Wild Embrace

by Nalini Singh

  Sitting down with a toasted bagel that she spread with cream cheese for her own lunch, Meenakshi sighed. “Twenty-seven years and six months since I discovered this and it remains my delicious nemesis.” She took a big bite, made a blissful sound in her throat.

  Desiree laughed. “I know. My fault.” Meenakshi had apparently started craving bagels with cream cheese during her first pregnancy, hadn’t been able to eat them during her second, then started again right afterward. “At least I didn’t make you eat pickles and strawberry ice cream. Together.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened. “Who’s eating that?”

  “Ria,” Desiree said, knowing Meenakshi hated missing out on any interpack gossip. “Annie told me Ria sent Emmett out in the middle of the night to find pickles. He bought a jumbo jar and she ate them inside of a day.” She shook her head. “Apparently, she dips the pickles in the ice cream.”

  Meenakshi’s smile was affectionate. “I can’t wait for their cub to be born. And I bet you the baby grows up and either hates pickles or adores them. No middle ground. Just like you can’t stand cream cheese and your sister loves bananas more than is good for her.”

  “Sonu call yesterday or today?” Her sister, Sonal, might be roaming the world, but she made sure to touch base regularly, aware Meenakshi worried about her “cublets.”

  Her mother’s face lit up even as she groaned. “Look at this!” She thrust her phone at Desiree. “Your sister is jumping off perfectly good bridges, just like you did!”

  Desiree laughed at the image of her younger sibling’s gleeful grin as she bungee jumped off a mist-shrouded bridge somewhere in South America. She decided not to tell her mom that Sonal had already jumped out of a plane. Twice. Those messages had come directly to Desiree. For a cat, her sister had an unusually strong taste for the air. No surprise then that Sonal intended to become a pilot once she’d satisfied her need to roam.

  They spoke about Sonal and about other family things until Desiree was halfway through her meal. At which point, she told her mother everything, because that was what she’d always done—Meenakshi’s love was a fierce force of nature. It centered and comforted Desiree as much as her father’s calm, solid presence.

  “Hmm,” Meenakshi said afterward. “He’s right, your Felix.”

  “He’s not my Felix.” That was the problem.

  “Stop sulking, cublet. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “I only do it with you.”

  Laughing softly, Meenakshi reached out to tweak one of Desiree’s braids. “My pretty, brilliant baby, you know what you’re like. Your cat fights chains tooth and nail. It’ll take a very strong man indeed to tie you down.”

  “He’s strong,” Desiree said with a scowl. “Submissive doesn’t mean weak, you know that.” That was a mistake only outsiders ever made. Every changeling raised in a balanced pack knew that all submissives would fight to the death to protect the vulnerable under their care, their courage unflinching even under attack from dominants they could have no hope of defeating.

  Meenakshi raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I know that. But does your leopard know that?”

  Desiree worried her lower lip with her teeth, the leopard prowling frustrated and confused inside her skin. “I want him more than I’ve ever wanted a man in my life,” she whispered. “And I can’t bear to hurt him.”

  She met her mother’s intent gaze. “He’s so talented, Mom, so gifted. I swear he literally coaxes the trees to settle into the soil, to grow.” Rubbing a fisted hand against her heart, she swallowed. “I feel this hunger to know him, to find out all the pieces of him and hold those pieces close so nothing can ever harm him.”

  Meenakshi set her cup on the table. “That’s more than want, sweetheart.”

  “I know.” She folded her arms around her middle, hugging herself tight. “I just don’t know if it’s enough for Felix.”

  • • •

  A week after she’d agreed to be his friend and nothing more, Felix watched Desiree joke with a fellow DarkRiver soldier as all the adults who’d been helping with the planting that day gathered for an impromptu party. The soldiers had worked out a watch rotation that meant everyone could join in, and Felix had done a run up to the den in the truck to sneak out food and drinks.

