humorless laugh, and said with a thickly disparaging tone, “Unlike the hawk, which is a useless animal, completely unsuited for battle.”
As growls of outrage peppered the room, Faith’s gaze snapped to her soon-to-be mate. The heat of shame rose into her cheeks, and she could no longer hold her tongue. “ Maxim. ”
The grip on her shoulder tightened in retaliation, Maxim’s strong fingers digging into the joint until she cried out. Faith tried to pull away, but though Maxim shifted his fingers and no longer hurt her, she remained tight against him, held by his viselike grip.
The low growl of a vicious animal had her head turning. Hawke. Her jaw dropped, her blood going cold. My God . His eyes now glowed a golden orange, the pupils engulfing the whites. Animal eyes. Fangs had erupted in his mouth, claws springing from his fingertips.
Faith stared at his terrifying visage with a mix of horror and fascination even as she recognized the in-between stage between man and animal. Going feral, she’d heard it called. Deadly, terrifying. And utterly . . . thrilling.
Hawke took a step toward them, but Tighe grabbed him. Kougar leaped to his other side. “Easy, buddy.”
Hawke stilled, his gaze fixed on Maxim. “ Let her go. ”
But Maxim’s hold on her only tightened.
All of a sudden, Lyon was in front of them, his own face looking much like Hawke’s, with the fangs and the animal eyes. His hand whipped up to encircle Maxim’s throat, his claws biting deep into Maxim’s neck.
“ Release her. ”
The hand at her shoulder slowly disappeared, as did the man at her side. Lyon picked him up by the neck and slammed him back against the nearest wall making the paintings rattle. “You will show respect for your Feral brothers and every person in this house. And you will never harm one of the women. Ever. Not even your own. Is that understood?”
“Of course.” Maxim’s words gurgled with the blood in his throat as his white tuxedo shirt slowly turned red.
For a dozen seconds, Lyon held him like that. Finally, he released Maxim and stepped back, his claws and fangs receding. “You’ll retire to your room, now, and remain there until dinner at seven.”
Maxim pushed away from the wall, straightening his bloodstained clothes, his expression as haughty as ever. Raising his chin, he speared her with his gaze. “Come, Faith.”
Lyon turned to her. “You’re welcome to remain here.”
She was trembling, shaken from the violence and from seeing two Ferals in their half-animal forms. Hazarding a glance at Hawke, she found that, like Lyon, he was back to normal, having retracted fangs and claws, and watching her now with enigmatic eyes.
They all watched her, waiting to see what she’d do. If she stayed, denying Maxim’s request to stand beside him against the others, she might as well pack her duffel and go home. No man would forgive that, especially one as prideful as Maxim.
You belong to Maxim. Go with Maxim.
“Thank you, Lyon, but Maxim is my soon-to-be-mate.” Resisting another glance at Hawke, she turned and fell into step beside Maxim as he strode from the room.
She accompanied him up two flights of stairs, confused and frustrated by how right it felt to walk beside him. And at the same time, how wrong as she became increasingly frustrated with him. He was arrogant and rude. And he’d intentionally hurt her!
Although he’d been nice enough on the plane. Before they’d arrived at Feral House.
Was she being unfair to him? There was so much more to any man than the way he reacted when faced with such a difficult and unique situation—turning into a shape-shifter, leaving his home for good, becoming one of a group of men who had known one another for decades, if not centuries. Becoming a soldier when he was clearly used to being a prince.
To pass final judgment on him in the midst of such chaos was unfair. She had to give him and the mating connection time.
Maxim pushed open the door to reveal a
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