"The world's safety and his heart depend on her."
Reviewed by Annetta Sweetko
Posted February 6, 2014
Romance | Romance Paranormal
Natalie Cash's life changed in an unimaginable way. What
had started out as a group of friends going for a jaunt
through a quaint historic town had turned into a nightmare
... the origin of which she can't remember. The worst for
her
is the fact that her blind brother is still missing. The
only thing that seems to sooth her is the visits from the
wolf but she has no idea that he is really a WULFE UNTAIMED.
Wulfe is a Feral Warrior, he and the other warriors had
been able to rescue Natalie and her one friend from being
sacrificed by Inir, the Mage who is working on the release
of the High Daemon Santanan. The Warriors are the only
thing standing between this pure evil and the world that
doesn't even know it exists and they plan to keep it that
way.
Having been drawn to the young beauty from the beginning
and unable to see her in pain, Wulfe healed her of a cut on
her face and accidentally changed her life further. When an
instinct sends him to her side to be in the right place to
rescue her from an attack by Mage sentinels, Wulfe brings
her the Feral House where she finds a happy surprise. Her
brother is there, safe and sound.
There is no way Wulfe could know that this woman would
become the world to him and the answer to the curse that is
causing the Warriors to lose their shifting ability. As
that happens it gives Santanan the strength to release his
Daemon's in preparation for his return to conquer the
world. Natalie is the key to the Warriors ending that
threat.
WULFE UNTAMED is a fast paced, amazing journey through
author Pamela Palmer's Feral Warrior world. I had
been
hoping for Wulfe's story and wasn't disappointed with this
one. After what he had been through with his first mating
it was fantastic to see him get what he truly deserves. I
found Natalie a worthy match to this particular warrior,
especially when she didn't even see his scars, because of
her open heart. Their love story is all about healing for
them both and I enjoyed watching them fall in love with
each other. I chuckled out loud when Wulfe realized that
the damage done by the death of his former mate was gone,
which lead to a number of "oh my" moments. This was also a
great book to catch up on characters from past books and
see where they are now.
According to the authors website this is "technically" the
final book of the Feral Warriors but she does plan to
write
a couple more of the Warrior's (Grizz and Vypher) stories,
either as stand alones or a spin-off series. I will be
looking for those books and rereading the whole series
again.
SUMMARY
They are called Feral Warriors—an elite band of immortals
who can change shape at will. Sworn to rid the world of
evil, consumed by sorcery and seduction, their wild natures
are primed for release . . . The most enigmatic and tortured of the Feral Warriors, Wulfe
is haunted by the quiet beauty of a human woman who no
longer remembers him. Once a captive of both the Mage and
the Ferals, Natalie stole a piece of his heart before he
took her memories and sent her safely back to her fiancé.
But now the Mage are threatening her again, and Wulfe will
risk anything to protect her. Natalie Cash is stunned when she's saved by a wolf who
shifts suddenly into a splendidly built, if badly scarred,
man, a man with the kindest eyes. Swept into a world of
intrigue and danger beyond her comprehension, she turns to
the powerful Wulfe, finding a passion she'd only dreamed of.
But when time runs out, they must trust one another and
surrender to a wild, untamed love.
ExcerptA loud crack of thunder startled Natalie awake. Lightning fl
ashed across the room and she
caught sight of the pictures on the wall.“What am I doing in the guest room?” she muttered groggily.
Confusion clouded her mind
as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. S
he reached for the lamp, but though her
fingers turned the knob, nothing happened. The electricity w
as out. And the closest flashlight was
in the master bedroom. Utterly confused, she pushed to her feet just as another fla
sh illuminated the room and the
large dog lying in front of the closed door, his fur caked w
ith … blood. It all came back in a rush—
the men breaking into her house. The dog, Wolf, attacking th
em
… killing them … as he protected her. She swayed, her forehe
ad heating at the memory of the
violence, her stomach lurching. Had he killed them all? Heav
en help her, she hoped he had,
because they’d stabbed him, over and over, in return. Stumbling forward, she sank to her knees on the carpet besid
e the beautiful animal and
reached for him. Please don’t let him be dead. Her palm pres
sed against the warm fur of his
shoulder and felt the steady rise and fall she’d hoped for.