  Now they sat among the trees to the left of the denuded section, the dark gold of sunset turning the entire area into an oil painting. Felix, seated with his back against a pine, a beer in his left hand, should’ve been relaxed, content. He was ahead of schedule, the mood of the pack lifting with each new square of greenery. The seedlings were taking well, and he had every hope that by this time next year, the denuded area would be covered thickly enough that the pack no longer saw it as a vulnerability.

  Instead of being happy, however, he was irritable and aggravated, and it wasn’t difficult to figure out why. His body hadn’t let him get much sleep since the day Desiree stepped out of the trees and sauntered over to him on those stunning legs currently encased in sleek black jeans. He dreamed about the lemon spice and wild cat scent of her, woke up aroused and hungry. Meanwhile, she was leaning against the big male leopard, shoulder to shoulder, the two of them so easy with skin privileges they’d probably end up in bed tonight.

  Squeezing his beer bottle tight to the point that he was in danger of fracturing it, he got up and decided to walk off his mood. He left the bottle on a crate the others were using as a table and, hands in the pockets of his jeans, began to stride toward a stream about a ten-minute walk away—hopefully, his head would be in the right space by the time he made the round-trip.

  Lemon spice in the air.

  “Felix.”

  Freezing at the sound of that husky voice, he hesitated only a split second before carrying on.

  She came after him, her long legs matching his stride, though he was a solid five inches taller. “You’re mad at me.”

  He gritted his jaw. “No.”

  “You’ve been scowling at me since the party started. What did I do?”

  “Nothing.” No, she’d been . . . friendly. No more dazzling smile, no more flirting, no more sense of invitation in her voice. It was exactly what he’d asked for, and it infuriated him.

  Not leaving, she kept walking with him until they were far enough away from the party that Felix could no longer hear the others. Then she cut in front of him. Bringing himself to a halt, he stared past her gray-T-shirt-clad shoulder, though having her this close to his neck deeply discomforted his wolf. A single move and she could rip out his jugular, sever his carotid.

  “I’m stubborn, Felix.” Her voice held the edge of a growl. “Tell me what I did to offend you.”

  He knew he was tangling with a stronger predator, his wolf clawing at him to back off, but he couldn’t. Not today. “I want to go for a walk. Do I need to ask your permission?”

  Flinching, she unfolded her arms. “Fine.” She stalked past him, back toward the party. “Do what you want.”

  Fuck. He stared after her, knowing he should let her go. “Dezi.” If she didn’t stop, he couldn’t make her. That was the thing. He couldn’t ever make her do anything she didn’t want to do, would always have to trust that she’d never break his faith if they . . .

  She stopped, turned on her heel. “Yes?”

  Shoulders tight at the edgy response, he looked at the ground, back at her. “You can come with, if you want.”

  A glare, but she fell in beside him again, and they walked in silence all the way to the stream. Sunset was fading into evening by the time they arrived to take a seat on a fallen log beside the water; Felix’s vision had adapted automatically to the fading light and he knew hers would’ve done the same.

  Hand fisting and unfisting by his side, he finally blurted it out. “Are you going home with him?”

  “Who?” She angled her body slightly toward him. “Barker?” It was an incredulous q
uestion.

  Felix stared out at the trees on the other side of the stream, his skin flushing from the force of her gaze. “Why do you sound like that? He’s a strong dominant. The females in my pack find him very attractive.”

  “We trained together,” Desiree said dryly. “I’ve put him flat on his back in a fight multiple times—that doesn’t make me want to jump his bones.”

  He was the one who flinched this time. Because should it ever come to a physical fight between the two of them, Desiree would eviscerate him. He didn’t have the killer instinct of a dominant, didn’t want it.

  Groaning, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Why do I always say the wrong things around you?”

  It startled him, the uncertainty in her tone. Chancing a glance at her, the weight of her head against his shoulder something that gave him pleasure, he said, “I don’t know what to say to you, either.”

