by Nalini Singh
“Yes.” In the trickle of fractured Psy heading into San Francisco, in the words of Arrows unbroken, in the increasing desperation of the corrupt to hold onto their power.
Change was a force that had the world in its ruthless grip.
For some, the consequences would be devastating. For others, it would be a welcome freedom. Some would fight it, some would embrace it, but no one would escape it. Walker hadn’t expected the painful joy the crashing wave of change had brought into his life, but he intended to hold on to it with an iron grip.
• • •
AS the days turned into weeks, Lara’s contentment only grew deeper. Walker’s smile was no longer such a rare occurrence, the bond between them a thing of complex and ever-growing beauty, her mate’s voice one she was used to hearing in the warm quiet of the apartment as they talked after the children were in bed.
She’d convinced herself her earlier fears had been for naught when it happened.
Two days before Hawke and Sienna’s mating ceremony, she was in the midst of a detailed workup on Alice when she felt a…stutter in the mating bond.
An instant later, the bond was so calm, it was frigid.
Shocked into a pained gasp by the sudden absence of emotion, she ran to the small comm unit on her desk and put through a call to Walker’s sat phone. It rang, then went to a message prompt without being picked up, which did nothing to negate her worry. She thought of what he’d told her of his schedule for this afternoon—a simple walk with a small group of children under his authority, the aim to work out the parameters of a new project in a stress-free environment.
He’d never risk the children by taking them into a section that hadn’t been cleared by SnowDancer security, and she’d heard no alarms that indicated an attack of some kind. Yet Walker had all but disappeared under the brutal force of an iron control that made her feel like the mating bond was being strangled to death.
Forcing herself to breathe, to think, she decided to walk outside and follow the tug of the bond until she found him. It might end up being nothing but—“No, don’t go there.” With that shaky admonition, she managed to tell Lucy she was heading out, and left.
She’d barely reached the middle of the White Zone, the safe play area for the youngest SnowDancers, when Walker exploded out of the trees, a child’s limp body held in his arms. Healer instinct slammed into force, and she was running full-tilt toward him before she’d consciously decided to act.
“What happened?” It was Tyler in his arms, the boy’s dark brown skin sheened with a thin layer of perspiration that smelled “wrong” to her senses.
“Far as I can figure,” Walker said, chest heaving from the speed of his own run, “he’s had an allergic reaction. An insect bite, maybe a plant. He collapsed after complaining of shortness of breath and dizziness—it was a rapid reaction, less than thirty seconds from complaint to collapse.”
An allergic reaction triggered by a pack’s long-term natural environment was so rare in the changeling population as to be negligible, but there was nothing to say this pup might not be one of the outliers. “Place him flat on the grass.” Ignoring everything else, she put her hands around the boy’s throat, worked to open air passages that had all but closed up. If Walker hadn’t reacted as he had by bringing the pup to her, instead of calling for assistance, they could’ve lost Tyler.
“I’ve managed to open his airway for the time being.” Having bought a temporary reprieve, she checked the boy’s body for any clue as to what had provoked the near-lethal reaction. The presence of a toxin or venom would require a different treatment from a response incited by a plant.
“There.” It was on his ankle, just above his sock. “A sting of some kind.”
Working on him again to ensure his airway remained open and his heart continued to beat, she asked Walker to carry him into the infirmary. “Where’s Judd?” She knew that if at all possible, Walker would’ve alerted his telekinetic brother at the first sign that Tyler was in danger and requested an emergency teleport.
“Other side of the country till eight tonight. With the psychic energy he’s already used over the past couple of days, teleporting back to the den would’ve wiped him out, left him with nothing to help Tyler.”
“I don’t think even a Tk could’ve gotten Tyler to me as quickly as you did.” Lara grabbed a scanner as Walker placed Tyler on a bed inside the infirmary.
Turning to face her, he said, “I have to go. I left the other pups alone and they’re in shock.”
Lara nodded, her concentration on what was happening inside her patient’s body. “Go. I’ll tell you the instant he’s out of the woods.”
Lucy was there to assist after Walker left—with a brush of his hand over Tyler’s tight black curls and a touch of his knuckles to Lara’s cheek. When the boy’s parents arrived, Lucy made sure the distraught couple didn’t disrupt Lara.
Much as Lara understood their worry and fear, she needed to focus. The scanners confirmed what she’d suspected: The venom had provoked an overwhelming negative reaction in the pup’s body, the worst she’d ever seen. The average changeling, child or adult, would’ve perhaps felt a tingling, maybe had to deal with an itchy red bump for an hour or so, but that was it.
Tyler’s entire body was threatening to shut down.
“I’ve got you now. You’ll be okay,” she murmured, injecting him with a drug designed to counteract the worst of the effects, before using her abilities to stabilize the systems of his body. She not only soothed the ragged edges, she worked to make sure he’d never again respond in the same dangerous way to the same type of sting.
If an M-Psy or a human physician had asked her how she did what she did, she couldn’t have explained it except to say that she could sense an imbalance, one at the source of the reaction. All she had to do was nudge Tyler’s body back into the correct equilibrium.
The task took over three hours.
