Even Ariana and Melisande were gone. Kougar searched for her through the mating bond, opened fully once more.

Ariana?

I remembered a warding to keep Ilinas out, Kougar. There was no time to explain. Feral House is safe.

Where are you?

Behind the house.

What of your maidens?

The others took off. Melisande has gone to find them.

Even telepathically, he could hear the devastation in her voice.

I'll be right there. He shifted back to his human form.

"Wulfe and Paenther?" Kougar demanded as the other Ferals shifted.

"Neither was here." Lyon turned to Jag. "Call them. Warn them." His gaze met Kougar's. "What the hell is going on?"

"Come." Kougar strode through the house and out the back door, Lyon and Vhyper close behind him. Ariana waited, her skin and dress streaked with blood, her eyes shattered even as they radiated with a warrior's fire.

Lyon's eyes narrowed as he took in her appearance. "Explain."

"I lost control of the poison," Ariana told him. "My maidens are infected, except for Melisande. They're controlled by the sorcerer who attacked us a thousand years ago. He sent them to capture you with hopes of dropping you into the spirit trap."

"He failed."

"For now." Brittle eyes turned to him, breaking Kougar's heart. She thought her friends were lost to her. That after fighting for so many centuries to save them, she'd failed.

He wouldn't let that happen.

"I'll get your Ferals out of the spirit trap." Her voice was low, vibrating with a pain that sliced what was left of his heart into ribbons. Her gaze turned to him. "Then we go after Hookeye together. I don't care if the entire Himalayan range comes tumbling down." Her lips pulled back from her teeth. "I want him dead."

Even in devastation, the warrior within her rose to the battle. He lifted his hand, an invitation born of a need to hold her, to comfort her, but she gave a small, tight shake of her head. This wasn't the time for comfort.

Her eyes widened, a look of raw doubt shattering her warrior's persona. "What if I don't really know how to save them? What if the Crystal of Rayas is just another thing Hookeye planted in my head?"

"Then we kill Hookeye first."

Melisande appeared in a rush of air that smelled of snow rather than pine. "They're at the temple," she stated without preamble. "The Mage have armed them and set them up as the first line of defense." She looked at Ariana, her eyes almost as hollow as her queen's. "The place is so thick with magic, I couldn't get near it. There will be no misting in. They'll snare us for certain." She scowled. "I don't know what they want with us."

"Hookeye knows we're coming after him." Ariana's voice shook.

Melisande frowned, confused. "Hookeye isn't there, Ariana."

Kougar froze. Ariana's gaze collided with his.

"He's gone?" Ariana demanded.

"He was never there." Melisande shook her head, her brows still drawn. "Why did you think he was there?"

"I know he was there, Mel. Why do you think he wasn't?"

"I . . ." Her eyes darted back and forth as if searching for the answer. "I just know." She tilted her head. "Why do I think I know?"

"Shit," Ariana said beside him, echoing his thought. "He's done it to you, too. That original poison must have had some kind of magic in it that would keep us from ever finding him. How many times were you on his trail, then lost it at the last minute?"

Disbelief flashed in Melisande's eyes. "Dozens. Are you trying to say I nearly had him all those times? That every time I got close, the magic kicked in to tell me he wasn't there? And I walked away?"

"I'm sorry, Mel. He's stronger than we knew. He's always been stronger."

Melisande's jaw turned to stone. "And now he's taken our people. All of them."

"He probably knows we're going to try to rescue the Ferals from the spirit trap. He's going to make me cut down my own sisters to reach the temple."

"Ariana . . ." Melisande's shoulders bent as if bowed beneath the weight of grief. "They're full of poison, now. They're already dead to us."

Ariana's grief blazed down the mating bond, a cry of anger and devastation that crumbled his soul. Deep inside, his cat let out a howl of answering pain.

Ariana stood beside him, blood-soaked and too pale, her eyes alive with grief and anguish. It was all he could do not to pull her close or, at the very least, take her hand. But the iron in her eyes stayed his hand. Now was the time to fight.