  “That’s not true.” Her braids moved against him as she shook her head. “We have perfectly great conversations when other people are around.”

  She was right. He now knew that she loved climbing, that her mom was overprotective and made her check in after a night shift even though she’d moved out years ago, and that, same as him, she had a younger sister she adored. “I like talking to you,” he admitted.

  It was worth the admission of vulnerability to see her lips curve in that smile, the dazzling one she hadn’t given him for a week. “Ditto.” A frown and she shifted to straddle the fallen trunk so she was facing his profile. “What if we’re wrong, Felix?”

  He hated losing her touch, even if it had only been through his shirt. “What?”

  “Us.” The single word fell between them, bringing silence in its wake. “We’re both just assuming we can’t make it—what if we could?”

  Felix forced himself to breathe. “Your cat—”

  “Wants to bite you, lick you, claw you a little.” Her voice dropped. “Just enough for it to feel good.”

  His body pounded, his blood hot. Digging his nails into the palm of his hand, he made himself say it. “Skin privileges aren’t enough.”

  “They’re a start.” Shifting closer, she still didn’t touch him. “Don’t you think if you’re getting grumpy about me being near another man, you should reassess your friends-only rule?”

  He swallowed, considered how he’d feel if she did go home with another man. His wolf raged, clawing and slashing inside his mind. And he knew he was about to make what could well be the biggest mistake of his life. “Okay,” he said, even as another part of him screamed that he was being a stupid goddamned idiot a second time around.

  Only this time, it was worse. He’d been a pup when Carisma tore him up. He was a full-grown man now, his emotions mature. If he did this with Desiree and it all went wrong, then he wasn’t sure he’d have it in him to ever again take a risk on a woman.

  Chapter 4

  Desiree froze, not sure she’d heard Felix right. “Okay?” She shifted another inch closer to him. “Baby, you have to be crystal clear. I won’t touch you otherwise.” She couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk even the whisper of coercion. “You hold the reins here.”

  His breath hitched, one of his hands locked around the wrist of the other where he sat with his arms braced on his knees. “Not just friends,” he said, quiet but resolute. “I want skin privileges.”

  “Intimate?” She pushed because she had to be sure.

  A nod.

  Shuddering, she shifted close enough that the front of her body pressed against the side of his. “You have no idea how hard it’s been to keep my distance this past week,” she whispered, wrenching back her instinct to take, to brand; first she had to coax him to her. “I dream of you.” She raised one hand to gently trace the line of his jaw, felt heat burn under his skin.

  Not all submissives were shy, but her submissive was. Desiree had never thought she’d find that hot, but oh, she did. She wanted to seduce him until he smiled that gorgeous smile at her, the one that melted her knees and stole her breath, wanted to coax him until he stopped being so stiff and wary and turned to her in total trust.

  That, however, would take time. She was asking his wolf to trust a predator with far bigger teeth, asking him to fight his primal instinct to get the hell away. Forcing her leopard into patience, she continued to stroke the line of his jaw, loving being able to touch him. His skin was rough with stubble, the abrasive texture delicious.

  Caress by gentle caress, she coaxed him, her body a wall around his own but one that didn’t trap. When he did finally relax, turning his face a fraction into her caresses, she felt like purring. Instead, she petted him some more, saw his hand ease its grip on his other wrist, saw the blood rush back into his abused skin. Unable to totally resist temptation, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his jaw.

  The masculine heat of him burned into her, his physical strength gloriously apparent in the flex of his body as he turned enough that it was an invitation. Heart slamming against her ribs, she cupped the side of his face and drew him into a slow, sweet kiss. He tasted so good, felt good, smelled good. She wanted to devour her gorgeous Felix piece by piece.

  Coax, be gentle, seduce, she reminded herself. Slow, slow, slow.

  His arm came around her at last and she was startled to feel his hand close gently over her nape. It was a possessive hold she’d have expected from a dominant, but then again, she’d never dated a submissive.

