Wild Warrior (The Weavers Circle 2)

Baer’s rage swallowed him up and Wiley gasped, but it receded in an instant, becoming love and concern. Relief and joy. His sweet Baer had been lost to his anger at the loss of animal lives. Wiley could feel his concern over Lucien’s injury. Wiley concentrated on his worry and fear over Grey. They couldn’t communicate actual thoughts, just emotions, but it was enough. He could feel the shift in Baer and knew his man was coming for them.

“Baer’s coming,” Wiley said on a sigh, opening his eyes again.

“The pestilents taken care of?” Grey asked, his voice strained.

“Mostly. I’m only seeing a few here and there. They’re just trying to get the fuck away from this place.”

Grey snorted. “Don’t blame them.”

Through the flames and smoke appeared a lithe creature running at full speed. Its long body stretched out its entire length with its stride, eating up the yards in the blink of an eye. “Whoa…a cheetah,” Wiley breathed.

“Show-off.” Grey mumbled.

In the last yard or so, the cheetah turned its body sideways, digging its feet into the grass and dirt, throwing clumps into the air as it attempted to stop. Wiley bent his body over Grey as much as possible to shield him and his injuries. The second the cheetah had stopped, he turned back into Baer. His lover had scratches all over him. Smears of blood and soot covered him from head to toe, but he otherwise looked okay.

“Are you all right?” Baer demanded, his voice low and growly, as if he were going to pound someone’s head in if Wiley didn’t give him the right answer.

“Grey’s hurt. We need to get him to Dane now.”

Baer started to reach for them and then suddenly stopped, his brow furrowing. “Is…is that a spell? Did you guys use magic?”

“Grey did! He’s amazing.”

Grey snorted. “Let’s not oversell it. We didn’t get to see if it worked.” Grey was starting to sound really tired. “Wiley, smudge through the circle with the toe of your shoe. Just break the circle.”

Wiley slowly stretched out his foot and cautiously touched the line. There was a slight electric tingle, but that was all as he broke the line. The faint glow snapped out of existence. Baer grabbed Grey by the arms and helped the Soul Weaver to his feet.

“Lucien and Clay?” Grey asked around a groan.

“Lucien was starting for the truck. Clay was covering him. Most of the pestilents are dead.”

“Hurt?”

“Just Lucien. He’s bleeding heavily.”

“I’m sorry,” Wiley whispered. Guilt poured through him and Baer stumbled with Grey, his head jerking around to look at his lover.

“What?”

“Wiley, it wasn’t your fault,” Grey said firmly.

“I wasn’t quick enough. I didn’t catch the coyote that attacked Lucien until it was too late,” Wiley answered Baer.

“We are going to talk about this later, but baby, you were so freaking amazing tonight. I couldn’t possibly be prouder of you than I am right now.”

Tears blurred Wiley’s vision, and he had to rapidly blink so he could see enough to make sure they weren’t going to be attacked. “Really?”

“Totally. Tonight was possible because of you. We won because of what you did. Thank you.”

Grey groaned as he tripped over another rock. Baer caught him, keeping them moving as quickly as possible. Wiley’s happiness was quickly tempered by worry for Grey. God, he hoped Dane could fix him.Chapter 27Baer shouldered Grey as they stumbled into the house after Clay and Lucien. Baer gently lowered the man to the couch in the family room next to Lucien. “Dane!”

“I’m coming,” Dane called as he hurried into the room. “I saw all the blood through the window and decided to get some towels. Holy shit, Lucien, your neck!”

Baer got his first good look at the man, and it was like his neck had been run over a cheese grater. He was barely holding on, his eyes shut against the pain, his lips in a tight grimace. His blue T-shirt was ripped, the color more black now from the blood. Dane didn’t hesitate. He kneeled on the floor in front of the couch and gently held his hand over Lucien’s throat. The Fire Weaver didn’t even wince, he was so far out of it. Soon, a faint glow came from under Dane’s palm, and the flesh began to repair itself. Lucien remained slumped for a long time before his eyes opened in shock.

“It’s working,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “I can’t believe this.”

Dane’s arm trembled. Clay came forward and put his hand on Dane’s shoulder, offering him strength and comfort—possibly even magic. It seemed to boost Dane, and he moved his hand to another wound on Lucien’s shoulder as his neck, though still covered in blood, was no longer gaping open in places.

Baer glanced over to find Wiley watching him and he held his arm up. Wiley came to him and snuggled under his shoulder. “You’re hurt, too,” he said softly, lifting Baer’s arm that held a long scratch from his inner elbow to wrist.