Tangle of Need (51 page)

A sharp lance of pain, and she thought, perhaps it was better to do this here. If they went behind closed doors and he fought her, she might give in. But out there, with packmates at the far end of the corridor, and the exit not far behind her, she was, in a strange way, protected from her own weakness where he was concerned.

Drawing back until she could look into his face, she said, “I saw Lisette—she told me she’s getting a divorce from her husband.”

No surprise on his face, just the intense determination of a dominant who intended to get his own way. “It doesn’t change this, doesn’t change
us
.”

“It changes everything.” Her voice a harsh whisper, she stepped back, breaking the connection between them.

He didn’t like that—she saw it in the flash of temper in eyes gone pure wolf.

Breath a jagged blade in her chest, she shook her head. “Don’t tell me you don’t wonder, don’t th—”

“I fucking don’t!” He grabbed her upper arms, held her in place, the raw fury in his voice a wild thing. “I made my choice, and I chose you.
Don’t you do this.
Don’t you destroy us.”

It was so tempting to give in, but she knew that in spite of what she’d tried to convince herself, the idea of his mate would always be a painful silence between them. Still … she wasn’t that self-sacrificing. She wanted to keep him, and if he wanted to stay, surely it was all right?

Agony seared her blood, her wolf howling in bone-deep sorrow.

And she knew she loved him too much to steal this joy from him. “Go,” she whispered, and it was torn out of her. “Be happy.”

The sound that came out of Riaz’s throat was that of a mortally wounded animal. Gripping her nape, he hauled her against him.
“No.”
A single brutal word spoken against her ear.

Tears burned in her eyes, choked up her throat. She wanted so
desperately to hold on, just hold on, but in her head played the nightmare of waking up one day to find that he hated her, as Martin had hated her. Her former lover had resented her strength, but Riaz would have a far deeper reason to hate her.

No, she wouldn’t do that—to him, or to herself.

She was worth more. She was worth being the first, the only. Not second best, not the one who’d caught this incredible man when he was hurting from a loss a changeling alone could understand … not just a trusted friend he couldn’t bear to hurt. “Go,” she whispered again, brushing her lips over his jaw in a final caress that held her heart. “She’s yours. You need her, and she needs you.” Ripping herself out of his arms, she shoved through the nearby exit and began to run.

Her feet pounded the earth, her blood thudded in her veins, and her heart … it splintered into a million fragments.

RIAZ
stared at the exit. He could catch her—the crushed berries and ice and hidden warmth of her scent was embedded in his every cell. He could track her through wind and hail and snow. But he couldn’t go after her.

Not now.

Not when he didn’t know the words to say to convince her of a love that had come to define him, a love that bore the name of his prickly, generous, beautiful Adria.

“Fuck.” He slammed his fist into the stone wall of the den, scraping the skin and leaving a streak of blood behind. It barely registered. Instead of howling with possessive fury, he grit his teeth, reined in his wolf—who clawed at him in a confusion of rage and pain—and strode out the same door Adria had used.

He needed to think, to plan. Because no way in hell was he letting her go. She was his, had given herself to him. He wasn’t a generous man when it came to his empress, wouldn’t return her heart. It goddamned belonged to him and he was keeping it.

Fighting his most primal instincts, he ran in the opposite direction from the one she’d taken, pushing himself so hard that his powerful changeling chest hurt with the force of his breaths. Still he ran. Until he
was in the thinner air of the higher elevations, the sky riotous with the fiery dance of sunset, and his body forced him to stop. Bracing himself with his palms on his thighs, he gasped in the crisp, clean air, his heart pumping hot and rapid.

It wasn’t as much of a surprise as it should’ve been to see a huge silver-gold wolf materialize out of the trees. Hawke wasn’t alpha simply because he was stronger and faster than the other wolves in the den—he was alpha because he knew his people. Shoving a hand through his sweat-damp hair, Riaz jogged over to the edge of a stream fed by the mountain snows, and threw water onto his face. The chill of it shocked.

When Hawke shifted beside him, he didn’t look at his alpha. It wasn’t the fact the other man was nude—such nakedness after a shift was an accepted part of a changeling’s life, nothing to be remarked upon—but because he had no desire to talk to anyone. “I need to be alone.” It was only Adria he’d allow close to him whenever she wanted. Everyone else could get out and stay there.