“I’ve eliminated the risk of another extreme reaction,” she said to his parents afterward, rubbing the cramp from the back of her neck. “It should protect him against other allergens as well, but I’m going to keep him in the infirmary, run a battery of tests to make certain.”
“As long as you want.” Hugging Lara, the couple left to sit with their sleeping son.
“Did you call Walker?” Lara asked Lucy once they were alone, having given the instruction the instant she knew Tyler would pull through.
“Yes,” the nurse replied. “He’s still with the other kids, wanted to make sure they were okay.”
Lara had expected nothing less from her mate. “Hawke?”
“He’s not in the den, but I contacted him with an update.” Lucy blocked her when Lara would’ve headed for her office. “You need to sit down, rest. There’s fresh coffee and sandwiches in the break room. I’ll handle anything Tyler and his parents need.”
Exhausted, Lara didn’t argue…but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t relax. Not when the bond remained so icily calm on Walker’s end. The remoteness of it made her want to scream, her wolf clawing at the insides of her skin. She’d looked into his eyes, glimpsed the intense, protective worry ripping him apart, and yet if she were to judge from the bond, she’d say he was unmoved by the near tragedy.
A sob burst out of her throat.
God, she was so angry with him.
• • •
WALKER had just escorted the last of his charges home and was about to head into the infirmary to look in on Tyler when he glimpsed Marlee and Toby in the White Zone. They were both involved in their own activities and didn’t see him, for which he was thankful. Leaning against the outer wall of the den, the stone covered with a fine fern that meant it was invisible to aerial surveillance, he drew in a long, deep breath and fought the urge to wrench both children into his arms.
So quickly, he could’ve lost Tyler today.
Releasing the breath he’d taken, he turned to look at the woman who walked toward him, frowning when he realiz
ed he hadn’t sensed her until she was almost to him.
“Tyler’s awake.” She joined him against the stone of the den. “He doesn’t remember what happened, which is a blessing, I think.”
Reaching down, he closed his fingers over hers, found them chilled. “How are you?” Her face was drawn, lines of strain around her mouth. “Sienna’s power didn’t replenish you?”
“I didn’t need it. This was more about unmitigated concentration.” She broke their handclasp to wave at Marlee when their daughter looked over.
“And you?” Lara asked softly once Marlee had returned to her conversation with her friends. “It must’ve been terrifying to see Tyler collapse, begin to suffocate.”
The fact was, Walker’s mind had slid into a hyper-calm phase the instant he realized what was happening, his emotions under lockdown. He’d made sure the boy’s airway wasn’t totally closed, given orders for the two oldest in his group to take care of the others, and then he’d gone to Lara. All the while, a fierce protective fury had raged beneath the calm. He would not lose any more children under his command.
Not as he’d lost so many of the child Arrows, their bodies and minds breaking under the pitiless regime of training, no matter what Walker did to alleviate their suffering. He remembered each and every face, each and every name. They haunted him. He refused to add another ghost to their number.
When he opened his mouth, however, what came out was, “I’m fine,” and it was a response fed by the decades he’d lived in the cage of Silence, his mind still on autopilot. “I’d like to see him.” He reached for her hand again, needing her on a visceral level.
Lara folded her arms.
Every muscle in his body froze, and he barely heard her say, “Tyler would enjoy a visit,” through the rush of blood in his ears.
“What’s wrong?” Only once before—during their turbulent courtship—had Lara pulled away from him. That day, he’d drowned in bleak despair; today, a hot flame of anger licked at him. Because he knew she’d only do something like that if she was hurting. And still she didn’t speak, didn’t tell him what had wounded her. “Lara.”
“You’re doing it again,” she whispered at last, the simmering anger in her tone seeded with a fine vein of pain that cut like a razor. “I know you’re angry, and yet here”—she thumped a fist against her chest—“I feel nothing. Just this mirage of peace that you throw at me to block me from seeing you.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Why would you do that, Walker?”
He’d gone motionless at her first words, welcomed the whack of the errant soccer ball that bounced against his leg. Jerking, he kicked it back and gripped Lara’s forearm when she would’ve turned and walked away. “You knew who I was when you accepted my courtship.” If she couldn’t take him as he was, the fractures inside him would be permanent and irreversible.
“And you knew who I was.” Wolf amber brilliant against the lush hue of her skin. “I’m not fragile. I won’t break if you let me see your pain, your fury, your worry.”
It felt as if she’d kicked him in the heart. “I’ve told you things I’ve told no one else on this earth.” He wanted to yell, but his voice came out deadly calm.
“Yes.” Tears shone wet in the amber, her voice dropping to a whisper, “It means everything that you invited me into your secrets. Everything.”
The panic struggled to recede under her passionate vow, hit a snag. “Then why?” Why was she walking away from him, ripping him to pieces?
“It’s not enough to allow me into your past if you shut me out of your present. Our present,” she said softly. “I need to walk beside you, to be your shield as you’re mine. I can’t handle being shut out, being cut off when I know you’re in pain.”
His heart thudded in his mouth, his skin going hot then cold. “If I can’t be that open?” He’d learned too young how to keep his mind contained, his emotions hidden, especially in high-stress situations.
