of weeks ago."

"And he let her live?"

"That was my reaction the first time I heard. It was something of a misunderstanding, and they've called a truce. Of sorts. But the woman apparently has a chip on her shoulder the size of the South Pole when it comes to Ferals. That one's trouble with a capital T."

"Chips can be knocked off."

Faith snorted beside him. "So can heads."

Fox chuckled low. "She hasn't met the right Feral yet, is all."

Hawke shook his head, but he smiled. "You'd have more luck taming a tornado."

Kougar pulled away from his mate and turned to them. "Fox, Faith, I'd like you to meet Ariana, Queen of the Ilinas and my mate. And her second, Melisande."

As expected, Melisande scowled, but Ariana strode forward dressed in jeans and low boots, looking and acting entirely too human for a queen whose castle sat, literally, in the clouds. Then again, she'd spent the last millennium unable to turn to mist, living as a human. When Kougar had found her again, she'd been working as a maternity nurse in a hospital in downtown Baltimore.

"Hi, Hawke. How are you doing?"

Other than the fact that my bird has turned against me and the woman I'm in love with has just been marked to be one of the guardians of the race without a single skill to keep her alive in battle?

"I'm fine, thank you, Ariana. And you?"

She smiled radiantly and glanced at Kougar. "I've never been better. I'm glad you're back with the living. And the conscious."

"I have you to thank for that."

"I'm glad I was able to help."

Hawke put his hand on Faith's shoulder. "This is Faith."

Ariana shook Faith's hand, then turned to Fox. "You're one of the new Ferals?"

Fox nodded. "I am. Faith and I both are."

Ariana's brows shot up, the smile she turned on Faith delighted and genuine. "About time. If you'll excuse me?" She turned back to Kougar. "Where's the Shaman? I understand we have work to do."

As she strode back to where she'd left her mate and her second, Fox fell into step beside her, stopping before the blonde. "Melisande, is it?" he asked, the Irish lilt in his voice suddenly more pronounced. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

Melisande stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, but a hint of color rose in her cheeks. Interesting.

Fox held out his hand to her. "I'm Fox, Melisande. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Melisande's eyes narrowed, her mouth tilting up in a mockery of a smile. "That's what you think."

"Mel," Ariana said, her tone part plea, part warning. But from what little he'd seen of Melisande, and what he'd been told, the blond Ilina was a law unto herself.

To prove the point, she appeared to fling something at Fox, probably the bolt of energy that he'd heard could drive even a Feral to his knees in pain. But the sound that escaped Fox's throat wasn't a sound of pain. More like pure, unadulterated rapture, like a man in the throes of orgasm. His back arched, his head falling back, his mouth opening wide. And when he recovered enough to close his mouth and stare at Melisande, the grin on his face was that of a hunter who'd just sighted the prey he'd been searching for, for a long, long time.

Melisande's jaw dropped in horror. In an instant, she turned to mist and disappeared.

Ariana and Kougar both stared at Fox, who started laughing like a man who'd just discovered the secrets of the universe.

"What did you do to her?" Kougar asked, genuine amazement creeping into his tone.

Fox shook his head, golden hair brushing his shoulders. "I've no bloody idea."

"Watch your step," Ariana warned kindly. "Melisande is a good person, but she has a violent and justified hatred of Therians. While she's obligated to honor my alliance with the Ferals, she's unpredictable. She won't try to kill you. But that's about all I can guarantee. And if you hurt her, even that's off the table."

"Point taken." But the roguish look on Fox's smiling face made Hawke suspect Melisande was the one who'd better watch her back. And maybe even her heart.

"Hi, Ariana." Kara descended the stairs, looking tired.

Hawke took Faith's hand, thinking this was a good time to make a hasty exit. He'd been avoiding Kara for days now, not wanting Lyon to realize just how bad things were getting. But as he turned to go, Lyon stopped him.

"Hawke, you haven't had radiance in a couple of days."

"I'm fine, Roar."

"Radiance, Wings. Now."

Hell. Though maybe it would be okay this time. Maybe he really was getting better. There was one way to find out. He gave Faith a quick kiss, then released her and joined Kara and Lyon. Fox and Kougar stepped forward, and each of them grabbed one of Kara's arms or ankles. Hawke curled his hand around Kara's wrist, holding his breath. It'll be fine. He prayed it was true.

As Kara went radiant, lighting up like the sun, radiance zapped him, and he arched back, contorting like a man electrocuted. Faith and Kara cried out in unison, Kara's light going out as someone yanked his hand away from her.

"Dammit!" Lyon grabbed him when swayed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Hawke didn't answer. His jaw felt welded shut.

"Let me see your feral marks," his chief demanded even as he turned him and yanked his shirt up his back, exposing his right shoulder. "They're fading."

Hawke's heart sank as the last hope that he and his hawk would ultimately heal died. As his jaw slowly released, he turned to face Lyon. The grief in his friend's eyes punched him hard. Lyon had known him since the day he was born. He'd helped raise him. They all had.

But when Faith came to him, wrapping her arms around him, it was the tears and grief in her eyes that slew him. Who would protect her when he was gone? Who would champion her?

