by Nalini Singh
His arms came around her tight.
• • •
BY the time Christmas rolled around, Solias King was a dim memory. The Psy had removed all his equipment from their land, leaving behind only the ornament and Christmas lights. Tamsyn had been more than happy to use them on her tree, though the chosen fir had no lack of decorations—every one of her packmates had added a piece or ten, so that by Christmas Day, that tree was truly the pack’s Christmas tree.
Tamsyn thought Shayla would have been pleased. So many in DarkRiver remained damaged by what had happened, but at least this silly extravagant tree had brought some joy back into their lives. They held the Christmas party under its snow-dusted branches and it was there that Lachlan formally acknowledged her and Nate’s mating.
“For me, our anniversary will always be the day you gave me orchids,” she said to Nathan as they danced under sparkling tinsel.
He slid his hands down to her lower back. “I vote for the cabin in Tahoe.”
She laughed. “What are we going to tell our children when they ask about our mating if we pick Tahoe? Hmm?”
“That DarkRiver looks after its own.” Sadie’s, Cian’s, and even Nita’s interference had been born of the ties of Pack, and Nate accepted it. “And that their daddy was a stupid idiot, but one who came to his senses in time.” Nate wondered what their cubs would look like. Not that he was going to ask Tammy to have children anytime soon. She was only nineteen…and part of him still wasn’t sure she wouldn’t regret having mated so young. But on this magical Christmas night, he decided to believe in happy endings. “Want a replay?”
“Of the orchids?”
It was such an innocent question he almost missed the mischief in her eyes. “I’ll make you pay for that.” He stroked his hand over her bottom.
“Behave,” she whispered with a blush. “The others will see.”
“So?” He turned her until her back was to the tree. “I’m just playing with my mate.”
This time, she cuddled into him, her hands sliding up under his sweater. “I want the replay with cream on top.”
He grinned. “Why do you think I bought those cans of whipped cream?”
Eyes wide, she licked her lips. “Me first.”
Epilogue
Eighteen Years Later: Year 2079
“WHERE’S THE WHIPPED cream?” Nate kissed his way down the naked line of his mate’s back.
She glanced over her shoulder, beautiful enough to steal his breath. “Have you forgotten we have guests?”
“They can entertain themselves,” he said, referring to the houseful of packmates who’d dropped by for a family dinner.
“They’ve already been doing that for an hour.” She moaned. “Oooh, again.”
He complied, kissing the dip at the base of her spine. “I suppose I have to go play host.”
“Poor baby,” she teased.
He bit the curve of her buttock. “Don’t get smart with me, Tamsyn Ryder. I know all your secrets.” And after eighteen years together, he knew she was his, body and soul. It had taken him almost two years to really believe that truth—but when she’d only gotten happier and happier as time passed, it had become impossible not to.
She nuzzled at his neck. “Stop seducing me. I need to go finish making dinner.”
Rising halfway, he found his gaze caught by a golden envelope on the bureau. “What’s that?”
“Card from Nita,” she said, referring to the former packmate who’d mated with an outside-Pack male not long after his and Tamsyn’s mating. “Her cubs are growing up so fast.”
“So are ours.” He stroked his hand over the curve where her waist flared into her hip. “God, I’ll have to teach them about women soon.”
She laughed. “And what do you know about women?”
His reply was a kiss that stole her breath.
• • •
THE house was strangely quiet when they went down. Tamsyn soon found out why. Lucas and Vaughn were outside playing ball. They’d roped in their own mates and a couple of other sentinels, as well as the kids and several older juveniles.
“See, I told you they’d take care of themselves.” Nate kissed the pulse in her neck as they stood on the back doorstep.
She smiled. “More like the women decided we needed privacy.” They had been in the kitchen with her when Nate had walked in with the orchids. He did that every year, and every year, she turned to putty in his arms. It was hard not to melt for a man who still saw her as an orchid kind of girl after all these years together.
Her mate’s teasing reply was lost in the gleeful cries of their cubs as they spotted their parents. Nate walked out and intercepted the pair, scooping them up and hanging them over his shoulders. In spite of Nate’s worries, Roman and Julian were still babies, not even three years old. “Mommy! Help!” they cried now, between giggles.
Nate threw her a grin and something went hot and tight in her stomach. God, she loved him. Walking over, she tilted her head to peer at her babies. That knot in her stomach grew tighter. “I think you look good in that position.”
“Mommy!”
Laughing, she freed a wriggling Roman. He peppered her face with kisses before asking to be put down so he could rejoin the game. Julian was playing with his daddy, but waited to give his mom a kiss before chasing off after his twin. “They’re so tiny,” she whispered, standing in the curve of Nate’s arm. “I can’t believe they’re ours.”
“My little pistons,” Nate said proudly, watching as Vaughn threw Roman a soft pass. Instead of running, Roman threw a sneaky pass to his twin, who shot off down the field. “See that—a few more years and they’ll be pummeling everyone else on the field. So, what about the Christmas tree?”
“I drove out there yesterday.” A living Christmas tree had become a tradition, a happy memory that had survived the turmoil of the bleak years after the ShadowWalkers’ attack. “Our tree is still going strong.”