Thank God. Downstairs, something crashed, stopping her heart. The intru
ders are still here. Her pulse
began to thud hard enough to shake her entire body as she wa
ited for the sound of boots on the
stairs, a sound she might not hear over the howling wind and
the rain slashing against the
windows. Lightning again illuminated the dog’s blood
soaked fur. Thunder cracked, startling her out
of her momentary paralysis. She had to do something to stop
the bleeding, or Wolf was going to
die right here, right now. If the intruders broke through th
e door, so be it. They must know she was
up here. Which made no sense. Pushing to her feet, she moved quietly to the dresser where
she kept the stack of old T-
shirts she wore to exercise in. They’d have to do. Grabbing
a handful, she sank down beside the
animal and whispered softly. “It’s me, boy. This might hurt, but I’ve got to staunch your
wounds.” Her fingers pressed gingerly, burrowing through Wolf’s fur,
as she sought the site of the
stab she’d seen him take to the shoulder. Warm blood coated
her fingers and she knew she’d found
it. As gently as possible, she pressed one of the shirts aga
inst the wound, then started searching for
any others. “Poor guy,” she whispered. “You chose the wrong night to com
e see me, but you probably
saved my life.” She needed to get him to a vet. The beautifu
l animal made no sound, gave no
indication of consciousness. He might be alive, but for how
much longer? Something skittered across the floor downstairs, stopping he
r heart for another moment. Why hadn’t they followed her upstairs? For that matter, how
in the heck had she fallen asleep on
the guest bed in the middle of an attack on her house? None
of it made a bit of sense. The last thing
she remembered was hitting one of the nasties with the lamp
and the other one grabbing her. Had
he hit her, then? She didn’t hurt anywhere. Somehow, she mus
t have stumbled up here and passed out. As she probed the dog’s side, she felt more warm blood and k
new she’d discovered another
wound. If only she could see them. If only she had a flashli
ght. Or … a camp lantern. Yes. Her
camping supplies were stored in the closet in this room. Ris
ing, she dug the lantern out of the
bottom of the closet and turned it on only a little, bathing
the injured animal in a soft glow. He had blood everywhere. Her gut cramped. How was she suppos
ed to know how much of
the blood was his and how much belonged to the men?
They’d been dressed so strangely, like
some kind of foreign army, in matching blue tunics. And
swords. She pressed T-
shirts against the two wounds she’d found so far, knowing sh
e had to find
the others, yet wondering what she was going to do with them
if she did. She only had two hands. And no telephone or suturing supplies. “Hang on, Wolf. Just hang on for me. Sooner or later, they’l
l leave, and I’ll be able to get
you to a vet. What are they doing down there?” She heard som
ething roll across the hardwood
foyer. Roll. Suddenly she remembered the way they’d broken d
own her front door and relief left
her on a hard exhale. “It’s not them, it’s the wind. Of course, of course.” Leapin
g to her feet, she stroked Wolf’s
head. “This is going to hurt, boy, but I have to move you if
I’m going to get you help.” She scooted around to his back end and, as gently as she cou
ld, lifted his hips and lowered
them again a few inches out from the door. Moving to his hea
d, she did the same, back and forth, a
few inches at a time until she nearly had him far enough fro
m the door to open it. Once more
should be enough. Sweat beading on her brow, she took a deep breath, squatted
at his tail, and lifted his hips
one more time. Suddenly, her hands were empty, the dog just … gone … explod
ing in a spray of colored fur. Natalie fell back, landing on her backside, then stared, jaw
dropping, as a man appeared out
of thin air … a huge, naked man lying on the floor right whe
re the dog had been. She crab-
walked back, the bed catching her in the shoulder blades. Th
is isn’t happening. The man groaned and began to stir. Natalie tensed, her heart
pounding violently in her
chest as she pushed herself to her feet, then sank onto the
bed when her legs refused to hold her. Slowly, the man sat up and leaned back against the door, his
muscular body marred by half
a dozen stab wounds, one on the shoulder … right where the d
og’s had been. This isn’t happening. Dogs don’t turn into men. They don’t! But even as the argument roared in her head, her gaze took i
n the sight in front of her. The
man was built, his waist narrow, his abs ripped, his biceps
as thick as tree trunks, one adorned with
a thick golden armband with what appeared to be the head of
a wolf. His shoulders were easily half
the width of her sofa. Her gaze continued up, reaching his f
ace, and her heart clenched. Scars
crisscrossed the flesh every which way, tugging down one of
his lips, cutting across one eye. His
body might be prime, but his face was made for nightmares. W
ithin that ruined face, eyelids lifted
revealing dark eyes that turned to her, contracting on a she
en of pain, radiating a dismay so raw it
almost made her ache. “I’m not going to hurt you, Natalie.” His voice was low and
urgent as he struggled to his
feet, grimacing. Towering over her—
he had to be a full seven feet tall—he watched her with eyes
filled with the same intelligence, the same gentleness she’d
seen in Wolf’s. “I would never hurt you." She was shaking, her pulse racing, her stomach cramping from
shock. But not from fear. Because as she stared into those dark eyes, she saw only tru
th and honor and kindness. And, odd as
it was, she recognized the essence of the dog in the man. “I would never hurt you,” he said again, his voice throbbing
with sincerity and desperation
that she believe him. “I know,” she told him. And she did.
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