When they’d first dragged this latest group of new Ferals down here, they’d discussed whether they should keep them in the dark about what was going on. The trouble was, they empathized with these men. And if the day came when they could free this group, bring them into their animals, and call them “brother,” they wanted to know they’d treated them as fairly as possible under these very trying circumstances.

“Inir is attempting to turn the blood he stole from Kara into unascended Radiant’s blood,” Wulfe told Castin. If their situations had been reversed, he’d be hungry for information, too. “It’s the prime ingredient he needs to open the Daemon Blade once the Ferals cease to register, but you probably know that as well as anyone.”

Just as a Feral had to be brought into his animal through ritual, so too did a new Radiant have to be ascended to her power. Months ago, Inir had arranged for their previous Radiant, Beatrice, to be killed so that the new one could be blooded before she was ascended, and that blood used to open the Daemon Blade. Not until the last minute had the Ferals figured out what was happening and thwarted that scheme.

“What are you doing to stop Inir?” Rikkert demanded from the next cell. The male had been bad-tempered from the moment he’d arrived.

“We’re working to get our immortality back, boyo,” Fox answered. “Jag lost the shift, or didn’t you hear? He can no longer access his animal. Inir has us over a barrel until we can reverse the effects of his dark charm.”

Wulfe passed three sandwiches to Rikkert, then moved to the last cell. The third male had arrived at Feral House a little over a week ago, hailing from Kenya. He’d said little when they’d explained the situation and forced him into the prison. He’d said nothing since. Wulfe didn’t even know his name.

The male rose and took the sandwiches with a nod, his dark eyes piercing, his expression enigmatic.

“One other thing,” Fox said as he handed out water bottles to the three prisoners. “We got a call from Lepard. Apparently he and Grizz are out West somewhere hunting for a woman who’s said to be able to see into a man’s soul. If they find her, they’ll bring her to us. Hopefully, she’ll be able to tell us which of our new Ferals were meant to be marked.”

Wulfe looked at him with surprise. “So they didn’t run.”

“No. They’re helping in their own way.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Castin said something in a language Wulfe didn’t recognize, a fervent string of words that sounded like a prayer of thanksgiving. Rikkert just grunted. The newest Feral said nothing, as usual.

Wulfe led the way back upstairs, feeling more hopeful for the males in the prison than he had on the way down. Being marked to be a Feral Warrior, to finally, after a lifetime, be able to shift as you were born to do, should be the greatest of honors. Wulfe himself had found absolution and salvation in his own marking.

“Daemon?” The word brushed across Wulfe’s mind, startling him.

“What is it, boyo?” Fox asked behind him.

“Nothing.” Fuck. He waited for it to happen again, but he heard nothing more. What in the hell was happening?

The only thing he knew absolutely, positively for certain . . . it was far from nothing.

Natalie stood at the window, gazing at the vehicles that lined the Ferals’ circular drive—a bright yellow Hummer, a white Land Rover, and a low-slung sports car that she thought might be a Lamborghini, among them—as she waited for Wulfe to collect her for the spirit raising. Beyond the drive, the woods rose on all sides, and not far beyond them, she knew, lay the Potomac River and the horizontal falls for which Great Falls had been named.

She wondered if she’d ever be allowed to leave the house, to see them again. Xavier’s days of freedom were over, and the knowledge made her ache. No matter how happy he seemed to be, he was trapped here, unable to leave for fear of being recognized. He might never leave this house again.

But he was alive. Dear God, her brother was alive. Despite her concerns, her heart soared. She’d awakened to a bright, sunny day, to the sight of a gorgeous male with the sweetest smile, and in the house where Xavier now lived. It was a glorious day, and she would rejoice in every single moment.

The rap she’d been waiting for finally sounded on her door.

“Come in,” she called, turning away from the window. She was halfway across the room when the door swung open.

Wulfe’s gaze skimmed her body, taking in her jeans, her green T-shirt with the pretty detailing, and her sandals, setting off little flares of warmth along the way. Slowly, he looked up, meeting her gaze, a smile in his eyes that burrowed deep down inside her. Other men had looked at her over the years, but never before had she felt as if they really saw her. And Wulfe did.