  Leopard unworried by it because it knew it could escape the tie at any time, it brushed against the inside of Desiree’s skin, intent on sinning blissfully with her wolf. He tasted of a lick of beer, but underneath the bitterness of hops was a taste that was pure, healthy male. Pure Felix. She tried to shift closer, was stopped by the way they were seated, his upper body twisted to meet her kiss.

  Placing her hand on his throat, she—

  He wasn’t there any longer, having jerked away to the other side of the trunk. Reeling, she tried to think what she’d done, but her mind was too scrambled, her breasts swollen and aching. She shifted off the trunk to go to the stream, kneel down, and throw some cold water on her face. The shock of it made her cat bristle, snapped her mind awake. “I touched your throat.”

  Felix, his own breathing not exactly even, said, “It’s a sensitive area.”

  Desiree wanted to slap herself. That was a sensitive area in leopard culture, too, but doubly so in wolf. She went to apologize, found her leopard against it. Closing her mouth, she tried to unravel the animal’s thinking. “Want to try again?” she asked, facing Felix.

  His eyes widened before a slow smile dawned on his lips. “Not turned off yet?”

  Desiree realized she truly wasn’t. It was fun seducing him—her leopard really, really liked playing with Felix. “Not even close.” Prowling closer in slow movements that didn’t threaten, she knelt in front of him, her hands on his knees. “You’ll have to bend closer.” He was several inches taller than her, and seated on the trunk as he was, it put him even higher.

  Lips still holding the edge of a smile, he dipped his head toward her. This time, she kept her hands on his knees as she seduced him with her mouth. His own was firm, mobile, delicious. When she bit down a little to test how he’d react, he shuddered.

  Okay, then, she thought with an inward grin, her wolf wasn’t against biting.

  Pricking him gently with her claws through his jeans, she licked over the sensual hurt . . . and he put a careful hand on the back of her neck again, sliding beneath her braids. It was asking for permission but it was also possessive. She liked it. Purring in her throat, she let him know she didn’t take it as a threat and his hand curved firmly around her nape, skin to skin.

  His breath ragged, he said, “I can feel your purr.”

  “Imagine what it’ll be like when we’re both naked.”

  Red on his cheeks. It made her want to pounce on
him. God, he was adorable. In a hotly sexy way, all big shoulders and gentle hands. She couldn’t resist kissing him some more, the feel of his muscles going taut under her lightly stroking fingers seducing her in turn. She’d always thought she liked it hard and fast and a little rough, with a partner who fought her for control, but there was definitely nothing wrong with coaxing a wolf to play with her. Not at all.

  Breasts aching, she shifted a little farther between his legs . . . and immediately felt his thrumming awareness. Careful, she warned herself, careful, careful. Staying otherwise motionless, she used her mouth to pet him until some of the renewed tension leached out of his body. Then, and much as she wanted to take this all the way, claim full sexual skin privileges, she eased back.

  Those skin privileges would take time and intense trust on Felix’s part.

  In bed, he’d be more vulnerable than he’d ever before been, reliant on her word that she wouldn’t use her dominance to force compliance. It was something she’d never before considered, and it made her realize just how much courage it took to be a submissive in a predatory changeling pack, how much heart.

  Nuzzling the side of his face as he stroked his hand over her nape, she said, “Want to shift and go running together?”

  • • •

  Felix’s wolf adored running with Desiree. He was bigger than her as a wolf, but she was so sleek and fast that when they raced, it was an even competition. He even beat her a few times, and she pretended to sulk. It made his wolf bare its canines in a laugh, but only when she wasn’t looking—the animal wasn’t yet sure she wouldn’t take the sight as a challenge. A physical fight between them could have only one ending.

  He might be bigger, might even be stronger, but he wasn’t a predator. Not in that way. Desiree was built to protect those she called her own, built to fight claw and tooth, built with the ruthless ability to take down anyone in her path. Without her ferocity and that of the other dominants, her pack would be easy prey for their enemies.