Tangle of Need (23 page)

Despite the dreams of family she nurtured in a secret part of her soul, she knew she was damaged. Until she fixed herself, if that was even possible, she couldn’t, wouldn’t, steal a commitment from anyone, least of all a man who belonged to another in a way that could never be erased.

He reached up to tug the tie loose from her braid, unravel her hair. “Friends.” It was a promise, the wolf gold of his eyes glowing. “Tell me about him.”

And because she understood how hard it was for a dominant male like Riaz to be vulnerable, to have her keep his secrets, she did. “To understand how it happened, you have to know the beginning.” She
shared how she and Martin had been apart for long periods for the first five years after they met, while Martin did a postgrad degree in England, and she focused on intensive soldier training.

“My family tends to lump all those years together, but they only saw me sporadically,” she told him, thinking back to that demanding, exciting time. “My parents were posted to the other end of the territory, Tarah was busy with Evie,”—it made her heart clench painfully tight even now to remember how weak Evie had been as a child—“and Indigo was still in school in den territory, while I was in the Cascades.”

Riaz nodded. “They would’ve had no idea of your day-to-day life.”

“Or how insane it was. As well as the soldier training, Hawke had me taking certain college courses online.” Things that had given her a grounding in basic business principles, so she could act as a sounding board for a lieutenant should it ever become necessary. “I barely had time to breathe, much less start a committed relationship.”

“It was like that for me when I first became a lieutenant,” Riaz said, his fingers moving on her skin, the slight roughness of his fingertips an exquisite caress. “Steep learning curve.”

“I guess that was part of why I was drawn to Martin when he came home for visits, why I said yes when he asked me out on dates. He was warm, intelligent, funny—he made me relax.” Tainted by the darkness that had come later, everyone else seemed to remember only the bad times, but it wasn’t the angry man he’d become that she’d fallen for.

“He’d talk me into watching silly movies; tell jokes in this deadpan voice that would have me in stitches.” But he’d only shared that part of himself with those he knew well. “One thing most people don’t realize is that Martin is shy, always has been. It sometimes comes across as arrogance or conceit and means he doesn’t make the best first impression—he didn’t on my parents.”

However, she’d seen and liked the man behind the mask, sincerely believed her family would too, once they got to know him. “We didn’t have explosive chemistry,” she admitted, “but I never expected that kind of passion.” Had thought her wolf too sensible for the wildfire she’d seen burn so many others in the pack. “I didn’t go around accosting brooding lone wolves then.”

Riaz’s eyes warmed with quiet amusement, but he didn’t interrupt.

“We were compatible in so many other ways, from our outlook on life, to our belief that loyalty was the core of a relationship, to the things that made us laugh that when he suggested we take our relationship to the next level, I said yes.” Her wolf had liked Martin well enough not to interfere with the human’s decision, but it had never demanded more, never hungered to tangle with Martin’s own wolf … never
chosen
him.

“You didn’t worry about the dominance issue?”

“Initially, yes.” It had been too important a question to blow off. “But you have to realize—by the time we moved in together, we’d known and casually dated each other for years.” Regardless of the impression others, including Tarah and Indigo, might’ve formed as a result of his remoteness around strangers, not once had Martin done or said anything to make her believe he couldn’t handle the fact of her dominance.

“When I made senior soldier while we were dating, he gave me a beautiful ceremonial knife,” she said, wanting Riaz to understand how she could’ve made such a terrible mistake and how it might not have been a mistake at all—not then. “He’d bought it months ago, because he was so certain I’d get the promotion. He was
proud
of me.”

Stroking hands on her thighs, the calm watchfulness of the predator that prowled behind the captivating shade of his eyes. “When did it start to go wrong?”

“I can never quite pinpoint it.” The only thing she knew was that the change had bewildered her. “Maybe it was the reality of living day to day with a woman whose wolf was dominant to his own, the realization that if it came down to it, I didn’t need him to protect me.” All she had were guesses, because the death of their relationship had been a slow, insidious thing, hard to see until it was too late.

