As a tall, dark-haired woman walked in, grief and battle in her eyes, the chief greeted her, compassion in his voice. "Delaney."

The woman gave a nod. "Lyon."

All took their seats around the table, each eyeing her with avid curiosity. Was it so unusual for them to bring a stranger into their midst?

"Where are the others?" she asked Kougar softly.

"Paenther's the only one not here."

Goddess, no wonder they were so desperate to retrieve the two from the spirit trap. He'd said their numbers had dwindled, but the evidence was shocking. Five Feral Warriors in this room when once there had been more than two dozen.

"The Wind?"

"Dead. His son is one of those in the spirit trap."

The breath went out of her with the unwelcome ache at the losses he'd suffered. "I'm sorry."

When everyone had taken a seat, the chief, Lyon, turned to Kougar. "The Shaman is on his way, as you requested." His amber gaze flicked to Ariana, then back again. "What's this about?"

Kougar remained still and silent for ten long seconds before reaching up to stroke his beard once, twice. His hand returned to his chair's arm while those around him watched. And waited.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low, yet as rich and hard as mahogany. "This is Ariana, Queen of the Ilinas."

Gasps and other sounds of disbelief erupted like scattershot around the room, half a dozen gazes spearing her, staking her to her chair.

Kougar turned to her, his eyes like flint. "My mate."

As quickly as the noise erupted, it receded as if Kougar's words had sucked the room dry of sound, turning the space silent as a morgue. The only sound was her heart pounding in her ears.

Every eye widened, every jaw dropped, the silence growing thicker, heavier, until it bruised her skin, until it pressed against her rib cage and threatened to crush her lungs.

Still, they stared.

"Holy shit," Jag exclaimed, shattering the awful tension. "You're married?"

And suddenly everyone was talking at once.

"The Ilinas have been extinct . . ."

"Did you know?"

"Is she the only survivor?"

"Silence!" Lyon took control. Though the talking stopped, the room was anything but quiet as the Ferals leaned forward, their expressions confused, wary, excited.

Kougar's voice slid into the void. "A millennium ago, the Ilinas were attacked by a sorcerer's magic, a poison that killed many of them." Quickly and succinctly, he relayed what little she'd told him.

When he was done, Jag shook his shaggy head, his expression ripe with disbelief. "You've known all along the Ilinas were alive?"

"No." The word was hard, clipped. "Like everyone else, I thought they were dead. I only learned the truth twenty-one years ago."

"The mating bond . . . ?" The scarred man's words were low, his tone pained.

Kougar met his gaze. "Severed, Wulfe."

The sympathetic tightening of the other Feral's eyes stabbed Ariana with guilt.

"That shouldn't be possible."

"She's Ilina." Kougar's tone said they were worse than dirt.

"You left Harpers Ferry to find her," Lyon said. "You think she can help us save Tighe and Hawke."

"I did."

The brunette's eyes widened as they locked on her. "Dear God."

By the fragile hope in the woman's desperate eyes, Ariana knew one of those Ferals was her mate.

Ariana sighed, hating to deliver the blow. "I can't help them."

The woman surged to her feet, her expression turning battle-hard. "You have to."

A warm tingle teased the back of Ariana's neck, a feeling as familiar as the beat of her heart. No. The scent of pine wafted on the air, the scent of the Crystal Realm.

Kougar must have smelled it, too, for he shot to his feet. "Attack!"

Even as he roared the word, the room exploded with the flash of steel, the splatter of blood, and the roar of fury and pain.

Melisande and half a dozen mist warriors took form around the room, stabbing the Ferals with their knives, flinging painful energy. Attacking without provocation though Ariana doubted Melisande saw it that way. Brielle had no doubt felt Ariana's agitation. Her fear. And Melisande had led the cavalry to the rescue.

But if Feral blood spilled, Ilina blood would soon follow.

And Feral blood was spilling.

Kougar pulled his knives and started swinging even before the six mist warriors turned fully solid and launched their attack.

