Captive Of The Warg, (Wargs of the Outland #2)

Red Skin

The arrival of the ice bear sent a thrill through the pack. An irresistible rumble in his canines.

Usually, only the younger wargs enjoyed watching the field dressing. But this was an animal rarely sighted, much less eaten.

Bayne glanced at Reia whose eyes devoured the surroundings. He tried to see his home from an outsider's point of view. Frowning, he regarded the blue-tinged twilight sky and the luminous green Bridge of Gods shimmering and rippling like a river above them.

The spectral dancing lights limned the Leikker Skal so that the game hall seemed to glow. It doubled as a feasting hall, larger than his own. It could fit his entire pack whereas they spilled out of the hall of the wargrex. And sometimes he craved solitude. He wanted his hall to himself tonight. He wanted her to himself.

Bayne turned back to Reia, surprised to see her watching him instead of the bear being dragged off the giant sled. The instant their eyes locked, she turned away, her cheeks flaring with pink.

He grinned, remembering the taste of her and the feel of her silken body beneath his mouth. He was almost more excited to taste her again than the bear he was about to skin. He brushed past her, mouth tugging up to hear her sharp intake of breath.

Joining Forx at the head, he helped the others to drag the bear clear of the makeshift sled they'd fashioned.

"You're in fine fettle," his friend murmured, shrewd eyes seeing what others missed. "Last I saw you, you had one leg in the grave."

"Turns out our little human is something of a herb wife." A talented one at that.

Forx glanced at the leg Bayne favored as though he could see through the thick woolen trews to the wound underneath. With an inconspicuous nod, Forx flicked his eyes to Reia. "She's more than that," Forx grumbled, hefting the bear with a fistful of fur.

Bayne's shoulders tensed. A bark of denial halted in his chest. He couldn't bring himself to lie to Forx. It'd been easy to lie to himself, but Forx knew him better than anyone. And a mated male would understand the signs even if Bayne ignored them.

He eyed the lethal teeth he was so intimate with—he could still hear the snap of bone reverberating through his body. He'd been ready to die. Instead of running away and saving herself, the girl had launched onto the bear like a bloodthirsty sidir from the old sagas. More and more he saw her less and less as human.

Bayne glanced at Reia from the tail of his eye, feeling his heart slip further and further apart from his head. The attraction was undeniable and becoming impossible to resist. A war of attrition in which his mating impulse was overmastering his crumbling resistance.

Forx, having noticed the glance, snorted and shook his head. "Your silence means nothing, old friend, those speaking looks admit what you cannot."

"She's human," he growled, reminding himself of this, too. "My enemy. There can be nothing between us." His words sounded empty, even to him.

Forx's answering silence only frustrated Bayne. But this wasn't the place to untangle his thoughts, nor the time.

The wargs worked to turn the bear onto its back, the rest of the pack hovering close by. For all anyone knew, this might be the only time they'd ever see or eat ice bear. Yet he felt their attention waver between him and the supine bear, its saber teeth impaling the ice.

He was fast losing his good humor with the way his wargs, Forx included, assessed him. They were excited about the bear, their eyes animated and their bodies feverish with curiosity and hunger. But beneath all that excitement, he sensed the undercurrent of confusion and doubt. The momentous arrival of the ice bear and the Feast of Fagar itself were being overshadowed by...whatever was happening between their wargrex and his captive.