“From what you’ve said, it sounds like he was the one who pursued you—could be he felt more for you than you did for him,” Riaz said quietly. “We both know you didn’t love him, not as a strong female wolf should love her man.”

Stricken, Adria said, “While I was in that relationship, I gave him everything I had to give.” Hadn’t realized she had the capacity for wild
passion, that the dark intensity she’d witnessed in packmates was a part of her nature, too. “If he was unhappy, why didn’t he say anything?”

“Because he was a weak prick,” was the cold summation. “I can see why he might’ve reacted badly, but that doesn’t mean I have any sympathy for him.”

Yes … Martin had made his own choices, held the responsibility for them. “I should’ve walked away when I first began to realize he’d started to resent me for my strength, but I couldn’t bear to give up and prove to those who’d warned me off a less dominant man that they’d been right.” God, she’d been so stubborn, so proud.

“You’re a dominant female—being bloody-minded is part of the package.”

She laughed, leaned down to play her fingers through his hair once more. “Yes, I’ve forgiven myself for that.” Because underneath the pride had been the honest desire to salvage a relationship that had started out with such promise. “And I think I would’ve accepted defeat sooner and walked away, but then … Martin saved my life.”

She’d been out in a bad storm, searching for a pup everyone thought was lost when a tree had fallen on her. It had broken her leg and dislocated her shoulder as it knocked her into a stream that had been bloated to dangerous levels, where she’d hit her head on an exposed rock. Dizzied and disoriented, she’d begun to gasp in water instead of air.

Having described the accident to Riaz, she said, “Martin has a bone-shaking fear of the water after almost drowning as a child, but he came out into the storm because he was worried about me, and then he dove into a raging torrent to save my life.” However, that wasn’t the most important part of the jagged jigsaw that had been their relationship. “He got me out, but as he was pulling himself out, a huge rock smashed into him, crushing most of his ribs and doing serious damage to his organs. He was in the infirmary longer than I was.”

Riaz sat up, stroking his hands along her spine. “He used it, didn’t he, to hold you?”

The top of the tattoo on Riaz’s left shoulder just visible to her in this position, she traced the curved lines of it. “I don’t know if it was conscious, but yes.” The pressure had been so subtle, she hadn’t realized
what was happening for a long time. “I always had this sickening bubble of guilt inside me whenever I thought of ending it with a man who’d risked everything to save me.”

After the relationship did end, she’d found herself unable to understand
why
Martin had fought to hold her even when it had become agonizingly clear they’d be happier apart. But if Riaz was right, if Martin had loved her in a way she hadn’t been able to reciprocate … it explained so much, even as it didn’t excuse the hurt he’d caused her.

“Loyalty’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Riaz’s breath warm against her skin.

“No … but taken too far, it can become a flaw.” Sliding her hands over his shoulders when his gaze darkened in knowledge, she gave a rueful smile. “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, isn’t it?”

He rubbed his cheek against hers. “That’s why it’s a bitch.”

Again, she laughed, startled at the vein of humor within the solemn wolf with the golden eyes. “Well, I’m done with looking back,” she said, tasting the salt and citrus bite of his skin, the hint of bitter chocolate in his kiss exotic and intriguing. “I’m ready to live in today.”

This time, their loving was an intimate dance.

Long, drugging kisses, lingering strokes of her hands over a firm chest lightly covered by a sprinkling of hair that was an erotic caress against her breasts, and a ride as deep, as slow. His body arched under her own, his tendons straining white under the dusky hue of his skin as his hands clenched on her hips.

She’d never felt as beautiful, as powerfully female.

Chapter 28

KALEB LOOKED DOWN
at the body laid out on the cold metal slab, lit by the frigid white of the morgue lights. The corpse had been discovered four hours ago, been prioritized at the highest level of importance. “Your conclusions?” he said to Aden. The Arrow medic—trained to perform autopsies on fallen Arrows—had done the task himself.

“Cause of death was a broken neck,” Aden responded. “From the on-scene examination, it appears he tripped and fell down the stairs.”