Hawke’s response was resolute. “Nell saw you smash your hand into the wall—she thought you probably broke a bone and never noticed. What the hell happened?”

His rage simmered, needing an outlet. “I said,
leave me alone
.” Deciding to make his point explicit, he shifted into wolf form, lips peeled back to flash his canines.

Hawke changed between one heartbeat and the next, his eyes staring Riaz down. Except Riaz was in no mood for a dominance display. Snarling, he launched his body toward Hawke’s, claws out.

They met in a clash of fur and blood and fury.

Chapter 62

TEN MINUTES LATER,
he threw water on his face again, winced. The cut over his eye had bled plenty, and his cheekbone felt as if it was crushed, though it was probably just a heavy bruise. The only consolation was that Hawke hadn’t come out of it unscathed—though he had managed to slam Riaz to the ground at the end, sink his teeth into the scruff of Riaz’s neck.

“You were fighting angry,” the alpha now said. “Made you sloppy.”

Blowing out a breath, Riaz flexed his hand. “Nell was wrong by the way. Nothing broken.” Though his hand was red and raw, his knuckles scraped.

“You ready to talk now?”

“You usually beat your lieutenants to get them to talk?”

Hawke’s bark of laughter was genuine. “Ask Riley sometime.” Running his hand over the fur of one of the wild wolves who had come to stand guard while they fought, the alpha met Riaz’s gaze. “Adria?”

Riaz wasn’t a lone wolf just because he liked solitude. He didn’t trust many people with his innermost thoughts, was happier keeping his silence. Except this time, he knew he needed his alpha’s help. Taking a quiet breath, he began to speak.

“Shit, Riaz,” Hawke said when he finished. “Hell of a mess.”

“Tell me you have the answer.” Hawke was the sole person in the den who might. “You’re the only wolf I know who found his mate twice.”

“Have you?”

Riaz sucked in a breath, the pain in his chest stabbing deeper. “Adria is mine.” He would not budge on that, not now, not ever. She’d just have
to get used to that fact. “But the mating tug, it’s towards Lisette.” Though it was no longer a feral, possessive rush, but a gentle knowing at the back of his mind, in itself a strange thing, given that he was a predatory changeling male—then again, nothing about this situation was “normal” in any way.

Hawke’s hair caught the light as the other man shook his head. “If I told you I had the answer, I’d be a liar.”

“Yeah.” There was a single critical difference between his situation and Hawke’s—the child Hawke believed would have been his mate, had died when Hawke had been a boy. “If Rissa had lived…”

“I wouldn’t have been the same man,” Hawke said simply. “I’d have been mated for years before I ever met Sienna, and that life would’ve shaped me in a wholly different way.” A wry smile. “Who knows, I might even have been a nice guy.”

Unexpected amusement threaded through the tangled knot of Riaz’s emotions. “I can just see you baking cupcakes.”

For some reason, that made Hawke howl with laughter before his alpha shifted and padded into the stream, the wild wolves following in his steps. Riaz’s own wolf stretched inside him, wanting out. He surrendered to the need, following Hawke across the stream and even higher up into the mountains. Their small pack loped at an easy pace, the wind rippling through their fur, the scents in the air sharp and brittle with cold.

The beauty of the Sierra Nevada hit his heart anew and he wondered how he could’ve ever left this place of mountain and forest, lakes and rivers. It hurt his heart, the love he felt for this land. Scrambling up onto a small hillock formed by fallen rocks, he lifted his head and sang of his joy at being home … and of finding the one who was meant to be his. His pack joined in his song, and it was good.

Padding back down, he ran again.

When the pack halted, it was beside a mirror-perfect lake. Riaz assuaged his thirst before shifting, his mind if not calm, then at least a fraction less disordered. Sparks of color beside him denoted Hawke’s own shift. Neither of them spoke for long, quiet moments as the early evening
wind rustled through the trees, the fiery sky above curling with an edge of indigo blue.

“Are you in the mating dance with Lisette?” Hawke asked at last, scratching the head of the wild wolf that had curled up beside him. “Because if you are, your wolf’s made the decision for you and trying to fight it will destroy you.”

