Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)(127)

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 wild 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.”