Tangle of Need (41 page)

Hawke remembered the incident, and the punishment he’d meted out to all those involved—fighting the urge to congratulate the girls on the sheer audacity of the stunt the entire time. “Nell probably
was
impressed.” He sure as hell had been.

Responding with that adorable growling sound he loved, Sienna pushed herself back until his chair pressed against the wall, her legs kicked out in front of her. “She then made me sit through a discipline session with two of the younger teens—it was like a bad rerun of my life. Later, she took me to a meeting where the senior maternal dominants all worked around a quilt. I can hardly sew enough to complete emergency repairs in the field!”

Hmm…
“Did she invite you back?”

A grumpy nod.

Delight had him hooking his foot under the chair and rolling her back toward him. “Ask me the name of the reigning champ of trouble in the den before you came along?”

Sienna’s
continued black mood was apparent in her muttered, “Who?”

“Nell.”

That got her attention.
“Nell?”

“Yes. And she held the title for ten years. So”—he leaned down with his hands braced on the arms of her chair—“I’d say it’s definite that she was impressed by that raid.”

Biting down on her lower lip, his mate said, “The quilting meeting?” in a small voice.

“It’s where the maternals get most of their business done. And they don’t invite just anyone.”

“Oh.” Sienna rubbed a hand over her face. “To be honest, the meeting was painless in comparison to the time I spent with Nell—I felt like I was being raked over the coals.”

“How did you respond?”

“I treated her with the respect due to her as one of the most senior people in the den.” Lashes down, back up. “Though I did get a little irritated when she pushed too hard—and I might have pointed out that I’m an adult female now and not particularly interested in rehashing my past exploits. That’s when she took me to the quilting.”

“Good,” he said, claiming a hard kiss before rising to his full height once again. “If you’d let her walk all over you, you’d never have been invited to the meeting.” Slender Nell might appear young and almost fragile, but the leader of the maternals had a spine of titanium, and appreciated the same in others. “The fact you can’t sew is irrelevant—they bloody well give me a needle and thread when I attend.”

Sienna spit out a startled laugh, the stars returning to her eyes. “What do you do?”

“Remind them I’m alpha.” The wolf snarled. “Then I sit and I listen.” Because the maternals were the backbone of the pack, the ones who made them family, gave them heart.

“I made myself useful cutting pieces for the quilt,” Sienna said, “but mostly I listened, too.” A long, shuddering release of breath. “So … it wasn’t a disaster?” Hesitant, quiet, a request for reassurance.

It fucking killed him each time she exposed the depth of her trust in him, this woman who, as a scared, lonely child, had been taught not to trust anyone. “Not
even close,” he said, crooking a finger. “I’d call it an unmitigated success.”

Rising, Sienna pressed her body to his, her fists tucked against his chest. Cuddling her close, he rubbed his jaw against her temple. “You’re doing beautifully.” He knew she was walking this road not simply for herself, but for him, for SnowDancer, so the pack would know they could have faith in the strength of their alpha couple.

Pride and love vied for space inside him, collided in a powerful punch of emotion. “Come on,” he said, running his hands down her back. “Let’s sneak into our quarters for an early dinner.” He wanted to touch her, pet her, adore her, hold her.

CAUGHT
up on work the next day, and with her and Drew’s next climbing tutorial not until later, Adria found herself a sunny seat on a giant boulder in the White Zone just before lunch. She wanted to sit and fiddle with a small computronic engine part the mechanics had discarded as too much trouble to fix. It was, but she liked the challenge. She was almost sure she’d figured out a partial workaround when she caught a scent that was now embedded in her very skin.

Her wolf rose, padding to the surface of her mind, and she dropped the hand holding the part to her thigh to focus on him, this lone wolf who was becoming her own … though he would never be
hers
. His stride was confident, a man sure of his strength. But he wasn’t unbending, was capable of a tenderness that threatened to make her fall so deep, she’d never recover.

Reaching her, he glanced at the engine piece, angled his head in a silent question.

“It’s a hobby,” she said, sliding the piece and her miniature tool set into a pocket of her buff-colored cargos, feeling oddly shy. As if this were their first date and he’d caught her playing like a child. “A puzzle to solve.”