Not an unbelievable occurrence, and nothing that would’ve drawn Arrow attention, except for the fact the victim was an anchor. All anchor deaths were investigated by Arrows, even when old age was an evident factor—born with the ability to merge totally into the Net, those of Designation A were too integral to its psychic fabric to risk any mistakes.

Anchors had many functions, but their most important one was to stabilize and “hold” the PsyNet in place. They were the reason Psy could cross the world on the psychic plane without mental stress. The death of the one who lay on the slab had caused some minor ripples, but the temporary fail-safes had come into play the instant he disappeared from the Net, ensuring no major damage. Those in the affected zone would’ve experienced a faint headache at most before the network of anchors in the region realigned their spheres of influence to cover the gap.

A single death would in no way stretch the network thin, but the loss of any anchor was a cause for concern. However, only a telekinetic at the scene could’ve prevented an accident that appeared to have been caused by a split-second physical error.

“Do you believe the on-scene report?” he asked Aden.

“Vasic and I both did a sweep of the premises, found nothing out of order. The footage from his private security system also proved to be clean. Theoretically, a teleport-capable Tk could’ve ’ported in and ‘assisted’ in the fall, but why kill an anchor?” It was the most crucial question. “They have no political power, and their deaths do nothing except weaken the Net.”

And regardless of political affiliation, every single Psy in the Net needed the biofeedback provided by the vast mental network. Sever their Net link and those of his race died an excruciating death in minutes.

“Non-Psy?” Kaleb proposed.

“If there was an intruder, it would’ve had to be a Tk. No other designation could’ve evaded the security system.”

He met Aden’s gaze. “Judd Lauren is a Tk outside the Net.” It was a statement he made for many reasons.

“Judd also has an emotional attachment to the members of his family,” Aden pointed out. “It’s reasonable to extrapolate that he wouldn’t want to cause harm to the young in the Net, and there is no way to control the widespread effect of an anchor’s death.”

Weighing all the factors, Kaleb gave a small nod. “Even the most important aren’t immune to accidents,” he said, taking in the bruises on the body of the middle-aged man. “However, I want no unanswered questions. Do a secondary scan of the premises, ensure your first impression was correct.”

Aden said nothing, but Kaleb knew it would be done. He and the Arrows had come to an understanding—but he didn’t make the mistake of thinking he had their total support. The most lethal fighting force in the Net was still making up its mind about him. What the Arrows didn’t realize was that Kaleb was evaluating them, too, the purpose of that evaluation nothing Aden and his men would ever guess.

Chapter 29

RIAZ PRESSED HIS
forehead to the wall of the shower and let the water pound over him, washing away the sweat and grass stains, but doing nothing to erase the memories of the passion that had swept over him not long ago … and of the wild, sensual woman whose lush mouth was quickly becoming a private addiction.

Shame, anger, desire, they all vied for prime position within the rigid tension that was his body. The idea of being with anyone else once he’d found the woman meant to be his mate, was so anathema to everything he had ever believed, that both man and wolf were bewildered, lost. But that wasn’t the only thing that had him feeling like shit—regardless of what Adria had said about being with him every step of the way during their first primal coupling, he wasn’t a man who mistreated women. It continued to shame him that he’d been so inconsiderate with her.

A snapshot of memory, Adria’s hair tumbling around him in a silken waterfall as she leaned down to suck his lower lip into her mouth, releasing it in a delicious tease of a bite. “No more guilt, Riaz.” A husky order. “I needed that as much as you did. We can go slow this time.”

Wrenching the water to ice-cold when his cock surged at the mental replay of exactly how slow they’d taken it, he grit his teeth until his wolf cried foul. Since he was about to turn blue, he got out, dried off, and pulled on a faded pair of jeans, the threads barely holding together above the left knee. A white T-shirt, socks, and boots and he was done. He ran a comb through his hair, rubbed his jaw. It scraped, the bristles hard. Since it was far too late for Adria’s delicate skin, he shrugged and left it.

Heading to the small office he’d been assigned, he began to go through some paperwork Pierce had asked him to look over, figuring he’d grab dinner from the kitchen later, as it was only seven thirty.