Led by Melisande, the Ilinas were out for blood, aiming for hearts and heads as the Ferals drew blades to parry the attack. Vhyper took a knife to the shoulder, moving an instant before Melisande's blade pierced his heart. Lyon took a knife to the back, but it didn't seem to slow him down.

Jag and Wulfe shifted into their animals, their teeth bared.

"Cease!" Ariana yelled, on her feet beside Kougar. Her general's tone shot through the room, stilling her maidens' blades as the women lost full substance, but not form, becoming wraiths through which a blade would pass and never find purchase.

The Ferals faced off with the wraiths, the jaguar and wolf snarling, the others' blades ready to attack the moment the women returned to flesh and blood.

Only one battle persisted. Melisande continued to fight Lyon, blade to blade. The hatred in the blond mist warrior's eyes told Kougar she was waiting for the right moment to turn her energy blast on the Chief of the Ferals. The savage light in Lyon's eyes said she was about to die for her efforts.

Kougar wouldn't care, except that Melisande's death would devastate Ariana. "Don't kill her, Roar."

Ariana lifted her bound arms straight in front of her as if preparing to fire a pistol. Kougar was about to stop her when he realized her aim wasn't on Lyon but on her own out-of-control lieutenant.

Melisande flew off her feet as if she'd been launched, turning to mist and disappearing an instant before she slammed into the wall. A neat trick.

Silence descended except for the low growling and snarling in the throats of the wolf and jaguar.

"How the hell did they get in here?" Lyon roared.

Kougar eyed the remaining Ilinas, satisfied they were firmly under their queen's control. "Mist warriors come and go as they please."

"Like hell."

Out of nowhere, Melisande reappeared atop the conference table, holding a short sword at either side, her eyes blazing with fury. A fury this time aimed at her queen.

The jaguar crouched as if to spring.

Kougar lifted his hand.

"Hold, Jag," Lyon ordered.

Melisande's form faded to ghostlike, a faint red glow around her edges. Anyone who attempted to attack her like that would think he'd shoved his fist into a light socket. Ilina defensive energy was a bitch, and damned dangerous. A human or Therian could be caught in it and dragged to the Crystal Realm to die. A Feral was too strong to be transported against his will unless the Ilinas ganged up on him. Then it was anyone's game.

Hatred lit Melisande's eyes. "They have to die!"

Ariana pulsed with fury beside him. He could feel it through the mating bond and see it in the angry lines of her body. But when she spoke, her voice was low, woven with steel.

"Stand down, Melisande. They are not the enemy."

"They know about us, now!"

"He knows, Mel. Hookeye knows."

Slowly, Melisande's eyes widened, her fury evaporating beneath real fear as she jumped from the table with a soft, graceful leap to land in front of Ariana.

Kougar grabbed Ariana, gripping her upper arm to keep the other Ilina from stealing her away. Ariana's bound wrists might keep her from transporting herself, but any one of her maidens could take her, bound or not. If they tried while he held on to her, they'd have to take them both.

"How does he know?" The words were little more than a breath, as if driven from Melisande's body by a gut blow.

"It doesn't matter. He knows. I saw his eyes again."

Melisande swayed, her face turning chalk white. "It's over."

Kougar had always found it hard to like the woman, especially knowing how strongly she detested him and his entire race, but he found himself almost feeling sorry for her. Almost.

Ariana shook her head. "Maybe not, Mel. Maybe it's not over yet. The Ferals need me to turn to mist before their friends die in the spirit trap. Maybe they can help us find a way to end this." Ariana glanced at Kougar, meeting his gaze briefly with eyes that held little trust in her own words.

Melisande scoffed. "The spirit trap will destroy their friends within days."

"We've nothing to lose by enlisting their help."

A scowl darkened the mist warrior's face. "Do you really believe that?"

Ariana didn't reply, her lack of response answer enough.

Lyon's voice broke the uncomfortable silence. "Save our friends from the spirit trap, and we'll do whatever it takes to help you find a cure for the poison."

"Stupid shifter," Melisande muttered.

Ariana silenced her with a look and turned to Lyon. "You don't understand, Chief of the Ferals. The only way I can breach the spirit trap is as mist. And if I turn to mist, my maidens will perish."