Who would love her as she deserved and needed to be loved?

He'd known he was getting worse, known that if he and his hawk didn't reconnect, he'd eventually die. But until that moment, he hadn't felt it deep in his gut. Now he did. His fading feral marks were proof.

His immortal life was nearing its end.

"We have a plan," Ariana announced several hours later.

The nine were gathered around the war room's huge conference table along with their wives. And Faith. Hawke glanced at her, seated beside him. Her face was flushed, her hair damp and curling slightly at her temples, her scent the delicate musk of clean sweat, making him think of slick, hot bodies rolling in the sheets . . . or clinging to one another in the library. But the workout he'd been putting her through for the past few hours hadn't been sexual. He'd designated himself her personal trainer and had been running her through the house, ordering her to drop and do push-ups, sit-ups, whatever he could think of, until she was glaring at him as if she were about to start throwing knives again. This time at him.

Which was okay. He wanted her strong and ready when the time came to prove her worth to Lyon and the others. Even if she hadn't been the one meant to be marked, he suspected the Ferals would ultimately accept into their permanent ranks any of the new Ferals who could prove themselves to be genuine assets. And Hawke was determined that Faith would do that. It was the one thing he wanted before his time was up. To leave her safe.

"The Shaman remembered an ancient ritual performed long ago by one of my Ilina predecessors. Since I possess most of the memories of the Ilina queens who came before me, I've been searching for the right one. We think I've found it, but it's going to take a special magic - a magic that can only be accessed in the Cave of the Mystics."

The Shaman was grinning. "That cave was lost millennia ago. At least to those of us who can't turn to mist. Ariana assures me that she and her maidens can take us there."

"Ilina travel? I'd rather regrow my legs again," Jag muttered. He and Paenther had gotten back about an hour ago, good as new.

"What about your cock?" Vhyper asked.

"No." The word sounded strangled. "Not that. I'd take misting back and forth all day before I'd go through that again."

"Where is this cave?" Lyon asked.

"African Sahara." The Shaman folded his hands on the table in front of him. "The cave and its power are as old as time. If we can access it, I believe we can cure the new Ferals of this dark magic."

Lyon nodded. "Good."

Vhyper grunted, tugging on his earring. "Do we want to cure them all? Sabertooth sounds like he was a nasty piece of work long before he was marked." Hawke was no longer the only one who refused to give Maxim the respect of his Feral name. No one referred to him as Catt anymore.

"A valid question." Lyon paced. "The Georgetown enclave is working on digging up information on the men who were marked. They've already sent me what they've found on Lynks and Grizz. Lynks has been a member of his French enclave for twenty-two years, mostly in the capacity of cook. He's well enough liked and puts a lot of time into the local human community, working with children. Grizz is a little more problematic. He's portrayed as a loner with a reputation for causing trouble, which comes as no real surprise."

"Hey." Jag shrugged. "Someone has to cause the trouble. This place is going to get dull with me all happy and shit."

Fox snorted. "You just got chomped in half by a gator fighting beside a saber-toothed cat. If this is dull, I'd hate to see exciting."

Lyon cleared his voice. "Unfortunately, the kind of trouble Grizz causes isn't the verbal kind. He leads with his fists."

"Who are his targets? Humans or immortals?" Tighe asked.

"Both." That kind of force from an immortal tended to be deadly against humans.

"He may have a good reason," Kara said.

Lyon nodded. "I agree. But he's not just a man anymore. In addition to being a Feral, he's a dangerous grizzly when he chooses to be. That could work to our advantage or to our detriment. Even clear of the infection, I don't know if he can be trusted to protect our backs. I don't know if he can be trusted with our women." He rubbed his hand across his mouth, his tone and body language as undecided as Hawke had ever seen them. "I'm putting this up for a vote. We either cure him, welcome him into our ranks, and trust him until proved wrong. Or we kill him. Tonight. And let the grizzly spirit mark another."

Silence fell over the room. To Hawke's knowledge, such a vote had never been taken, certainly not in recent centuries. But never before had they had reason to doubt that the right Therian had been marked to be a Feral.

His gut soured at the realization it could be Faith's life voted on next.

Wulfe was the first to speak. "I think we should give him a chance. He could have killed half of us out there when the new Ferals turned on us, and he didn't. He fought it, Roar. He let us cut off all four of his legs. Let. Us. Despite his anger-management issues, there's honor in him. And strength of every kind."

"I agree," Fox said. "I spent the night in your prison listening to Lynks scream with pain as he regrew his legs. Grizz never made a sound but for a constant low growl until, through that mind speak, he asked me who'd died, who was injured. He didn't seem to care when I told him Eigle was gone. But when I told him Jag and Paenther might not make it, he howled with a fury that I thought would bring the ceiling crashing down on us."

"I don't have anything against giving a guy a chance," Tighe said quietly, "But neither of you have wives. Or a child on the way."

"Tighe's right. Those of us without mates . . ." Wulfe's gaze turned and met Hawke's. "Or women here we care about . . . shouldn't vote. I won't be responsible if something happens. It has to be on your heads, not ours."