Page 35
Hawk spirit, I beg of you, give him another chance. Please. I need him. Emotion welled up inside her so thick, so strong, she thought it would choke her. If falcons could cry, she'd have had teardrops rolling down her feathered cheeks. I love him.
Deep in her mind, she heard a shriek of fury. No not fury. Frustration. The hawk's. As if a part of him wanted to relent.
The falcon continued her plea to the stubborn bird. They are meant for one another, these two shape-shifters. They are meant for greatness. Through us. With us. I beg you to give him one more chance. For me. I have missed you.
Silence reigned for long moments. Then all at once, the angry emotion that had been battering Faith from the hawk spirit fell away, to be replaced by a rush of love. Hawke's love. It worked!
Faith? Hawke's voice clear, deep, and beloved rang in her head.
The falcon's satisfaction fell through her mind like a warm, cleansing rain.
I'm here, Hawke. Right behind you.
You're cured of the dark magic!
Yes. The ritual worked for me this time.
The hawk dipped and circled her and suddenly he was flying at her side. How is this happening? I'm flying again!
In her mind, Faith smiled. The falcon spirit talked the hawk spirit into giving you another chance.
She talked . . . ? Thank the goddess. You have no idea how much I needed to be able to fly again. What do you think of it? Of flying?
She heard the joy in his tone, and the terrible pressure binding her chest eased. I've been so focused on reaching you, I haven't been paying much attention.
Feel, Faith! It's glorious up here. The others think their animals are better because they're bigger and can rip a Mage to shreds. But if they could feel what it's like up here, they'd mourn their grounded fate. They have no idea what they're missing.
Little by little, the awful tension that had been riding her for so long slid away as she allowed herself time to simply feel the wind rushing through her feathers, the sun warm on her back. A smile bloomed brilliantly in her mind. It was, just as he said, glorious.
She dipped, spiraling through the air, zooming down, then back up with a rush and a mental shriek of joy.
You're a natural, he told her. It took me weeks of practice to be able to roll like that.
The falcon's doing all the work.
She took over? His tone was suddenly sharp. Unhappy.
No. It's not like that. I thought about flying free, and she executed it.
Just like that.
Yes.
He didn't reply.
Isn't that how it is with the hawk?
No. The word was thoughtful, but the silence that followed was too full, too complete. Ahhh!
The sudden sound of Hawke's pain filled her mind. Fear ratcheted her bird's pulse. What's the matter?
The damned hawk's . . . trying to rake out my brain . . . with his talons. Goddess!
The falcon's thoughts bloomed in Faith's head. The hawk tries to hold on to him as the connection between them splinters. The hawk does not wish to lose this Feral - he is, as you said, a good man, by far the best of his line - but the Feral refuses . . . has always refused . . . to trust him, to become one with him. The spirit trap may have torn the connection between them, but it is their fighting that is destroying the bond.
Their fighting?
Yes. The hawk yanks away control, but the moment he returns it, the Feral wrenches it back. Only by the Feral's giving up control freely to the spirit, and joining with him completely, will they be able to heal this terrible rift and save your Feral's life. He must do it soon, or he will die. The connection is almost gone. I fear another battle between them, and it will sever for good.
Faith's heart stuttered. Hawke?
I need to land, Smiley. I need to shift. I don't trust this damned bird not to take over again. This way. He dipped into a nosedive that was gorgeous to behold. She followed, trusting the falcon, exhilarated by the drop that should be terrifying but was nothing but thrilling joy.
Hawke landed first, on the top of a forested cliff not far from the river, away from people. Slowly, the lights began to sparkle over him. She dropped down into the underbrush beside him, shifting as she did. She turned to him, breathless with the euphoria of her first flight. He stared at her, his body tense, but his eyes overflowing with relief, with warmth, with love.
"You're really cured," he murmured, then pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth in a hot, tender kiss, one hand sliding into her hair, the other slipping around her waist, tangling in her oversized T-shirt as he tightened his hold on her.
His lips left hers, trailing along her cheek, her cheekbone, her temple, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She kissed his chest where his shirt hung open. Vaguely, she remembered ripping it when he tried to dress her in the prison cell. Pulling back, he framed her face with his long fingers, looking down at her with eyes filled with tenderness.
"I love you," she whispered.
A smile slowly spread over his face. "I love you, too. "
She gripped his waist. "Hawke, your animal . . . " They had to discuss the disconnect before it was too late.
His finger pressed against her lips, silencing her. "Shh. I want to see . . . " He lifted her arm, pushing back the too-long sleeve to reveal the delicate golden armband around her arm. The head of the falcon was barely raised and wouldn't cause her trouble beneath her shirts.
His fingers slid over the surface. "I never realized it would be so small, so fine. It's perfect for you. " He looked up, a terrible tenderness in his eyes. A sadness, as if he knew exactly how close he was to dying.
"Hawke. "
His knuckles brushed her cheek. "Let me see you shift. Then we'll talk, I promise. Fly for me. " His words were pained, as if flying this time had made him remember how desperately he'd missed it. As if he thought he'd never do it again.
Swallowing hard, she nodded and stepped back. With a bare thought of what she wanted to do, she shifted in a rush of unbelievable pleasure and shot into the air with a silent cry of joy. The trees flew past so quickly, she could barely see the branches, let alone the leaves, yet she sensed them perfectly as she zipped past, zooming around the tree trunks, filled with a breathless joy.
She thought of standing in front of Hawke and, a second later, did just that, shifting as she landed.
He stared at her, his mouth half-open.
Her brows drew down, suddenly worried. "What's the matter?"
"My father used to be able to do that. " His voice sounded stunned. "I thought . . . I thought it had taken him centuries of practice. "
"What did I do?"
