by Nalini Singh
“They’re welcoming you,” he whispered, his chest vibrating with the need to add his voice to the song, “not as my mate, but as their alpha’s mate.” The distinction was important, and when untrammeled sunshine lit up her face, he knew she understood.
A rustle of giggling and whispering sounded on the last echo of the harmony, and suddenly, they were faced with the pups. Tarah stood unobtrusively to the side, where the youngest ones could see her. A graceful wave of her hand and the children began to sing, their voices high and sweet and full of innocence fragile as glass.
He saw from the surprise on Riley’s face that the kids had managed to keep this a secret. His wolf’s heart burst in pride. Tucking Sienna’s hand to his side, he glanced down to see an iridescent shimmer over the night-sky of her gaze. Her cousin, Marlee, was among the singers, as was her brother, Toby—still young enough to not mind joining the children, but old and lanky enough that he’d had to find a space right at the back. He held a chubby two-year-old in his arms, her singing enthusiastic if not altogether coherent.
It was on the final chorus that his mate surprised him, adding her voice with a playful grace that delighted the children. Afterward, hands linked, the pups took multiple giggling bows while thunderous applause filled the clearing. When a little girl escaped on sturdy legs to make a beeline for Hawke, he scooped her up and received a bright-eyed and somewhat sloppy kiss for his trouble.
Grinning, he passed her to her laughing father, her baby pink dress frothing over the man’s sun-browned arm. “This one’s going to give you trouble.”
“She’s the nursery flirt,” the other man said, tapping at the pup’s nose in loving reproof.
It was a far more elegant female who came forward next, her petite body sheathed in an ankle-length cheongsam of deep yellow silk, her glossy black hair in a neat twist. Nell represented not simply the maternals, but everyone in SnowDancer who didn’t identify as a dominant. In her arms she held a beautiful handmade quilt, the craftsmanship exquisite. “Each family in the den contributed a piece to this, thus each block is unique.” She handed the precious gift to Sienna.
Reaching behind her to another one of the maternal females, Nell accepted what appeared to be an old-fashioned tapestry. “We created this from threads sent in by families across the territory.” This, she put into Hawke’s arms, pressing her lips to his cheek before turning to do the same to Sienna, the evocative brown of her uptilted eyes shimmering with affection. “You are loved, and you are ours.”
Handling the gifts with the care they deserved, Hawke and Sienna gave them into the gentle keeping of two of the elders who stood with them. A moment later, quiet, often reserved Alexei stepped forward and leaned in to kiss Sienna’s cheek, one strong hand cupping her left shoulder. “Welcome.” The young lieutenant’s hair glinted gold in the colored lights strung across the Pack Circle as he turned to Hawke and began swearing his fealty.
It was an unexpected development, but Hawke responded automatically, slicing his palm with the knife Tomás threw him, so that a single drop of his blood splashed onto Alexei’s open hand.
Sienna watched, calm as a mountain lake, but he could feel her tension along the mating bond. He’d forgotten to explain to her—because it had slipped his own mind—that when an alpha mated, or bonded to a permanent partner, his lieutenants had to reaffirm their allegiance. It was a directive meant to protect the pack if an alpha chose a woman the pack couldn’t trust or respect—because even the most powerful wolf couldn’t rule without the loyalty of his strongest packmates. In such a situation, the pack inevitably split, the old alpha leaving with his supporters.
It was a measure of Hawke’s bond with his men and women that he hadn’t even thought of the possibility of that outcome.
Alexei fisted his hand over the drop of blood and stepped back, the moment solemn … until he winked at Sienna. Hawke felt her tension ease at once, right before she was picked up off her feet and kissed on the mouth by Matthias, her startled hands flying up to land on the arms of the lieutenant who was built like a tank.
Hawke growled. “Careful.”
An unrepentant grin creasing the smooth dark of a face that had beguiled many a woman, Matthias put Sienna on her feet. “He ever chase you down a corridor again, sweetheart, you know who to call.”
Sienna held her own. “I think I rather enjoy being caught.”