“No.” Neither man nor wolf wanted to be in the dance with Lisette—the idea of it felt wrong on every level, a betrayal so vast, it made his wolf snarl in defiance. “All Lisette and I ever had between us was a possibility.” And he knew in his gut that the time for that possibility to come to fruition had passed, regardless of any accepted rule. “Have you ever known a wolf in a relationship to find his mate?”

Hawke took time to reply. “I’ve known couples who’ve been together for years to suddenly develop a mating bond. I’ve always thought that perhaps the human’s choice influences the wolf’s, or maybe two people come into perfect sync after that time together—kind of like Indigo and Drew knowing each other for so long before they mated.”

Riaz understood what his alpha was saying, had seen the same thing himself, but—

“That’s not the question I asked.”

Husky-pale eyes locked with Riaz’s. “The answer is no. Love without the bond, where the wolf
accepts
the lover, rather than being neutral about it, seems to stop the mating bond coming into play with anyone else.” Pausing, he added, “Simplest explanation is that the commitment takes the place of the mating bond.”

“So if I’d met Adria first”—fallen so fucking hard for her first—“I wouldn’t have to deal with this.” A situation where the woman he adored thought he was meant for another.

“Yeah, likely.” Hawke patted the side of the wolf whose head he’d been scratching, and it reluctantly made room for another. “Dalton might know more about this than either one of us,” the alpha said, naming the pack’s Librarian, “but there is something else I can tell you.”

Riaz waited.

“The choice isn’t yours—it’s always the woman who accepts or rejects the bond.”

“Hell it isn’t.” Riaz’s
claws sliced out of his skin. “The female might accept the bond, but I damn well bet you the male’s got to be willing. This one isn’t.” Once, he would’ve sold his soul to be Lisette’s, but something fundamental had changed in him, his soul reborn from a crucible of shattering pain. He’d survived, come out of it scarred, altered, stronger, a man who loved a soldier and had no desire to turn back the clock.

“It’s Adria’s face I see when I think of home.” Adria’s eyes of blue-violet that looked back at him from the faces of the children he’d started to imagine since that night in the moonlit meadow where she had become his. “Adria who holds my secrets.”

“You’d walk away from the woman meant to be your mate?”

“Yes.” Maybe it wasn’t a choice any other wolf would ever make—hell, the idea might even horrify—but no other wolf had lived the life that had led up to this moment. “I’ve found the woman who’s meant to be mine.” The woman who had his wolf’s wild devotion.

“Are you sure?” his alpha asked, though he’d just given his answer.

Riaz met the other man’s gaze, his anger so deep he knew his eyes were those of the predator that lived within him.

But Hawke didn’t back down. “You’re talking about Adria’s life,” he said. “You have to be certain you’re never going to turn around and see a lack in her.”

Riaz wasn’t even aware of reacting. He just knew he had his clawed hand around Hawke’s throat, his alpha’s hand gripping his wrist in a punishing hold.

Pale blue eyes met his own, Hawke’s own wolf calm.

Growling low in his throat, he withdrew his hand, his claws slicing back into his skin. “I died, Hawke.” Brutal words. “When I first saw Lisette and realized she’d never be mine, I broke into so many pieces I was the walking dead when I returned to the den.”

It was Adria who’d forced him back to life, who’d challenged, fought, and played with him until he wasn’t only alive but wildly, gloriously so. “I trust Adria on a level I don’t even trust you.” As was right. A wolf should trust his mate more than any other … yet Adria wasn’t his mate, except in his heart. “My wolf trusts her.” He let that wolf rise to the surface, let it color his eyes and his voice.

Hawke blew out a breath. “As your mate, Lisette has the potential to earn an even deeper trust.”

Riaz snorted, conscious the alpha was playing devil’s advocate. “And you have the potential to take up knitting.” The wolf thought in far more concrete terms, and it had given its loyalty and its heart to Adria. That someone else
might
be a better fit, even when that someone else promised to be its mate? It was a pointless consideration.

A quiet nod, an acceptance. “What’re you going to do?”

“Convince Adria I mean what I say.” He’d accept no other outcome.

ADRIA
made certain she swapped tasks and shifts to ensure there was no chance of running into Riaz. Her skin hurt, her bed a cold place she hated, her entire body aching with a loss that made her feel as if she’d been beaten. She wasn’t sure she could stop herself from reaching for him if she saw him.