"Mel, tell me about Queen Rayas," Ariana demanded. "I have a memory of her standing atop the Temple of the Queens, channeling the energy of the Syphian Stream through this crystal to access the spirit trap." She lifted the chunk of rock that still hung between her breasts. "Is the memory true?"

Melisande nodded. Kougar knew she'd lived in that time. "Rayas often went into the spirit trap, Ariana. That memory is true, I'm certain of it."

Ariana turned to him. "Your friends are out of time, Kougar. I'll go after them while you track down Hookeye."

"We go together."

"To the temple, yes. I'll need you to help me break through the Mage . . ." Her face pinched. ". . . and my maidens. But once I'm through the gate to the Syphian Stream, you can't follow."

"I'll kill Hookeye."

"Yes."

Teamwork. Something that had been severely lacking in their marriage once upon a time. But history was repeating itself, her maidens attacked, their queen desperate to save them. If they died, as she feared they would, it would once more be because of him. Because he'd ripped the moonstone cuff from her wrist and revealed her to her enemy. She'd blame him. Every time she saw his face, every time he tried to make love to her, she'd remember this day. The tragedy they both feared was about to unfold.

Any thought he might have had of a future with her hung on a very fragile thread.

His gaze captured Lyon's. "The only way for Ariana to reach the spirit trap, and Hawke and Tighe, is through the temple. We're going to need help."

Lyon nodded and gave a shout for his warriors.

Ariana turned to Kougar. "Are you still feeling the poison?"

"Hardly at all. The bastard wants me to survive long enough to be captured in the spirit trap."

"It's not going to happen."

Their gazes met, locked, fierce determination arcing between them. "No. It's not."

Within moments, all within Feral House were outside, gathered around. The Chief of the Ferals began issuing orders.

"Olivia, you're in charge here. I'm counting on you, Ewan, and Delaney to guard our Radiant with your lives."

A soft growl rumbled from Jag's throat, but Olivia's eyes lit like beacons. "You have my vow, Lyon. No one will harm her."

"Good. The rest of us are going to the Ilinas' earthbound temple in the Himalayas. The Temple of the Queens. Arm yourselves." Lyon turned to Melisande. "I need you to pick up two of my warriors and bring them to us. Wulfe's gone to Harpers Ferry. Paenther's on the Eastern Shore. I'll warn them you're coming."

Melisande nodded.

As Lyon pulled out his cell phone, Kougar saw Jag slip his arm around Olivia's neck, pulling her close. "A few days ago, I thought he was going to kill you," Jag murmured to his mate. "Now he puts you in charge of Feral House and his mate."

Olivia looked up at him, her mouth struggling to contain the smile leaping from her eyes. "You jealous?"

A slow grin spread across the jaguar shifter's face. "Hell no, woman. I'm proud. Just don't let it go to your head, Red." He kissed her temple, a slow, gentle kiss that throbbed with love and an aching need to protect that Kougar understood all too well. "Be careful."

"You, too."

A moment later, Lyon glanced at Melisande. "Paenther's ready. Wulfe's finding a place to park the car where his disappearance won't be seen by humans." He turned to Ariana. "Are you able to transfer the rest of us, Queen Ariana?"

"I am."

Lyon's gaze snapped to Kougar. "Anything else?"

"No."

"Then let's do it! It's high time we got Tighe and Hawke home."

Chapter Twenty-one

The wind whipped at Ariana's thin dress, plastering it against the side of her body, tossing her hair into her eyes as she stared up at the golden temple from the path below. The sun escaped the clouds for one brief moment, setting the ivory temple afire before the shadows doused the brilliance once more.

Ariana felt light, literally, as if with the dissemination of the poison she'd lost forty pounds. And perhaps she had. But her heart felt heavy with grief and the leaden fear that her maidens were going to die.

And Kougar . . . No. She couldn't fear for him, too, or she wouldn't be able to function. The Ferals would win this battle. She had to believe that.