Then Matthias was in front of him, swearing his allegiance. And so it continued until all ten of his lieutenants had completed the task. Each oath was different, because there were no set words for this. It was only the meaning that mattered. The loyalty. A sigh of happiness rippled around the Pack Circle as Riley closed his hand over the drop of Hawke’s blood.
It was done.
His pack had accepted both his mate and his mating. Not simply accepted, he thought when another multiharmonic howl went up, but celebrated. This time, he didn’t resist, and drawing Sienna’s back against his chest, threw back his own head to sing, his cut hand fisted tight to still the blood flow. Against him, he could feel his mate’s body vibrating with the beauty of the music, the wildfire of her blinding along their bond.
When Tomás grabbed her for a dance, Hawke didn’t protest. Possessive though it was, his wolf understood that Sienna belonged to the pack, too, and that they’d lay down their lives for her. It didn’t mean she’d have an easy road when it came to making her place in SnowDancer, but tonight, his wolves told her they knew she was the right mate for their alpha, regardless of her age and inexperience. They would stand by her as she grew into her strength.
It was a gift to Hawke’s heart.
Chapter 18
RILEY’S SHOULDER NUDGED Hawke’s, as in front of them, other couples joined in the dancing and Sienna was passed from Tomás to Kenji. “You do realize you’ll have to fight to get near her tonight?”
Hawke glanced at his senior lieutenant to see Riley’s eyes lingering on his own mate. Dressed in a graceful azure dress that hit a few inches above the knee and flared out when she spun, shiny black ankle boots on her feet, her red hair pulled off her face by two small combs, Mercy was currently dancing—and laughing—with Drew. She was the only leopard in attendance, because this was a private moment for the pack—and as far as SnowDancer was concerned, Mercy was theirs. No matter how much Lucas might disagree.
Lips curving at the thought, he said, “I promised my mate I’d dance with her from midnight to dawn, and I don’t break my promises.” He’d be patient until then, his wolf content with keeping an eye on her while she was claimed by SnowDancer on the deepest level.
“I’m scared. What I did … I’m afraid no one will look at me the same again.”
Words she’d spoken after the violence of her ability had devoured the pack’s enemies, and in one way, she was right. No one would ever again look at Sienna the same—because now, each and every SnowDancer understood the lethal power that ran in her veins. Yet there was no fear in the air tonight, only the cold-eyed approbation of the predator that lived within their hearts.
Well aware how much the man at his side had done to ensure that, to make certain respect didn’t turn to fear, he caught Riley’s gaze. “Thank you.”
“No need between us. Never has been.” A pause, quiet humor in his next words. “I seem to recall you allowing me to beat up on you once upon a time when I was courting Mercy.”
“I don’t remember you winning.”
“You have selective memory.”
Wolf and man both laughed, happy to be here in this moment with his friend, his pack, and most of all, with the woman who sent him a secret smile from the far side of the clearing.
ADRIA smiled as she felt muscular arms slip around her waist from behind. “I was wondering where you were,” she said, her throat raw with emotion from the haunting simplicity and beauty of the mating ceremony.
Nuzzling at her, Sam kissed her jaw. “Come, dance with me.”
She slid into the play of bodies, his hand cla
sped around her own, and danced until her pulse was a drum, her blood running hot through her veins. Sam did try to steal a kiss, and bubbling with the wild joy of the night, she let him, but pressed her fingers over his lips when he tried again. “No.”
Undaunted, he spoke against her fingertips, dimple denting his cheek. “We’d have fun. I have no hang-ups about your dominance if you’re worried about that. I’ll even let you bite.” A rub, nose to nose. “In fact, I’d like it if you did.”
Playful and gorgeous and intelligent, he was a lover who’d make her feel good, both physically and in the soul. There was only one problem—her body hummed with a near-painful awareness of another man, a man who aroused far more violent, dark emotions. And who was currently twirling a tiny, curvy woman whose eyes were a golden echo of his, shouting their relationship, his cheeks creased in a true smile.