Kougar felt the hope that had briefly flared in the room die a quick, agonizing death. Tighe's wife, Delaney, sank back in her chair as if she barely possessed the strength to hold herself upright.

Kara's voice broke the thick atmosphere from the doorway. "The Shaman's here, Lyon." Kara, Lyon's mate, strode into the room, the Shaman close behind her.

The ancient Therian stopped just inside the doorway, staring from one mist warrior to the next, his eyes growing wide with excitement.

"Ilinas," he murmured. "Extraordinary."

Though he looked like a fifteen-year-old kid, Kougar knew the Shaman to be well over six thousand years old, probably closer to ten. He'd been considered one of the Old Ones when Kougar was a boy.

Lyon lifted his hand, once more demanding the full attention of those in the room. "Queen Ariana, I'm willing to move heaven and earth to save my two warriors. If that means saving the Ilina race first, then we'd better get started. But I want your warriors out of my house and your promise that they'll never return unannounced or uninvited again. Or next time, the Ferals will rip their hearts out." His hard gaze landed on Melisande. "Is that understood?"

That commanding gaze swung to Ariana. "You'll remain with us until this is over."

Ariana stiffened. "I'm safer in the Crystal Realm, where he can't reach me."

"Unacceptable."

Kougar could feel her agitation rising. He understood her need to be with her maidens, especially when she considered them at risk, but he suspected equal to that need was her distaste of the idea of staying in this house. With him. He couldn't say he was thrilled himself, yet Lyon was right to demand she remain. If they let her go, she might never return.

Ariana's jaw turned hard. "My warriors have to be able to reach me. To contact me."

"Communicate telepathically," Kougar said.

"I've been corporeal so long that I can't hear them any longer. Communication between us is only one-way. A few of them can still hear me. Or sense my emotions if they're strong. I'm sure that's why they attacked."

Brielle nodded.

"One warrior only, then," Lyon said. "Flesh and blood, and she comes to the back door and knocks. Not Melisande. She's no longer welcome anywhere near Feral House, and if she approaches any of my warriors or their wives again, it will be considered an act of war."

Melisande threw up her hands with a look of disgust.

"Return to the Crystal Realm, Mel." Ariana's voice, though quiet, brooked no argument. "All of you except Brielle."

Lyon lifted an eyebrow.

"She knows things that could be of help. I'll send her away when we're done here."

"Fair enough," the Chief said.

With an angry wave of her hand that made the windows rattle, Melisande disappeared. A moment later, the others followed, leaving only Brielle and Ariana behind.

A heavy silence blanketed the room for several moments, then Jag and Wulfe shifted back into their man forms, both sans clothes. Jag strode to the chest in the corner and pulled out a couple of pairs of sweatpants, tossing one to Wulfe.

Delaney leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a desperate determination. "Where do we start? Tighe and Hawke don't have much time."

"Everyone, have a seat," Lyon ordered quietly.

Kougar held Ariana's chair, releasing her arm, but she shook her head, restless agitation radiating from her in waves. As she stepped away from him, Kougar tensed, ready to grab her again, not trusting her not to try to escape him.

But when she turned to him, the raw despair in her eyes turned to a physical ache beneath his breastbone, and he let her go. His gaze never left her as she walked to the window, her stride graceful and sure despite her bound hands, her shoulders bowed by the weight of her fear.

Lyon's gaze, too, followed her. "We need to know everything you know, Queen Ariana, if we're to help you."

Ariana turned to face his chief, her bearing proud, her eyes flashing with determined fire despite her agitation. Kougar doubted anyone else sensed that agitation but him. Watching her, he saw again the indomitable, fierce beauty he'd fallen in love with.

A mistake he would not repeat.

"We were attacked by Mage magic a thousand years ago." Her voice clear and strong, she continued. "I'd chosen to take Kougar as my mate, an act one of my maidens was convinced I'd soon regret." Melisande, no doubt. "Without my knowledge, she procured a Mage potion to keep the mating bond from fully attaching. We now believe that the Mage who produced the potion wove additional magic into it. Two years later, he attacked us through that mating bond."