“Ready?” he asked, a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Ready.” Natalie returned his smile as she joined him. The warmth of his body wrapped around her, his masculine scent filling her nostrils. As they started down the hall, side by side, electricity arced through the air between them, making Natalie catch her breath. Glancing at Wulfe, she found him watching her with eyes that leaped with an answering awareness.

Natalie swallowed.

Wulfe frowned and took her arm, gently pulling her around to face him. Slowly, he lifted his hand, his knuckles caressing her cheek, making her pulse race and her body melt with longing.

“I can’t give you what you want,” he said, his voice low, rough, aching. With fingers shaking ever so slightly, he stroked her neck. “I can’t make love to you.”

“Can’t?” she asked breathlessly. “Or don’t want to?”

“Can’t.” He leaned in, his nose brushing the curve of her neck, his soft, fragrant hair caressing her cheek, sending her pulse into overdrive. He made a sound deep in his throat, half-human, half-wolf, a low rumble of pleasure. It took every bit of control she possessed not to weave her fingers into his hair and lift his face for her kiss.

He pulled away suddenly with a look of chagrin. “They’re waiting for us,” he said gruffly, and started back down the hall.

Natalie caught up to him, more confused than before, yet elated. Wulfe wanted her. Something was holding him back, but he wanted her. And that was all she needed to know.

Her step was light as they reached the stairs and started down. “After this ritual, do you think we can scare up a cup of coffee?”

“We’ll grab it on the way out.”

As they reached the foyer, they had to merge with the steady stream of people passing by.

“Quite a crowd today,” she murmured.

One of the women heard her and smiled. “The Guards have been invited to watch the Ferals shift. We wouldn’t miss it.”

Wulfe and Natalie joined the stream, following the others down the hall and into the dining room. Through the back windows, Natalie caught a glimpse of a brick patio and heavily treed yard quickly filling with people.

“Do I have time to say hello to Xavier?” she asked.

“Sure. They won’t start without me. And Lyon hasn’t brought Kara down, yet.”

Wulfe led her to the swinging door she’d watched Xavier come through last night, and into a first-class kitchen with granite countertops and gleaming appliances. Xavier was busy kneading dough. The joy that pulsed inside of her as her gaze took in his beloved, contented face was so great it was a moment before she noticed the extraordinary creature standing behind him, stirring a pot on the stove. The woman appeared to be part human, part bird, with . . . my God . . . pink feathers instead of skin.

The bird-woman turned and stared at Natalie. In unblinking bird-shaped eyes, Natalie saw a terrible self-consciousness, an almost palpable fear of rejection. Empathy curled around her heart. This was clearly Pink.

“X, your sister’s here,” Wulfe said.

“Hey, Nat!” Her brother turned toward the door.

“Hey, Xave.” But her gaze remained riveted on those tense, unblinking eyes. Natalie smiled. “You must be Pink. You have quite a fan in my brother. I’m happy to finally make your acquaintance.”

Xavier reached for the bird-woman without hesitation, his hand clasping a feathered arm. “Pink, this is my sister, Natalie. And, yeah, I’m a fan. Pink does all the cooking and cleaning around here, or she used to when there weren’t so many people. I’m her helper, now.”

Natalie met Pink’s gaze with a rueful look. “This place is mobbed. I don’t know how you do it all, even with help.”

Pink’s stiffness eased a little. “Most of our guests are temporary, and we’re managing. It’s a pleasure to meet Xavier’s sister.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m delighted that Xavier has you as a friend, Pink.” The truth of that statement hit her hard, because it was more than clear that a good deal of the reason Xavier radiated such contentment with his captivity was due to Pink. She met the woman’s gaze, letting her see her thoughts and emotion. “You have no idea,” she said quietly, and smiled.

