by Nalini Singh
No matter if Lisette remained in love with her husband, she was Riaz’s mate. Adria would’ve fought for her black wolf with everything in her against any other opponent, but that single fact couldn’t be altered, couldn’t be wished away. It wasn’t coincidence that Lisette found herself wanting to settle in California, her actions colored by a connection she didn’t consciously understand or realize. Riaz had to feel it, too, feel that primal draw that was the greatest gift of a changeling’s life.
But he’d made a promise to Adria, and he wasn’t a man who reneged on his promises.
So she’d have to be the one who broke her own heart.
JUDD walked into the infirmary just after twelve, aware Walker had taken Lara off to lunch. It was easy to skirt Lucy’s attention—the nurse was involved with a young girl who’d come in with broken ribs after tumbling out of a tree, her tearstained face red, though she was making a valiant effort to fight back the sobs. Still, she was only seven.
Fighting the instinctive urge to help, he slipped unseen past Lucy and the pup and into the room occupied by Alice Eldridge. He made sure the door shut with the softest snick at his back before he turned to take in the patient. She lay with her eyes closed, her hands on top of the sheets, her head angled to the side. Though no longer hooked up to a feeding tube, she continued to wear the thin computronic skullcap.
Her chest rose and fell in easy breaths, her lashes dark against the dull brown of her skin. That skin needed the sun, needed to be burnished. Brenna had found some old photos of Alice Eldridge hidden online, including one taken by her rappelling partner as she came down beside him. Her legs had been gently muscled as she braced herself on the wall, her smile brilliant, the unexpected blonde-kissed brunette curls exposed under her helmet shiny with health.
Nothing like the wasted woman in the bed.
Yet her eyes, when they opened and zeroed in on him, were the same. Ebony, so dark the pupil was difficult to distinguish from the iris. He waited for a reaction, and it wasn’t long in coming. “Arrow,” she said. “Former.”
“You remember.” He hadn’t been certain she’d recall anything about their fleeting conversation.
“I thought,” she said, her voice rough with disuse, “you were a dream.”
Walking across the room, Judd grabbed a chair and sat down beside the bed. “Your memories from before?” Lara and the others had become frustratingly closemouthed now that Alice was awake, citing the trust a patient needed to have in her physician. But this woman had incredible knowledge locked inside her mind—knowledge Sienna would need going into the future. Alice was the only authority on X-Psy in the world.
A deep breath, ebony eyes shifting to the right.
Following her gaze, Judd saw the water bottle. He picked it up and held the straw to her lips. She took a sip, two, before halting. Waiting until he’d put the bottle back, she said, “A broken kaleidoscope. Those are my memories.”
“Yet you know what a kaleidoscope is.”
A faint smile on that too-wide mouth. In the photo, her mouth had seemed perfect for her face, her smile huge. But here, her face all jutting bones, the lushness of her lips didn’t fit. “Yes,” she said. “Strange place, the mind. I’ve lost me, but I’ve retained the world.”
Her intelligence was clear, even now, when she was so damaged. It made him wonder who Alice would be if she ever again regained her full self. “Do you know when you are?” A hundred years, more, had passed since the beginning of Alice’s forced sleep.
“Yes.” Such loss in that acknowledgment. “I had parents. I remember them. They’re gone.” Simple words to describe an ineffable truth.
“I’m sorry.” There was something about Alice that made him think “she’s one of us,” though the scientist was human, and from a time long gone. Perhaps it was because she had tried to study the most outcast of all designations.
The sorrow in Alice’s expression was replaced by a quiet knowledge as she watched him. “You wanted to break me,” she said. “Any Arrow would.”
“I needed the knowledge in your mind.”
Alice’s lashes came down, lifted, her chest rising and falling. “Strange how I remember the Arrows.”
“Perhaps we were the last thing you saw.” His historic brethren could well have been the ones who had taken her.
A frown, the smooth skin of her forehead wrinkling. “No,” she whispered. “Zaid wouldn’t have allowed them to put me in a box.”
Za-eed.
Alice’s pronunciation of the name, Judd thought, was perfect. It was her acquaintance with it that surprised him. Zaid Adelaja had created the squad, been the first Arrow, a telepath with a ferocious ability in mental combat. “You knew Zaid?” It wasn’t impossible—if Judd was right about the date of Zaid’s death, the other male’s lifetime would’ve intersected with Alice’s.
Her hand fisted on the white sheet. “I think so.”
Shattered memories, he reminded himself, certain she wasn’t healthy enough to lie. “You’ll remember.”
“You sound more certain than the lovely healer with the black curls.” A pause, her fingers rising to touch the computronic skullcap that covered her shaved head. “I had curls. So many colors in there—as if my father’s blond and my mother’s black hair collided in me.” Dropping her hand, she stared at the wall, her gaze distant.
He wondered what she saw, but he kept his peace for now. Force would not make Alice remember, regardless of how important it was that she did. Rising, he returned the chair to its spot against the wall and was about to leave when Alice spoke again.
“All I remember before you,” she whispered, “is sadness, such terrible sadness. It made my heart tear in pain, until the agony took over my world. Zaid … Zaid was there.”
ARRIVING back in the den four hours after she’d dropped off Lisette, Adria might’ve allowed herself a little more room to breathe, hope struggling to find a ray of light in the darkness, but then she saw Riaz walking toward her, and knew time had run out.
Riaz’s smile reached his eyes. “Hello, Empress.”
“Hey you.” Flowing into his arms, she let the strength and heat of him surround her one last time. “Do you have time to talk?”
“A few minutes,” he said, wrapping the long tail of her hair around his hand as he had a way of doing. “I have to head in for a discussion with Hawke about BlackSea.”
“Something come up?” Such an everyday question. Such a quiet intimacy she’d never again experience. The next time they met, it would be as senior soldier and lieutenant, not lovers who had become friends … more.
“No.” His chest rumbled against her. “Just a case of setting up a permanent communications line. We’re thinking Kenji for the liaison, since I have the Alliance.”
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 id
ea 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 w
ild 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.”