Placing the brown paper bag in his hand on the boulder, he reached into his own pocket to pull out a small, polished wooden carving of a leopard mid-prowl. “My hobby,” he said, standing the leopard on her palm. “It’s not finished.”

Astonished and charmed, she ran her finger along the back of the incredibly lifelike animal. “When do you do this?” She was fascinated. “I’ve never seen you.”

“Here and there, when I’m thinking.”

“Can I have it?”

A glint of gold in the pale brown, the wolf’s delight. “When it’s done.” Plucking it from her fingers, he slipped it back into his pocket. “Show me what you were doing with the part.”

Retrieving it, she explained, while he stood between her parted knees, one of his hands on her thigh, his hair shining blue-black in the sunlight. It was a subtle intimacy, and it wrapped her in silken chains—she had to concentrate to get the words out, wasn’t sure she breathed until he said, “That looks like fun,” in an intrigued tone. “I want to take one apart with you.”

A laugh bubbled out of her. “Alright.”

Stealing her laugh with a kiss that was pure hot, wet demand, he squeezed her thigh before reaching to get something from the bag he’d brought over. “Here.”

It was a sandwich. “Chicken and avocado,” she murmured, another piece of the hard shell around her heart falling away. “My favorite.”

“And your sugar and cream with a dash of coffee.” Placing the thermal cup and his bottle of water on the boulder, he took out his own sandwich.

The sun warmed her shoulders as he turned to brace his back against the stone, her thighs on either side of his bigger, more muscular frame. When she pressed an impulsive kiss to his nape, he made a low, rumbling sound in his chest, a wolf pleased. All of her—body and soul—trembled in visceral response.

Dangerous, she thought, this was so dangerous. Too many pieces of her in his hands. She had to hold something back, some part of her that would protect her against the nights she woke to find him lying awake, a faraway expression on his face. Because it would happen—no matter the passionate tenderness growing ever deeper between them, she was second best, would always be second best.

The harsh truth of it bruised her heart. Putting down her mostly
uneaten sandwich, she rubbed her hand surreptitiously over the organ. She didn’t know if she was trying to quell the ache or contain the wild fury of what she felt for Riaz. But she had the sinking feeling it was too late. Perhaps it had been too late the instant her wolf first responded to him, the attraction visceral.

Having finished his sandwich, he turned to grab his water, saw hers. “Eat the rest.”

Already on edge, she bristled. “Since when do you get to give me orders?”

Eyes of pale gold met hers, lashed by black silk. “Since I realized you have a tendency to not eat properly.” Picking up the sandwich, he held it out.

She took it, placed it back down. “Don’t try to control me.”

Riaz’s voice was a deep rumble. “I will not let my woman mistreat herself. Eat the sandwich or we’ll be here all day.”

My woman.

Her throat choked up, until she couldn’t speak, every part of her hotly conscious of the hand he’d placed once more on her thigh. A couple of inches higher and he could slide that big hand to cup her with the same intimacy he’d done last night, in the hushed dark of her bed. The rough heat of his body so close, the dusky bronze of his skin an invitation to her lips, it stole her mind, made it impossible to think.

Pushing aside his hand, she brought her legs up to crouch on the boulder—then jumped off the other side. “Maybe I’ll eat the sandwich later”—her heartbeat punching into her throat—“if I feel like it.” This had nothing to do with the sandwich, they both knew that.

Narrowed eyes. “You really want to challenge me over this?”

His tone raised her wolf’s hackles … and shot adrenaline through her body. “You know, why don’t you eat it, since you seem to like it so much.” With that, she turned and sauntered into the forest, ensuring her hips swayed in a way designed to further arouse his most dominant instincts.

RIAZ
stared into the trees where Adria had disappeared, his wolf at snarling attention. If she thought he’d just let her go after that kind of provocation, she had no idea who she was dealing with. Taking the
sandwich, he wrapped it up in the paper bag and slid it into the pocket of his jeans. It was going to be squashed all to hell by the time he ran her down, but his empress would damn well eat it.

A grim smile on his lips, he was on his way into the forest when a small body barreled into his legs. “Whoa!” Grabbing the pup, Riaz set him upright.