It infuriated her that she couldn’t strangle that unwanted awareness, but she wouldn’t use beautiful, sexy Sam in an effort to do so. “I’m not ready.” One day, she thought, spine steely with determination, she would be ready to gather up her courage and take another chance, having conquered this unhealthy compulsion toward the wrong man. Sam, innocent and never broken, wasn’t the right one, her heart too scarred for him, but that didn’t mean she didn’t cherish him. “I wish I was, because you’re rather wonderful.”
Stroking his hands down her back, he took the rebuff with good grace. “In that case, be my friend. I like you.”
The direct opposite of the knife-edged words Riaz had flung at her, his statement made her miss a step before she cuddled a little closer into him. “I like you, too.” She turned her face deliberately away from the part of the Circle where Riaz stood with his arm around his recent dance partner and an older man Adria couldn’t see well. Deep inside her, her wolf snarled, but that wolf, too, remembered how brutally it had been rejected.
It didn’t fight Adria’s decision.
RIAZ’S eyes had locked on Adria the instant he’d spotted her, the strange, unique complexity of her scent in his every breath, though it should’ve been impossible to pick it up, given the number of people in the Circle. Especially when she was pasted up against Sam, the younger male’s lips by her ear as he said something that made her laugh, the sound soft and intimate.
His claws pricked at his palms.
Excusing himself from his parents after handing his mom back to his dad, he hauled Jem into a dance.
“Thanks for asking,” she said in an acerbic tone, but slid her arms around his neck. “Stop scowling. Your mother is going to think I’m torturing you.”
“Sorry.” Forcing himself to keep his attention away from Adria and Sam, he looked down at the blonde lieutenant … and had the sudden realization that she didn’t fit right in his arms. She was too small, her head reaching midway up his chest.
Jaw clenching at a thought that had its origins in his primal attraction toward a long-legged female whose voice was rough silk across his skin, he said, “Did you dance with Kenji yet?” The two had something going—no one was quite sure what.
“Bite me.”
“Temper, temper.” He tucked her closer when she narrowed her eyes. “I’ll behave, promise.”
“Do I look like I have ‘sucker’ written all over me?” She went rigid a minute later.
Riaz understood why as soon as he saw Kenji appear out of the dancers.
“Can I steal her away?” The challenge in the other man’s tone wasn’t directed at Riaz.
All but able to touch the electricity in the air, Riaz stepped back, saw Kenji’s arm slide around Jem’s waist, and thought, Yeah, they fit.
“You look beautiful, Garnet,” Kenji said in a low tone, using Jem’s real name, the purple and gold of his hair sliding forward to shadow his expression as he pulled her stiff body close.
“Kenji—”
“Just a dance.”
It was all Riaz heard before he found himself making his way to where Adria leaned against a tree on the other side of the clearing. The shadows of the forest concealed her from the crowd, until it was almost a private alcove … but for the vivid tug of her scent.
Crushed berries in ice tangled with a hotter, deeper musk.
He didn’t know why he halted only a foot from her, whatever he’d wanted to say wiped from his mind by the jolt that rocked him at the single cool glance she deigned to throw his way. Conscious his eyes had fixated on the pulse in her neck, so delicate and bitable beneath creamy skin kissed with sunshine, he forced his attention back to the dancers.
Hawke’s hair changed colors as he danced with Brenna under the multihued bulbs the juveniles had strung through the trees, until the entire area was a wonderland. Several of those juveniles sat in pairs or in small groups in the thick branches, watching the festivities and flirting. A kiss was sneaked here and there, but nobody made any move to leave. Perhaps because they were under notice from the maternals, but more likely because right now, it was about being with Pack.
His hand snapped out to grip Adria’s arm almost before he was conscious of her getting ready to move. “Dance with me.” It came out harsh, crushed rocks in his throat.
Adria wrenched away her arm, shuddering at the contact. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.” Riaz was a drug her body craved—and like all addictive substances, he was not good for her.
“Scared?” Eyes gone night-glow.