He shook his head. "You flew through the trees without hitting a thing. Shifted as you landed, in the blink of an eye. " Grasping her arms, he leaned toward her, his expression lighting with wonder. "How did you do that?"
She shrugged. "I thought about flying through the trees and returning to you, and that's what I did. "
"No. " His grip on her arms tightened. "No, you did so much more. "
"The falcon did the rest. "
Hawke stilled, his eyes narrowing. "You said that before. That the falcon takes over. "
"She doesn't take over, not at all. I think of what I want to do, and she executes the moves. We're a team. " Deep in her mind, she felt the falcon's approval.
But only confusion lit Hawke's face. Releasing her, he turned away, then swung back around. "My father could do that. The hawk is capable of it. "
"It's what he wants. " Even without the falcon's coaching, she suddenly understood. "He wants to work with you as a team. In perfect unison. In perfect trust. Instead, you push him away. Or you did, until the spirit trap caused the break in your connection, allowing the hawk to fight you for control. Why, Hawke? Why do you push him away?"
"I don't. "
She cock
ed her head. "But you don't fully trust him. "
"I'm a man first, not an animal. It's the man's brain that must make the decisions. Otherwise . . . " He shook his head. "People get hurt. "
She closed the distance between them and pressed her hands against his chest. "What people? What happened?" she asked softly, because it was clear something had. "Why is your relationship with your animal so different from mine?"
Slowly, he turned away again, standing in profile, staring down the hill as if suddenly fascinated by the rocks and dead leaves littering the sloping forest floor.
"When you first shifted, what was it like between you, Hawke?"
He shrugged. "It was always like this. "
"He didn't show you how to fly? He didn't take you?"
"Never. " His brows pulled together as he glanced at her. "He tried, I think. Those early days were a fog. Not good. "
He kept pulling away, but she refused to let him escape this. Or her. She stepped closer and ran her hand over his broad, tightly muscled back. "Why not?"
"I . . . " He shook his head and looked away.
She kissed his shoulder. "Tell me. "
"Faith . . . this isn't the time. "
"It is the time. You don't want to talk about what happened, which tells me it's important. I'm not going to let it go. Not with so much at stake. "
The stubborn set to his jaw slowly softened, his mouth forming a rueful twist.
"Tell me what happened. "
He turned to her fully and sighed. "You're relentless. " But his mouth tipped up in a half smile.
"Only because I love you so very much. "
His eyes softened even more as he pulled her into his arms and rested his chin lightly on her head.
"I didn't want to be marked. " He groaned. "That's not exactly true. " Pulling back, he grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her, a quick soft peck. "I'll tell you, but . . . I need to pace. "
As he turned and did just that, Faith perched herself on a small rocky shelf and waited.
"My father was killed by a human mortar shell during the Civil War. I think I told you that. "
"You did. "
"I was living in Finland at the time, tutoring the only child in a small enclave. Aren. His father was Therian, but his mother was human, and Aren was mortal. I'd been with them five years when I discovered the feral marks on the back of my shoulder one morning. I immediately knew one of the nine must have died. I'd grown up in Feral House. All nine had had a hand in raising me. I was devastated at the thought of any of their deaths, but the fact that I'd been marked made me fear that the one who'd died was my father. We shared the hawk DNA, of course.
"It was a couple of weeks before Lyon's letter reached me. I was alone in the library of the enclave's house when I read it. " He frowned. "I wasn't prepared. Not only had my father died, as I'd feared, but so had my mother. Three days after my father died, she was killed by draden. Accidentally, Lyon said, but I knew better. "
Bitterness twisted his mouth, a bitterness he'd lived with for over 140 years. "I loved my mother, but she never had half of Kara's strength. She couldn't bear the suffering from the severed mating bond, so she took her own life. Or let the draden take it. "
Faith shuddered at the thought of dying beneath those razor-sharp mouths, though she'd all but done that, hadn't she? If Hawke hadn't been there . . .
"I was furious. It was bad enough I'd lost one parent, but two . . . and the second intentionally . . . " He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, then dropped them, his expression bleak. "Aren ran into the room while I was reading that letter. Eight years old. I'd known him since he was a toddler and loved him like a son. "
Her breath caught.
"Newly marked Ferals tend to be short on control, and mine had been shattered. He ran right for me, as he always did. But I didn't grab him around the waist and sweep him high like I usually did. I lashed out at him with my claws, unthinking. It was the first time I went feral. "
"Oh, God, Hawke. " Her scalp crawled with horror.
"I didn't kill him, thank the goddess. I caught him across his face and shoulder, but he nearly bled out before we got the bleeding stopped. It was close. " He visibly shuddered. "So close. And he lived the rest of his life with the scars I gave him that day. " The bleakness in his voice raked at her heart. "As soon as I was certain Aren would live, I left for Feral House. "
"And you never forgave the animal spirit for what you did to Aren. "
He stilled, then turned to her slowly, his eyes narrowed as if he'd never considered that. "I understood just how dangerous a Feral could be. I knew what could happen if I lost control. I never lost it again. Not until recently. Not until the spirit trap. "
"You never lost control because you held it so tightly. You never trusted the animal spirit because you were afraid of that wildness inside of you. That wildness that made you harm Aren. "
He frowned. "I suppose. "
"You need that wildness. "
"No. "
"Yes. You do. That's what makes me so fast when I'm in my falcon. " She went to him, pressing her hands against his chest, making him look at her. "Even if you embrace that wildness, you aren't going to be a danger to anyone you don't mean to be. Not now. You're the kindest man I've ever known. "
He covered her hands with his, his expression telling her he wasn't sure he believed what she was saying, but he was listening.
"You have an innate gentleness, a goodness, that goes all the way to your core, Hawke. I can't imagine what it must have done to you to have accidentally harmed a child like that. A boy you loved. "