If only she'd called on their aid from the start, the moment her maidens started dying.

Hookeye had always been stronger than she'd realized. At last she knew, from the vantage point of distance and hindsight, that the Ilinas had never had a chance of defeating him on their own. She should have turned to Kougar in those days, not away.

If only.

Instead, she'd put them both through hell. And her maidens were all going to die anyway.

Kougar stood beside her, his shoulder inches from her own. She'd asked him not to touch her, and he'd seemed to understand that if he cradled her now, as she really wanted him to, if he offered too much sympathy, she might crumble, the wild grief inside her taking her down. She had to stay strong. Shoulder to shoulder, he held her up, lending her the strength to fight the battle to come.

Melisande appeared with the last of the Ferals. Wulfe, she thought this one was called. The shifter stood for a full ten seconds before dropping to one knee to retch on the rocks beside the others.

As the Ferals shook off the effects of the travel, Ariana started up the path, needing a moment alone. She reached the spot where she could see the temple yard just as the sun came out again. Flashes of steel glittered across the grounds, the swords held by her maidens, her friends. Dozens of them stood like automatons scattered in rough lines, their eyes blank with enthrallment.

Brielle stood with her dark hair loose and flying around her shoulders in the cold wind. Ariana's stomach felt as if it were being hollowed out with a blade. What kind of monster would force her to cut down her own people to reach him? Then again, as Melisande said, they were already dead. The poison she'd protected them from for so long would steal their lives as surely as Hookeye had stolen their wills.

Her eyes burned, tears escaping to be whisked from her cheeks by the cold wind. Grief pummeled her, leaving raw bruises on her heart that she knew would never heal.

How would she survive such a loss a second time? There would be no one left but Melisande. Two to renew a race. They could do it, of course. She alone could call the magic of rebirth and bring forth new Ilinas upon the Altar of Life, now that she could turn to mist again. She and Melisande would teach them what they needed to know.

But even as her mind set forth what she must do, her heart shattered at the need to do it. How could she go on without Brielle and Getrill and the others? She would, because she'd have no choice.

Goddess, it will destroy me.

The wind raked at her hair and her thin gown, the cold of the air no match for the bitter cold she felt within.

She felt Kougar move beside her, felt his hand slide under her hair to curve around the back of her neck. Warmth. Strength. He gave her both and more, grounding her, pulling her back to the here and now.

Taking a shuddering breath, she felt the cold abyss move away. For the moment.

She could not lose him, too. On the most fundamental level, she needed him. Her life would never be right without him. She knew that now.

But could he ever forgive her for betraying him all those years ago? Could he ever learn to trust her as he trusted his Feral brothers? Could he ever come to love her again as she loved him?

His warm fingers kneaded the tension in her neck. "We'll guard you and get you in there," he said quietly.

"No." She fingered the sword gripped tight in her hand, the sword she'd demanded from him at Feral House. Glancing over her shoulder, she briefly met his gaze. "I'll fight my way in there just as you will."

As she turned back to face the yard, his hand fell away, to be replaced a moment later by a light pressure on the top of her head, the brush of his chin. "My warrior queen," he murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear.

His words strengthened her, his simple, soft use of the word my lifting her heart in hope.

"That's the last fucking time I'm traveling by Ilina," Jag muttered, as the Ferals joined them.

"Any sign of Hookeye?" Kougar asked her.

"No." She'd been so focused on her own maidens, she hadn't really looked; but as her gaze moved back to the temple, she saw only a few scattered Mage and none who looked like the one she wanted dead. He was probably tucked safely in his laboratory, in the room where he'd been in his dream, working at his table on whatever magic would best destroy the Ferals.

She glanced at Kougar and found him watching her, pain in his eyes mixed with a deep, caring warmth.

"You're hurting," she murmured.

His knuckles brushed her cheek. "For you."

The constricting band tightened around her chest, pricking her eyes with tears, forcing her to turn away before she gave in to the terrible need to pour out her grief within the circle of his strong arms.