“No,” she said, her own wolf rising to the fore. “I just happen to have some self-respect.”
Stepping out of the shadows, she saw Matthias walking toward her. Her mood shifted immediately. “It’s so good to see you.”
The big lieutenant lifted her up and kissed her on the lips as he’d done Sienna. “Come dance with me, pretty girl.”
Her wolf could feel the dark burn of another male’s eyes between her shoulder blades, but she didn’t hesitate to accept Matthias’s offer. “How is everyone back in your sector?” she asked once they’d begun to sway to the music.
Mathias’s chest rumbled as he spoke, his hand moving gently on her back. “Ticking along. We miss you—do you plan to visit?”
“I can’t.” Not yet. “Maybe in a few more months…”
Matthias’s jaw brushed her hair. “No pressure, darling.” They danced in warm silence until Adria caught a scent that made her spine lock—right before Matthias said, “I think someone’s about to steal you away.”
Not wanting to make a scene and mar the celebration, she didn’t protest when Matthias stepped back. “Take care of my girl,” he warned.
Riaz muttered something pithy in Spanish that made Matthias laugh, but all Adria could hear as he took her into his arms was the frantic beat of her pulse, thudding in time to his own. Too fast, both of them, their skin too hot. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered, her voice stripped bare.
Riaz’s answer sounded torn out of him. “I can’t stop myself.” He shifted her closer, the move so unexpected, she didn’t resist—and found herself plastered to the hard strength of him. His arousal pushed into her abdomen, the hot male scent of him seeping into her veins until she could taste the dark forests and biting citrus of him against her tongue.
Breath coming in small pants, she shook her head, but the words she wanted to say wouldn’t come, her brain hazed by need, such vicious need. When Riaz backed off, only to take her hand and tug her deep into the thick black of the trees, she knew she shouldn’t go, but her feet kept moving forward, following him into the concealing shadows. The music continued to play behind them, but here, it was hushed and quiet.
Private.
Shoving her against a tree, he kicked her legs apart and suddenly his mouth was on her own, ravaging and taking and demanding. The civilized, rational part of her brain just stopped working. She gripped at his shoulders, her nails digging into heavy muscle as his tongue licked at her mouth, tangled with her own, the kiss an open, wet, voracious fury of contact.
Their gasped breaths were loud in the silence, th
eir heartbeats thunder, and his hand when it closed over her breast, a shocking brand. Her cry swallowed by the rough demand of his mouth, she found herself rubbing up against him, trying to rise on tiptoe to create the perfect fit. Her frustration when she couldn’t was shattered when his fingers squeezed her nipple through the silky material of her top, rolling and tugging. His hand dropped all too soon … to slide under her top and spread on her abdomen, his fingers brushing the waistband of her sleekly tailored black pants.
His hand had touched her there once before.
A thread of reason broke through the blinding haze of passion, but his mouth was on her own again before it could penetrate, his free hand around her throat, and she was drowning. He was so big and strong, and he wanted her so desperately. It stroked the wolf’s battered ego, made her claws prick out and dig into his flesh through the fine black cotton of his shirt.
He hissed out a breath, but it wasn’t a sound that told her to stop. Instead, he kissed her harder, his fingers tugging open her fly to cup her possessively over the lace of her panties. Jerking, she felt herself grow even wetter, and from the growl that poured into her mouth, vibrating against her nipples, he felt it, too.
Then his fingers pushed aside the gusset of her panties and the thread of reason became a scream.
“I don’t like you.”
Shoving him back with every ounce of her strength, she wrenched herself away from the tree. “Oh God, God.” Her shaken gaze landed on his passion-fevered face, his cheekbones slicing against the dusky brown of his skin, his eyes a dangerous, brilliant gold.
Her wolf lunged toward him.
But she was human, too. Reining in the wolf with an iron grip, she somehow managed to do up her pants and tug down her pretty, silky black top hand-painted with a single stunning butterfly on the back. The material was thankfully immune to wrinkles, and her hair, it was still in place—Riaz had been so focused on her mouth … and lower.