“Just like the pack,” Nate said, echoing her thoughts.
She wrapped her arm around his waist. “Just like us.”
He glanced down, a tenderness in his gaze that would have surprised those who saw him only as the most experienced of DarkRiver’s dangerous sentinels. “As if I’d ever let you go.”
“Sweet talker.” She leaned up and kissed him, thinking that her mate was simply getting sexier with age. He now had the darkly sensual beauty of a leopard in the prime of his life, pure hard muscle and a finely honed sexuality that demanded everything she had. She found him irresistible. “I love you.”
He nibbled at her lower lip and there was smug male pride in his eyes as he said, “I know.”
She laughed. It had taken her years to get him to that point, where he believed she truly was happy with their life. Never once had she regretted mating at nineteen. She’d been one of the lucky ones—she’d found her mate early.
And then he whispered, “Always,” and she fell in love with him all over again.
Stroke of Enticement
Wishes
December 8, 2060
Dear Santa Claus,
I’m not sure I believe in you anymore, but I don’t know who else to ask, so I hope you’re not just imajinary like Daddy says. I’m in the hospital, but don’t worry, I don’t want you to use up your majick to make me better. The M-Psy came and looked at my leg and said I’d walk again. You know the Psy don’t have feelings. I think that means they can’t tell lies. And the nice changeling nurse—the one that can shapeshift into a deer—she told me with rebalit rehab, I’d be o.k.
The reason I’m writing to you is because I’m lonely. Don’t tell my mom, o.k.? She comes to see me but she’s always so sad. She looks at me like I’m broken, like I’m not her strong little girl anymore. And my daddy doesn’t visit me. He never paid any atent attention to me anyways, but it still makes my heart hurt.
I know you can’t make my daddy come see me, but I was wondering, since you’re majick, do you think you could send me
a friend? Someone fun who wanted to be with me and who didn’t care that my leg was all mangled up. The kids here are nice, but they all go home after a little while. It would be wonderful to have someone who was mine, someone who didn’t have to leave.
My friend can be human or Psy or changeling. I won’t mind. Maybe you could find someone who was lonely, too, and then we could be unlonely together? I promise I’ll share all my things, and I’ll let her (or even a boy) choose the games we play.
I think that’s all. Thanks for lisening.
Annie
p.s. I don’t mind if you don’t give me any other presents at all.
p.p.s. I’m sorry about the speling mistakes. I had to miss a lot of school but now I’m trying really hard to catch up with the hospital’s computer tutor.
Chapter 1
ANNIE LOOKED UP and met the angry eyes of the seven-year-old sitting at the child-sized desk in front of her own, arms crossed and lip jutting out. Bryan glared at her, the fury of his leopard apparent in every line of his body. Annie was used to teaching changeling children—a lot of DarkRiver kids came to this school, close as it was to their territory. She was used to their affectionate natures, their occasional accidental shifts into leopard form, and even their shorter tempers when compared with those of human children. What she was not used to was such blatant disobedience.
“Bryan,” she began, intending, once again, to try to get to the bottom of this.
He shook his head, stuck out his chin. “I’m not talking to anyone but Uncle Zach.”
Annie glanced at her watch. She’d called Bryan’s uncle twenty minutes ago, not long after last bell. “I left a message. But he might not check it straightaway.”
“Then we wait.”
She almost smiled at the stubbornness of him, but knew that that would only make matters worse. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me why you hit Morgan?”
“No.”
Annie tucked back a strand of hair that had escaped the bun she’d anchored with a pair of lacquered chopsticks in a vain attempt at style. “Perhaps we could talk to your mom together—would you feel more comfortable discussing things with her?”
She’d already called Mrs. Nicholson to tell her that Bryan would be late getting home. The woman had taken it in her stride—she had three boys. “And one of them’s always in detention,” she’d said with a laugh, love in every syllable. “Since you’re waiting on Zach, he can drive this misbehaving baby home.”
“Bryan?” she prompted, when her little mischief-maker remained silent.
“No. You promised I could wait for Uncle Zach.” He scowled. “Promises are for keeping, that’s what Uncle Zach always says.”
“That’s true.” Giving in, she smiled. “Let’s hope your uncle makes it here soon.”
“Hot date?” The voice was rich, dark, and completely out of place in her classroom.
Startled, she stood to face the man leaning in the doorway. “Uncle Zach?”
A smile that cut her off at the knees. “Just Zach’s fine.” Vivid aqua-colored eyes, straight black hair cut in a careless way, copper-gold skin and bones that spoke of an ancestor from one of the native tribes. “You called.”
And he’d come.
She felt her cheeks blaze as the thought passed through her head. “I’m Annie Kildaire, Bryan’s teacher.”
When Zach accepted the hand she’d extended in a gesture of automatic politeness, the heat of him seared through her skin to burn her on the inside. She felt her breath catch and knew she was going even redder. Dear God, she was useless around beautiful men. And “Uncle” Zach was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
He was also staring at her. Probably at her always messy knot of hair, her bright red cheeks, her mortified brown eyes. Tugging at her hand, she tried to extract it. He held on as he glanced at Bryan. His nephew continued to sit there with a mutinous expression on his face. Seeing their clasped hands, he favored his uncle with a look that shouted “traitor.”