“Are you going to watch the Ferals shift this morning, Nat?” Her brother launched into one of his dear and familiar rambles. “It’s so cool when they shift, though a little scary when they fight like that, but then they’re best friends again, usually, except for the evil Ferals, but they’re all with Inir, now, or maybe in the prisons below Feral House. We’re not sure about those guys. It was scary as shit when the evil Ferals attacked. We weren’t sure what they were going to do. Pink and I hid, then the bad guys ran to Inir, and the good guys finally healed and came back.”

Natalie shook her head with a smile. “You must be a good listener, Pink, because my brother can talk the ears off an elephant. Mom likes to tease that he came out of the womb talking, that she had to buy him a pacifier just to get a little quiet.”

Xavier laughed at the old joke. “What can I say? Active mind, active mouth.”

As the two women’s gazes met, Natalie watched a small smile form on that remarkable face. “I enjoy Xavier’s thoughts. He’s my friend.”

Gratitude welled up inside Natalie, and she started around the island that separated her from the pair, talking as she went so that Xavier could follow her movement. “It’s no wonder you’re happy here, Xave.” Natalie gave her brother a hard hug, meeting Pink’s gaze over his shoulder. Thank you, she mouthed, earning a sweet smile.

As she released her brother, Pink held out her hand to her. “I am very pleased to meet you, Natalie.”

Natalie took that soft, feathered hand between both of hers. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“We need to go,” Wulfe said from the doorway. “Later, X and Pink.”

Natalie followed him back to the dining room. As the kitchen door swung closed behind them, she glanced at Wulfe. “She’s amazing.”

He watched her with eyes like velvet. “So are you.”

“Natalie,” a woman’s voice called softly from a short distance away.

Wulfe turned. “Kara.”

Lyon slowed his walk through the dining room, the woman in his arms holding out her hand toward Natalie. She appeared wan, with dark circles under her eyes, her blond hair pulled back in a lifeless ponytail. But as she gazed at Natalie, she smiled warmly.

Natalie took the proffered hand. “You must be Kara. Wulfe says we met the last time I was here, but I’m afraid I have no memory of that visit.”

Kara’s smile turned rueful. “That’s what they were hoping. I’m sorry you’ve been pulled back into all this.”

“I’m not.” And she realized that was true. “I know I probably won’t be able to keep these memories, either, but it’s worth everything to see my brother again and see him so happy.” She glanced at Wulfe, a welling of pleasure filling her chest. “This is turning out to be quite an adventure.”

Kara laughed. “Everything the Ferals touch turns into an adventure.”

“Funny,” a Feral she hadn’t met said, joining them from the hallway. “I’d say everything we touch turns into a goat fuck.”

“Jag, watch your language,” Lyon snapped.

The shaggy-haired warrior grinned unrepentantly. “Sorry, ladies. I just call ’em like I see ’em. Are we ready to start this war dance? The sooner Kara stops looking like death warmed over, the better.”

“Thanks, Jag.” Kara met Natalie’s gaze with a wry smile.

Jag leaned over and kissed Kara’s cheek, his gaze turning stone-cold serious. “I mean it, little lightbulb. I want you getting better. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Jag.” Kara looped her free arm around his neck and pressed her cheek to his. “Thank you.”

When Jag had stepped back, Wulfe reached for Kara’s hand and brought it to his lips, earning himself a sweet smile. Then Lyon started forward again, heading for the back doors. “Let’s get started.”

Wulfe grabbed Natalie’s hand and led her to the sideboard laden with coffee mugs and industrial-sized coffeepots. “First things first.”

“Mmm, thank you.” She threw him a grin as she grabbed one of the cups and was rewarded with a pleased smile.

“How many will actually take part in this?” she asked, pouring herself a cup of the steaming brew.

“Ten Ferals and Kara since the purpose of the power raising is to strengthen her.”

When Natalie had filled her mug, Wulfe ushered her out the back door and onto a wide brick patio ringed by azalea and forsythia bushes growing in abandon. The morning was warm, the humidity reasonably comfortable, and the sky bright blue above the trees. In the middle of the open yard, a male with a close-cut mustache and goatee lifted his hands to the sky and murmured words too low to hear.