Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)(17)

Wolf huffing in laughter, his tension momentarily eased, Riaz went off to grab the misbehaving boys. They groaned at being conscripted, but didn’t protest. Instead, falling in beside Riaz as they ran down at an easy pace, they peppered him with questions about training, the battle, and how best to court girls without it crossing over into forbidden territory.

It was the last thing Riaz wanted to think about, much less discuss, but he didn’t snarl at the lanky young teens—from the way a number of them had been moping around yesterday, they’d obviously already gotten an earful from either the maternals or Hawke, more than likely both.

Pulling on the resources that made him a lieutenant, he answered their questions with blunt truths—there was no use coddling wolf males at this age. Their laughter and friendly ribbing of one another, especially at the occasional embarrassed blush, further calmed the feral wolf inside him, until he was nearly sane by the time he arrived at what had been a wasteland directly after the battle, but was now a hive of activity, hundreds of saplings already set out, ready to be snugged into the earth.

“Shovels.” He passed them out from the stockpile in one corner, then led his group over to Felix, who set them all to digging, the actual planting being done by those the horticultural specialist had trained in how to handle the roots of the saplings. When Joshua showed an interest in the task, Felix paired the juvenile with Lucy, so he could learn to do it correctly.

Surrounded by the scents and voices of his pack, Riaz’s shoulders relaxed that final inch.

The time passed in a burn of muscles, and the moist, rich smell of the earth and of budding, growing things, and he was quietly contented by the time darkness whispered on the horizon. Having sent the younger kids back much earlier, with most of the other helpers following an hour ago, he assisted Felix and the small group that remained tidy away the empty pots, forgotten shovels, and discarded gloves.

“It’s a massive project,” he said, leaning the last shovel inside the temporary storage shed before stepping back so Felix could secure the door.

“It’ll be done faster than you know it.” Door shut, Felix turned to wave off the final truck but for the one he intended to drive up, his features as refined as an aristocrat’s. That classically handsome face, combined with his muscled six-feet-three frame, had made him a successful model while in college. Even now, luxury goods companies chased him to front campaigns, but Felix’s true love was the earth and its flora, his thickly lashed brown eyes bright with satisfaction as he looked out at what they’d already achieved. “Hawke’s going to conscript me helpers on a constant rotation. Six weeks max and we’ll be done.”

Their alpha walked over at that moment, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Six weeks? Bloody hell, Felix, you’re a drill sergeant in disguise.”

Felix grinned, glancing up to meet Hawke’s eyes for a fleeting second before his gaze skated away, his submissive nature uncomfortable with the eye contact. However, his position in the hierarchy made no difference on this playing field—here, they all took orders from him, because here, Felix was the one who knew what he was doing.

Now, the other man shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I’m pumped to see it coming together after all the planning. It’ll take a while for the area to regenerate, but a few years from now, no one will be able to tell this patch from any other in the territory.”

Hawke looked up at the sky streaked with the final fading embers of sunset, lines of tension bracketing his mouth. “I hate that we’ve got this massive gap where the satellites can spy on us.”

“It’s on the edge of the territory,” Riaz pointed out. “Unless you plan to put on a ballet performance while covered in nothing but chicken feathers, they aren’t going to see anything interesting.”

“Damn,” Hawke said with a straight face. “And here I’d already plucked the chickens.”

Laughing, the three of them headed for the truck. The alpha jumped into the flatbed at the back, alongside Riaz. As they were the final three to leave, it was a peaceful if yet barren view that drew away from them when Felix started the engine and began the journey home.

Back propped against the cab of the truck, Riaz let the wind rifle through his hair, grunting when the ride turned bumpy. “Doesn’t this thing have hover facility?”

“I’d answer but I think I just lost a tooth.”

The hydraulics sounded on the heels of Hawke’s words, creaking and groaning before they successfully lifted the truck off the ground.

“It’s well past time we replaced this,” the alpha said, patting the side of the truck. “But Eli was the one who originally bought it for the pack, and he’s attached to the rust bucket. I think he calls it Sheila.”

“Sheila?” Riaz grinned. This was why he’d come home, heart-bruised and licking his wounds, wary of the solitude that had always been so integral to his nature. No one could fix the hurt, but his pack … they gave him the gift of laughter, wrapped him in warmth, and kept him busy. Until he could almost forget the jagged hole that was his heart, its edges bleeding and raw.

A wild tangle of a kiss. A lithe female body twisting against his own, her legs locking around his waist. His fingers slick with her need. His cock pulsing with the urge to thrust deep.

Hissing out a silent breath, he strangled the roar of sensory memory. He’d damn well forgotten his mate then, hadn’t he? Not only forgotten, but betrayed in the basest of fashions. The worst of it was that the memory of his hotly erotic encounter with Adria aroused him every single time, his gut clenching not in repudiation, but in claw-raking desire.