Zach returned his attention to Annie. “Tell me what happened.”
“Could you—” She tugged at her hand again.
He looked down, seemed to consider it, then finally let go. Fingers tingling in sensory memory, she quickly moved to busy herself tidying the stack of book reports on her desk. “If you’d like to take a seat?” He towered over her. That wasn’t particularly difficult, but he was big in a very intimidating way. Solid shoulders, pure hard muscle, and lean strength. A soldier, she thought, aware of some of the ranks within the DarkRiver pack, Zach had to carry the rank of soldier.
“I’d rather stand.”
“All right.” She didn’t sit either. It didn’t give her much of an advantage—or any advantage if she was being honest—but if she sat down with him looming all big and intense over her, she’d probably lose the power of speech. “Bryan punched a classmate during last period. He refuses to tell me what caused the incident.”
“I see.” Zach frowned. “Why isn’t the other boy here?”
She wondered if he thought she was playing favorites. “Morgan is in the sick bay. He’s rather…delicate.”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “Delicate?”
She wanted to glare at him herself. He knew perfectly well what she was talking about. “Morgan gets sick very easily.” And had a mother who treated him as if he was made of spun glass. Given that the same thing had driven Annie insane as a child, she might’ve tried to talk to Mrs. Ainslow about it, except that it was obvious Morgan liked the fussing. “He was too upset to stay near Bryan, though I would’ve preferred to talk to them together.”
“Human?” Zach asked.
“No,” she said, trying not to feel too satisfied by his look of surprise. “Swan.”
“Swans aren’t predators”—which, Annie knew, was why Morgan’s family had been allowed to stay in DarkRiver territory—“but they’re not exactly weak.”
“While all humans are?” she was irritated enough to say.
He raised an eyebrow. “Did I say that, sweetheart?”
Her face heated from the inside out. “I am Bryan’s teacher.”
“Not mine.” A grin. “You could be though. Wanna play classroom, Teach?”
She dealt with DarkRiver cats throughout the year, but for the most part, they were mated pairs or couples in long-term relationships. She had no clue how to handle a teasing male who was clearly not only aware of the effect he had on her but confident enough to take advantage. Focus on the facts, she told herself, just focus. “Bryan is normally very good.” He was, in truth, one of her best students. “He’s kind, intelligent, and before today, he’s never once hurt a classmate.”
Zach’s expression turned serious. “Strength is for protecting, not hurting. Bryan knows that as well as anybody in the pack.”
Annie’s heart clutched at the absolute way he said that, as if it was simply a fact of life. That core of unflinching honor was one of the things she most admired about the DarkRiver males she’d met. The other was the way they didn’t make even the slightest attempt to hide the adoration they felt for their mates. It was…nice.
It was also yet another point of contention between her and her mother. Professor Kimberly Kildaire had very determined views on what men should be like. The word “civilized” appeared often in the description, along with generous helpings of “rational”—a man who teased with sensual ease was far too wild to ever make the professor’s cut.
However, Annie knew her own mind, and her reaction to Zach was anything but rational. “That’s why,” she said, forcing herself to think past the nerves that threatened to turn her mute, “I was so surprised by what he did. Frankly, I have no idea what could’ve caused it. Morgan and Bryan don’t even tend to play together.”
“Give me a couple of minutes with him.” With a nod, he walked to his nephew. “Come on, Jumping Bean, let’s talk.”
“Over there.” Bryan got up and led his uncle to the back of the classroom. Annie looked away out of p
oliteness, knowing she wouldn’t have been able to hear the conversation even if they hadn’t moved—changeling hearing was generally far more acute than a human’s. But, and though she tried to keep her eyes on the book reports, her curiosity got the better of her.
She looked up to see Zach crouched in front of Bryan, his arms braced loosely on his knees. The position had raised the sleeve of his T-shirt to expose part of a tattoo on his right biceps. She squinted. It was something exotic and curved, something that beckoned her to stroke. Thankfully, before she could surrender to the urge to get closer, Bryan began to gesture so earnestly, she wondered what on earth he was saying.
• • •
“I didn’t even hit him that hard, Uncle Zach.” Bryan blew out a breath that made his dark brown bangs dance. “He’s a sissy.”
“Bryan.”
“I mean he’s ‘delicate,’” Bryan said, proving he had very big ears. “He’s always crying, even when nobody does anything on purpose. He cried yesterday when Holly elbowed him by accident.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah—Holly’s a girl. And she’s human.”
Zach knew exactly what Bryan meant. No matter their animal, changelings were physically tougher than humans. Their bones were stronger, their bodies healed faster, and in the case of predatory changelings, they could do a hell of a lot more damage. “Which doesn’t explain why you hit him.” He knew and liked his nephew. The boy had been born with a solid code of honor, a code that had been strengthened by the rules DarkRiver men lived by. “You know we don’t bully weaker people.”
A shamefaced expression. “I know.”