But the boy wobbled, his face screwed up in a childish effort not to cry.

“Hey.” Crouching down, Riaz checked the pup over, discovered a sprained ankle. “Come on, little buddy.” He took the boy into his arms. “We’d better go see Lara.”

The distraught pup attached himself to Riaz like a limpet and wouldn’t let go until his mother arrived at the infirmary, by which time Adria had a fifteen-minute head start. However, Riaz was a lieutenant and one of the best trackers in the pack. It took him only two minutes to pick up the crushed berries and ice and wild musk of her scent, another thirty seconds to realize two very important things.

One, Adria had run full-tilt the instant she was out of his sight; and two, she’d made an attempt to cover her tracks, so she clearly understood the consequences of the gauntlet she’d thrown in his face. His blood turned hot, the chase suddenly a very adult game … until her tracks, no longer concealed in any way, showed that she’d slowed down to a walk.

He bared his teeth.

Adria thought he’d given up. That was her second mistake. Her first had been to taunt him in the first place. Stalking her in silence, he tracked his quarry to a natural pool fed by two streams, taking care to remain upwind. A pile of discarded clothes lay on the bank, but that wasn’t what drew his eye.

Sleek and wet, she rose up out of the clear water, reaching back to squeeze the excess moisture out of her hair. Her nipples were hard, bitable points from the chill of the wind, her skin cream licked with gold. Flexing and unflexing hands that wanted to stroke and pet and possess, he dipped his gaze to the dark triangle between her thighs, his body rigid with the need to drive his cock into the molten tightness of her.

No more running, my stubborn, beautiful soldier.

Chapter 50

ADRIA FINISHED WRINGING
out her hair and considered whether or not to use her T-shirt to blot her body dry. She could always shift and return home in wolf form. It might be best if she did, because she wasn’t sure she could hide the painful depth of her disappointment otherwise.

The chase had been a test, a game put in motion by the wolf that lived within her, wary and hopeful and with the courage to roll the dice. She’d needed to know Riaz cared enough to be pissed off, enough to follow. Changeling males who’d claimed a female were touchy about the kind of challenge she’d handed down,
never
simply allowed one to pass. That he had made it clear that though he’d called her “his” woman, it was only the shallowest of commitme—

“I like what you’re wearing.”

She was hauled back against a hard male body, one of his hands splayed possessively on her navel, the other cupping her breast to pluck at her nipple before the import of that deep male voice registered. Her pulse turned into a hammer, her breath coming in soft gasps.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” he murmured in a way she knew meant trouble. “Pup emergency.”

Relief and exhilaration threatened to make her melt against him … but she was a dominant female wolf. Slicing out her claws, she went to break his hold, but he’d read her intent—she found herself being spun around, her wrists imprisoned behind her back. He was using only one hand, but his hold was unbreakable.

“That wasn’t nice.” He gripped her jaw hard enough that she couldn’t
use her teeth against him, and bent to take a bite out of the side of her breast.

“That hurt!” She clenched her thighs, the delicate folds between her legs slick with a moisture that made lie of her attempt at a snarl.
“Riaz.”

Hot, wet laps of his tongue. “You liked it.” He squeezed her jaw in warning when she growled low in her throat, eyes of wolf gold looking into her own. “Behave.”

She might not have been a lieutenant, but neither was she a submissive. Not telegraphing her actions in any way, she brought up her knee at the same time that she snapped forward her head.

Rearing away, Riaz blocked the groin strike, but the dual attack distracted him enough that she was able to free herself. Slashing out with her claws before he could regain his balance, she scored four perfect lines across his chest, shredding his tee. Red seeped into the edges of the white fabric, but the cuts weren’t deep. Only enough to remind him that he was playing with a strong, dangerous woman, not an untried girl.

Tugging off the torn T-shirt, he threw it aside. “Now,” he said, stalking her with slow, prowling steps and an unblinking stare, “I’ll have to do more than just bite you.”

Oh, God.
Seeing his nostrils flare, the tang of her arousal thick in the air, she fought the primal urge to pin him to the earth skin to skin, and shot him a deliberately provocative smile. “I don’t see you anywhere near me.”