“No, Walker.” Her voice was fierce, the curls that had escaped the clip at the back of her head catching the fading red-orange sunlight as she shook her head. “You don’t get an easy pass, don’t get to give in without even trying. I know the strength of your will better than anyone!”
Chapter 10
WALKER WASN’T CERTAIN what to expect from Lara when he came home that night after a scheduled meeting with packmates whose responsibilities in the den were either similar to or aligned with his own. Maternals, teachers, coaches, other “wranglers,” they got together regularly to ensure no pup missed out on the attention he or she needed to thrive. His head hadn’t been in the game, the need for solitude beating at him, but he’d leashed his chaotic emotions because such meetings were even more important now than they had been before the battle.
As a result of all they’d had to discuss, the meeting had run late, and the apartment was silent when he entered. Looking into Marlee’s room, he saw her sprawled out in sleep, her arms and legs thrown every which way. It made him want to smile. She’d been like that since she was a babe. Silence hadn’t managed to “fix” her before the family defected.
He tugged up her blanket, kissed a soft, sleep-warm cheek, then gave a light knock on Toby’s door, entering only when Toby called out. The boy was now of an age where he needed his privacy, something Walker had to make a conscious effort to remember—to him, Toby would always be his sister’s baby boy, given to him in trust.
“Hi.” His nephew put down the spy novel he’d been reading, the digital cover displayed on his reader a garish orange with black silhouettes.
Walker took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure you’re old enough to be reading that?”
Toby’s response was a grin.
They talked for a few minutes, with Toby telling him of being put in charge of a junior soccer team. “Pups think rules are suggestions.” He rolled his eyes, but Walker could tell he was pleased by the responsibility.
Ruffling the boy’s hair, Walker rose. “You’ll do well.” The words said so much less than what he felt, his pride in Toby a huge thing.
A steady look. “I know, I just copy the things I see you doing. I want to be like you.”
Heart twisting, he bent down to hug that gangly body, felt Toby’s arms lock around him. And he knew he had much to learn from this boy who was his blood. Toby’s openness of heart was a courage not many possessed. “Don’t stay up too late,” was all he said when he drew back, but Toby smiled the smile of a child who had no doubts about his place in his family’s heart.
“Goodnight, Uncle Walker.”
“Goodnight, Toby.”
Lara was also propped up in bed reading when he entered their bedroom.
He’d never been a man who hesitated, but he did so tonight, unsure how to read her silence. Lara always talked to him, even when she was angry. Walking to the shower without breaking that silence, he shrugged off his clothing and stepped under the heated spray. Once there, he focused not on the way she’d left him this afternoon, striding off without a backward look, but on how she felt inside him, her love unshaken.
Shuddering, he pressed his palms to the tile, head bent under the spray.
His grip on the simple, inexorable truth of her love a bloodless one, he wiped himself off, and hitching the towel around his hips, he walked back into the bedroom. Lara had put down her reader, turned off the light on her side, and lay on her back with one arm above her head…and he saw what he hadn’t earlier.
She was wearing the nightgown he liked best.
Everything came to vibrant life inside him as he realized she had spoken to him. He simply hadn’t listened well enough. Not a mistake he’d make again.
Throwing the towel over a chair, he slid in under the sheet, switched off his own light, and reached for her. She came, warm and soft, and his. He shifted to enclose her with his body, his forearms on either side of her head. “Did we,” he whispered, “just have our first fight as a mated couple?”
Lara felt every ounce of tension
leach out of her at that quiet question. When he’d gone into the shower without saying a word, she’d almost burst into tears. Now, she nuzzled at his throat, taking the clean, male scent of him inside, her wolf’s fur rubbing up against her skin. “Yes. This is the making-up part.”
He shifted his weight to settle more intimately between her legs. “In that case, I’m already looking forward to our next fight.”
He was playing with her, she realized, this man who hadn’t believed he had the capacity for such lightness of heart. Throat thick with emotion, she curved one leg over his hip, stroking her hands across the slightly damp skin of his shoulders—he never dried them properly and she usually had to finish the task.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you then took off,” she said, feeling terrible about how she’d avoided his touch. It had been an unconscious effort to protect herself from pain, but the instant she’d cooled down enough to think, she’d realized she’d hurt him, hurt her mate. It had killed her. “I didn’t mean to deny you skin privileges.”
He nuzzled back at her, kissing the side of her temple. “I know. It’s okay.” His jaw, rough with stubble, rasped over her hair. “Will you forgive me, too?”
Her eyes burned at the unvarnished request. “Always.”
Lips closing over her own, his kiss a reclaiming, the heat and weight of his body a tactile caress. She gave herself up to it, up to him, loved him as he loved her, their limbs tangled so completely at the end that she didn’t know where she began and Walker ended. And then the pleasure crashed over them, their bodies locked together as they fell.
• • •
LARA’S cheek was against her mate’s chest when she rose out of the languid haze of desire, his arm around her and her leg thrown over his body, both of them slick with sweat, hearts thudding. “You’ll have to shower again.”
It took him so long to answer, she was half-asleep when his voice cut through the lingering scent of the pleasure they’d found in one another.